The Heiress's Pregnancy Surprise (Heirs to an Empire 2)

His mouth moved over hers, sampling, tasting, making her feel cherished and loved and hungry for so much more. She put her hands under his overcoat and pushed it off his shoulders and to the floor; neither of them cared that it dropped in a black heap of fabric. He’d looked so devastating in his tuxedo, and as he kissed her long and deep, she reached for the bow tie and released it, dropping the strip of silk on top of his coat. Then the tux jacket, the fine threads of it beneath her fingers, was discarded, too. His hands rested on her ribs, but she pressed up against him, feeling his taut, strong body, reaching for his hand and placing it on her breast.

“Charlotte,” he gasped, sliding his mouth off hers. “This is—”

“Charlie,” she said firmly. “I liked it when you called me that.”

“Charlie...” Her name sounded on a sigh. He ran his lips over her jaw and she shivered again, with anticipation and desire. “We should talk about this...what we expect...”

She reached up and placed her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her. “I don’t want a bloody contract, Jacob. I only have one expectation, and that is for you to please rock my world.”

“That’s a very clear affirmative.”

“Yes, soldier, it is. I want you. And I don’t want you to hold back.” Even as she said it, she had a hard time believing it was her. Where had this self-assured, adventurous woman come from? She was a rule follower. Tonight she was breaking the rules, and it felt glorious. The idea of Jacob giving her everything made her tremble. Was she ready for that? To possess and be possessed? She wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be overwhelmed, but for once in her life she wanted to stop doing a risk analysis in her brain every time she made a decision. She was tired of giving up what she wanted for the greater good.

She didn’t expect him to lift her up into his strong arms, and she gave a little squeak as she clung to his neck. He started down the hall and stopped at his room, not hers, and she wondered why. But there was little time to ask because he kicked the door shut with his foot and then let her down beside the king-size bed.

Without saying a word, he released the cuffs of his shirt, then the buttons down the front, pulling out the tails and letting the fine fabric gape open, revealing a slice of muscled chest. Slowly, so slowly it was painfully magnificent, he shrugged out of the shirt and tossed it aside to the tufted chair nearby.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, her body clamoring for his touch. She stepped forward, only two steps, and that put him in reach. She could see him better in the soft light cast by the lamp, and she noticed his imperfections. Dimpled scars, one at his right shoulder, another by his ribs. A slightly pink one just below his navel, maybe three, four inches long. “Your history,” she remarked quietly, putting her finger on one of the scars.

“I’m not easy to get rid of,” he replied, the flash of a grin curving his lips.

“I’m glad.” Truthfully, the battle scars turned her on even more. “Will you tell me about them some time?”

His smile faded, and his gaze delved into hers. “Maybe,” he said, and she realized that how he’d been injured was probably a source of pain and possibly anguish, and her question had been insensitive. He was entitled to his secrets, wasn’t he? Just as she was entitled to hers. She traced her finger over the scar low on his belly, then ran her fingertips up his abdomen to his chest, leaning in to kiss the hard plane of muscle.

He reached behind her and found the zip of her dress, then lowered it, inch by inch, to her tailbone.

“Did I tell you how stunning you looked tonight?” he murmured, his voice husky. “This dress, and your smile... It took my breath away.”

His sweet declaration was taking her breath away. She stepped back and shimmied out of the dress, leaving a pink puddle of skirt on the floor with the more structured bodice lying stiffly on top. She still wore the four-inch hot pink heels, but nothing else. Panty lines would have shown through the delicate material.

“My God,” he breathed.

“I’m yours tonight.”

Everything moved faster then, as if the urgency couldn’t be held back any longer. He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, his hands skimming over her body, weakening her knees and clouding her brain with nothing but dizzying sensation. She reached for the button of his trousers and they scrambled to remove the rest of his clothes, until they were both naked and dying to be closer.

“Leave your shoes on,” he said roughly, as she perched on the edge of the bed. “They’re the sexiest shoes I’ve ever seen.” The hungry look in his eyes told her she was about to have her world rocked just as she’d asked.

He lay beside her on the duvet, his mouth plundering hers and then skittering down to her breasts. Her back arched instinctively, moving toward the contact, while his hand slid lower, turning her into a wanton puddle of need and desire. She surrendered completely, trusting him enough to lose herself in the heightened sensations he elicited from every nerve ending. But when she

was gasping and close to her peak, she reached for him and he paused.

“I don’t have a condom,” he said, stilling and looking into her eyes.

Frustration bubbled through her arousal. “I don’t, either. I didn’t expect...”

“Nor did I.”

“We could... I mean...” She lifted her hips, moaning as she pressed against his hand. “I don’t want to stop, Jacob.”

His breath accelerated. “Me, either. But I want you to be safe...”

“I am safe.” She wrapped her hand around him.

“I can pull out.”

That one suggestion—risky though it was—was enough for Charlotte to make up her mind. She trusted him to do what he said. And she had never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him right now. Hadn’t she just thought that she wanted to stop all the risk analysis?