“I mean, you can’t tell her the baby is Ryan’s.” He was driven forward to grasp her arms. “This baby is mine.”
His ferocity made her start a little and he unconsciously tightened his grip, staggered as the barriers he’d put up against accepting the baby fried into nothing. The truth was a surety in him. A terrifying excitement.
Lauren wore the same defenseless expression that probably contorted his own face. He hadn’t expected it to be like this. He wasn’t choosing to believe her. Certainty arrived with blunt force and it made him weak and invincible at the same time. He wasn’t acknowledging facts in gentle ripples. Giant tsunami waves of conviction buffeted him, shifting the axis of his life, forging a new potency in him as he took on the emotional load that children were for any caring parent.
His life would never be the same.
“We didn’t just make love that night. We made a baby.” He grappled to absorb that a part of him was growing inside this woman, connecting them forever.
“I know,” she returned, thick lashes blinking fast with shock over eyes that were growing shiny and tender. “I thought I told you that in New York.”
His laugh caught as he pulled her close. Something tore open inside him. No misgivings behind it. Just joy tempered with pent-up prayers for his child’s health and wellbeing. Tenderness for the woman in his arms, growing his child.
“I didn’t want to believe you. I didn’t want to be let down again,” he choked out, beyond moved. Dizzy.
“I wouldn’t do that to you.” She drew back to set a warm hand on his jaw, her touch sincere, her beauty beyond physical. It radiated from her inner being.
The desire he always felt for her took a sharp turn into a swifter current of deeper waters. Kissing her wasn’t a desire, it was a necessity. Gathering her into perfect alignment to his own body, he lowered his head to take her mouth with all the emotion flaring uncontrollably inside him.
Paolo’s kiss was so sweet. Lauren moaned into it, afraid she would cry with joy. This was the reaction she hadn’t dared dream of. He was kissing her like he loved her. She returned his ardor jubilantly, aware at the back of her mind that this could get out of hand fast, but that was okay. They were in complete accord now.
Their hands moved to reacquaint and she knew, oh she knew with a delicious clench of anticipation, that they were going to make love. He pressed his firm palm into her lower back and trailed his mouth down the side of her neck. She arched to offer herself, shivering when he grazed a sensitive spot. Her skin prickled with delight.
“Oh, Paolo.” She clutched her fingers in his hair, feeling as though she’d shake apart she needed him so badly. She had missed him.
“I have to touch you, Lauren. I love the way you feel.”
Her heart tripped as he spoke the l-word. The voice in the back of her mind waved another caution flag, but she ignored it. Her world had been absent of his life-giving caresses for too long.
He lifted his head and the hunger in his gaze nearly swallowed her whole. Her stomach dipped while a powerful zing of pure need struck that delicious spot where she was mashed against his fervent heat. Because it was him and he seemed to bring it out in her, she let instinct guide her and tilted her hips, seeking more pressure and a better, more acutely sensitive angle.
He growled something in Italian, but she drew him down to kiss her again while carefully backing toward the bed. He never stopped kissing her, the movement of his mouth wickedly hard in its power, tongue invading to pleasure and possess, as though he was trying to anchor her to him while she insistently drew him along as she flowed backward.#p#????#e#
She melted onto the bed, pulling him onto her like a weighted blanket, squirming deliciously as he settled half over her.
He used his thigh as a weight to control her restless legs, almost as if he was trying to keep this from going too far too fast, but she was determined to let the wildness take them both. She longed to feel him losing control the way he had that night in Charleston. Her deepest, darkest needs had been met when he’d been as desperate for her as she’d been for him. It couldn’t happen fast enough for her.
She cupped his head and did her best to incite him, urging him to settle completely on her. When he kept his weight on his elbow, she used the space to arch and reach the zip of her dress.
Paolo helped her, but didn’t pull her sleeve down her shoulder, just cupped her breast through the loosened fabric and gently massaged, slowly driving her crazy. Her nipple ached for proper attention and she whimpered, covering his hand, conveying that she needed more pressure. He lightly bit at the nipple through the dress and she encouraged him with a whispered plea.