SEAL's Pregnant One-Night Stand (Bronte Security Services)

The intent, almost predatory way Ian’s gaze tracked her movements had her pulse racing, and she didn’t think it settled the entire journey home, and certainly not when he opened the door of her house for her…which was when he kissed her.

From some men, that could have been a goodnight kiss, but the way Ian held her face, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones as his mouth took hers, and how her lips parted for his tongue to plunder? It was a prelude. Despite her high heels, Sofia stretched on tiptoe to kiss him back, feeling his thick, hard length pressing into her stomach.

In her bedroom, Ian unzipped her dress slowly, leaving a trail of kisses on her skin as he revealed it inch by inch. “I’ve been aching to do that,” he confessed, his eyes hooded. “I had my eye on you the second you walked through the door.”

Sofia was aching too, more with every minute as Ian stripped her bare, then pulled his own clothes off with less patience. She traced the ridges of his abs with her fingertips and her nipples tightened even before Ian teased them with his fingertips, paying her back, and when he lowered his head to take one furled bud in his mouth, she moaned.

“Please tell me you have condoms,” Ian said.

“Nightstand,” Sofia gasped, scrabbling for them, following Ian’s movements a few seconds later as he rolled one on.

She barely recognized herself in the desperate woman straddling Ian, sinking down onto him as he rocked up, so he penetrated her in one long, deep thrust that dragged a scream from her lungs. She’d never felt so raw and so primal.

And she’d never experienced anything like the climax that shattered her when Ian reached down to stroke her clit at the same time as he bucked up hard into her, taking only a few more strokes to find his own powerful release.

“And that’s just round one,” he panted, as she slid, boneless, from his body.

He kept his word.

* * *

Sofia woke alone, and her delicious languor turned into disappointment. At Ian for leaving, without saying goodbye, and at herself, for wanting it otherwise.

“We agreed,” she muttered, thumping her pillow and wincing when her sore muscles protested. “One night was all we wanted. Okay, so it was the best sex of my life, and he was the sexiest, best-looking, and most fascinating guy I’ve ever met but…”

She’d get over it. Wouldn’t she?