Queen of Hawthorne Prep

Air gets trapped in my throat when he carefully places his hand over my flat belly. The palm is so wide, the fingers tapered, the nails short and blunt. The heat of his touch burns a hole through the white shirt and waistband of my tartan skirt down to my skin. If I thought the connection between us had been severed, I was wrong. It’s there, humming dangerously beneath the surface.

“How pregnant are you?”

There is nothing amusing about this situation, but that doesn’t stop the snort from escaping. “Very.”

He huffs out a laugh as some of the tension loosens from his rigidly held muscles. “That didn’t come out the way I intended.”

Instead of waiting for him to reframe the question, I blurt, “Six weeks. We have time to…”

“Make a decision?” His lips sink into a grim line.

Barely am I able to push out a response. “Yeah.”

His hand tightens over my belly, the fingers curling into my pelvic bone. There shouldn’t be anything comforting about his touch. And I certainly shouldn’t feel less alone because he’s here, wanting to be part of this decision.

All he’s doing is confusing matters.

And that’s the last thing I need.

Chapter Thirty-Two

That night I wake to Kingsley slipping into my bed and stripping off my T-shirt and panties. Silently, I wait for him to flip me over and take me from behind. Instead, he gathers me into his arms until every hard line of his body is pressed against my softer ones.

His lips ghost over mine without ever quite touching them. The warmth of his breath is drugging. I want to inhale giant gulps of him. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think he was asking for consent, but that can’t be the case. Kingsley doesn’t ask permission. Whether by gentle means or brute force, he takes what he wants.

When I lift my mouth to his, seeking his touch, his lips settle over mine. A groan rumbles up from deep in his throat as the velvety softness of his tongue sweeps across the seam of my lips. As soon as I open under the firm pressure, he plunders the inside of my mouth, ravaging me with an aching sweetness that blots out everything but the physical pleasure he’s intent on doling out. The kiss becomes so deep that I don’t know where he ends, and I begin. It dredges up feelings of how it once was between us before life imploded, obliterating everything in its wake.

His arms tighten as he rolls onto his back, taking me with him until I’m settled on top, my thighs spread to straddle his narrow waist. The lips of my bare pussy are splayed wide against his taut abdominals. As he draws in a breath, I feel the shift of toned muscle beneath me. I sit up, finding purchase by bracing my palms against the solid width of his chest. When he flexes, his thick erection glides over my delicate flesh, setting off a shower of fireworks in my core.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The friction we create is staggering. My eyelids threaten to close as my head lolls back. Sensation ricochets through me, echoing in my fingertips and toes. His hands bite into my hips, anchoring me in place as he rocks against me.

“Open your eyes,” he rasps.

It takes a herculean effort on my part to lift my head and crack open my eyes. And then he’s snagging my gaze, holding it captive with his own. Sparks explode deep in my core. He’s not even inside me and already there is so much pleasure.

“Look at where we’re connected.” There’s a pause as my gaze drops to my spread thighs. The movement of his hips becomes more pronounced. His thick length slides against my lower lips before the crown of his cock peeks from between my folds, bumping my clit.

It’s erotic as hell.

Already my pussy is drenched, making it easy for him to slide against me.

We’ve never had sex in this position. Watching him move adds a whole new dynamic, heightening all of my awareness. I find myself unable to look away from the sight. As amazing as this feels, I need more. It’s like being taunted over and over, but never quite reaching the pinnacle. Frustration spirals through me and my movements become desperate.

He must realize what I need because he jerks his hips and gently slides inside my wet heat before filling me to the brim. A moan falls from my lips at the sensation of him stretching me wide. I feel every inch of him buried deep inside. And this time, there is no condom to come between us.

“Look at the way you ride my cock.”

At his urging, my gaze once again drifts to where are bodies are truly connected. Not only do I feel him pulsing inside me, but I see it. I can watch the way he rolls his hips, pulling out only to thrust in with more force. When he’s buried in me like this, there is no better feeling and the bond between us is undeniable.