Secret Heir

It worked just like I thought it would as a string of prayers erupted from her throat and she came in sweet waves around my cock. “You feel so good milking me, baby.”

I caught her lips and kissed her until my release erupted through me and I poured into her before I remembered we hadn’t used a condom.

I slowed my pumping as my brain raced with the possible implications of our fucking. I’d always used a condom before; never, ever gone without. Anyway, it’d been nearly a decade since I’d been with anyone. No wonder she’d felt so good wrapped around me, I’d taken her bare without a second thought.

“Jesus, I—I didn’t use a condom.” My heart roared in my ears. “Tell me you’re on something.”

Her breaths heaved beneath me, her nipples rasping against the fabric of my shirt, arms over her head and still fisted with pleasure. She was gorgeous, I wanted her all over again. Hell, I didn’t care if we brought a dozen kids into the world if I got to do this with her every day of forever.

“Baby, I—.” I held myself above her, lingering as I watched her beasts heave, nipples still dark and puckered and calling to me. Her soft eyes finally opened, a slow smile creeping across her lips.

“What?” She whispered, looking drunk. Drunk on my dick. A slow grin parted my lips.

I ran a hand through her hair, kissing her tenderly, savoring the taste of her lips on mine as I pulled out slowly. A sated groan echoed between us as I dragged out of her.

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart, but nothing beats the look on your face when you’re wrapped around me.”

A moan fell off of her lush lips.

“Mmm, you’re fucking perfect.” I pulled her back down to me, taking her lips in a sensual kiss. “And you’re mine.”

We kissed for a while before she hummed against me. “I’m sore. You fucked me into submission.” She giggled. A sound that sounded so fucking sweet on my ears, I couldn’t help but smile myself. “And here I thought I was just getting a ride home.”

“Watch it, I may never let you leave.” I smacked her on the ass, making sure I left a sting.

She jumped up and rubbed her cheek. “Ow!”

I laughed before pulling her back down to kiss her again. “I like the sound of that.”

THREE

Pixie

My first Sunday morning in Denmark and I felt like I’d been abused from the toes up.

Visions of Rome’s tongue darting up the length of my thigh came back to me and I groaned. Stepping through the doors of my Copenhagen studio apartment doing the walk of shame was not a pretty look.

I headed straight for the bathroom. I needed to get the awful taste of morning breath out of my mouth. Bad enough I’d snuck out in the early hours of the morning while Rome slept peacefully in his king-sized bed at my side, I hadn’t had a chance to brush my teeth or even get a new pair of shoes.

Thankfully, Rome’s doorman had been gracious enough to call me a driver to bring me home.

Home. Copenhagen didn’t feel like home, and the fact that by the third day here I was thoroughly fucked over and feeling it, literally, was enough to make me cringe. What would my parents think—they’d sent me off to further my education and I’d managed to make a muck of things from the first weekend.

I stepped into the bathroom and assessed myself in the mirror: my cheeks, hollow; my hair, a wild mess of dark waves tangled around my shoulders. My eyes, dark circles underneath with a smudge of mascara rimming the eyelashes. I looked like hell and I felt like hell, and the actual worst part—it wasn’t just me there to witness it. Here I was, stumbling in at six a.m., fresh from crawling out of someone else’s bed.

What a shitstorm I’d created.

His wild hair and sexy, cocky grin slammed into my brain. He’d driven me to distraction at the cocktail mixer last night. I was keeping to myself, but couldn’t help notice his beautiful face and lips made for sin. So I’d had another glass of champagne and pretended not to watch that devilishly handsome twinkle light his eyes.

“Pixie Wells?” he’d said. My breath caught in my throat when I turned to look at him. He locked me with a sexy sparkle in his deep green eyes. His full lips turned up in a seductive grin. He was so much fucking trouble, I could see it pouring off him.

“Is this your first time in Copenhagen?” His deep voice vibrated across the space between us and slammed straight between my thighs.

He had the sexiest voice I’d ever heard. How was it possible for one man to be so sexy? To be so blessed with the entire package? A sharp stubbled jaw line, the fullest lips, which had me wondering what they’d feel like trailing across my body, stunning eyes that sparkled mischievously when he spoke. It was obvious he left intelligent women everywhere struggling to find words. So I’d sipped more champagne and pretended not to notice his effect on me.