“Easy,” I whisper raspily in her ear. “Breathe.”
She lets out the breath she’s been holding. I kiss her. Slowly, her tongue engages mine. One of her hands goes to my nape, fingers slipping beneath my collar. The other clasps the back of my head and plays with my hair.
That’s it.
The moment I feel her relax, I thrust all the way in. She breaks the kiss and lets out a sound between a gasp and a shout. Blunt nails dig into my scalp.
I start moving. Fast. Slow is no longer an option. With each thrust, I clench my jaw and grunt as I try to hold on to what remains of my self-restraint. My fingers hold her thighs in a bruising grip. My balls slap against her skin.
Both of her hands move to my hair. Suddenly, she pulls on the strands as she lets out a scream. Her body trembles against me, tightening around me.
“I’m coming.”
I spill myself inside her with a growl as I push her shaking legs as far back as they can go. Then I lower them and stand still as I catch my breath. Her breathing is even heavier than mine as she slumps against me. Her forehead rests on my shoulder. Her arms hang from her sides.
I gently push her away and pull my spent cock out of her. As I fix my boxers and my pants, she jumps off the edge of the counter and picks up her underwear, which has fallen on the rug. She tries to slip it on, losing her balance the first time but succeeding the second. Then she wraps her dress around herself and sits on the toilet.
“Are you alright?” I ask her as I secure my belt.
She nods. “I’m fine. I just need a minute.”
She doesn’t look fine, though. She’s still out of breath, her cheeks still flushed. The ruby gloss on her lips is gone. Strands of her hair are out of place, along with one of the feathers on her mask. A sheen of sweat coats her forehead.
What concerns me most, though, is that she’s deep in thought. Serious, sad almost. Does she regret what just happened? Did it remind her of something unpleasant?
I have a sudden urge to wrap my arms around her now that she looks vulnerable, but I don’t. It’s not my habit to cuddle after sex. Or linger, for that matter.
“I have to go.”
I leave my tip- a crisp hundred dollar bill from my wallet- under the bottle of hand soap sitting inside a pink, swan-shaped wicker basket beside the sink and walk towards the door. Before I grab the knob, I glance over my shoulder.
“Good night.”
She still looks shaken, but her eyes turn iridescent as her lips form a smile.
“Good night.”
It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile all evening and I find myself frozen in my tracks, breath stolen.
Damn it, I want to kiss her and do everything all over again.
I just throw her a grin, though, before heading out the door.
That was fun but it’s done. Over. Maybe I’ll see her again at the next party. Or maybe not. It doesn’t matter. She’s just a distraction, a pastime, a whim. I have more important things to do- a company to run, billions to make, enemies to crush.
Still, I have a feeling I won’t easily forget that pair of dazzling blue eyes.
Chapter Three
Leah
Six weeks later…
Two blue lines.
I clasp a hand over my mouth and hold back a gasp as I stare at the lines on the pregnancy test. Maybe if I stare at them long enough, that other line will disappear.
It doesn’t. The line just turns from faint blue to dark blue, confirming my worst fear- I’m pregnant.
The stick falls on the bathroom rug as my hand shakes. Still, the result glares back at me. I grip my hair as my face falls.
“Holy shit.”
How on earth did this happen?
When my period didn’t arrive the day it had the previous month, I wasn’t alarmed. It never followed the schedule religiously anyway. A day passed, then another. A week. Still, I wasn’t worried. Once, when I was in high school, after starting a new training regimen under a new coach, I skipped my period for a month and I still ended up fine. I thought maybe because I’ve been under so much stress that the same thing was happening to my body all over again.
Ah, but I should have known this wouldn’t be the same as last time. Last time, I was sixteen and a virgin. This time, I’m twenty-two and I had sex with a man who still haunts my dreams.
Those dark eyes. That wicked tongue that made me weak in the knees. Those large, gorgeous hands that played me like putty. Those skillful fingers that made my eyes roll to the back of my head. That thick cock that made me feel I’d be torn in half and then sent maddening pleasure through my veins with every thrust.