Burning Hearts: A Second Chance Secret Baby Romance

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Burning Hearts: A Second Chance Secret Baby Romance Page 117

by Vivien Vale


  “Where did you say this job was again? I forgot the name.”

  He hands me a glass of wine, and I sip the red liquid. It runs thick down my throat.

  “They’re called Golden Image,” I say. “It’s a corporate interior design place.”

  Keagan freezes, his eyes on me, the glass lifted halfway to his lips. He lowers it again.

  “Are you serious?” he asks.

  I nod, suddenly anxious. “Why?”

  Keagan shakes his head. “This is bad,” he says.

  I don’t understand. I shake my head, urging him to explain.

  “I had a fling with an HR Rep a while ago, Bianca. Things did not end well between us. And she works for Golden Image, Dana.”

  I blink at him. “So?” I’m not fully grasping the problem.

  He frowns. “So, she might be holding a grudge against me. If we go public and Bianca finds out, she might use our relationship as an excuse not to hire you. She can throw her weight around. She’s HR, after all.”

  “You’re sure about this?” I ask. “About her working there?”

  Keagan nods. “I went with her to a year-end function. I’m sure.”

  Blood drains from my face. I feel like I’m going to be sick. My blood is on fire, even though I only had one sip of wine.

  “So, we can’t go public,” I say.

  Keagan shakes his head. “Not just yet.”

  I feel like I’m going to cry, and it makes me feel like an idiot. Keagan must see it on my face because he walks around the counter to me and puts his hand on my cheek.

  “Hey,” he says. “Just because we can’t go public tonight doesn’t change what we feel, right? We’ll just have to play this right. It’s not a big deal.”

  I nod and let him kiss me, a chaste kiss, no tongue. I want to believe him that it’s not a big deal, but I worked myself up to going public the whole week. I feel like the rug has been yanked out from under me.

  Is it just back to real life, now? I guess so.

  I’m lying in bed. There’s so much more going on in my life right now, but all I can think about is Keagan. He looked amazing tonight, and when he dresses like that, it always makes me picture his body beneath his clothes.

  It’s a big mess, between my job and his reputation and what we feel for each other. As confusing as things are, the one thing I know for sure is that I want him. I know that I need him. From the moment he came onto me in my old apartment, I’ve needed him.

  And it’s not getting any better. Wrong or right, these feelings I have for him aren’t going away. Not any time soon, anyway. And they’re impossible to suppress.

  I consider going to him tonight, but I decide against it. We aren’t fighting, but we went to bed upset. I don’t want it to look like I think sex cures everything.

  I’m horny. My skin is on fire, and all of my nerve endings are alive. I pull off my clothes and run my hands over my body. The light is on, and I look down my body. My nipples are tight when I run my hands over my breasts.

  I pinch them, tweaking them the way Keagan does, and I gasp. Heat rushes through my body and pools between my legs. I’m getting wetter and wetter. I want Keagan inside of me, to fill me up. I want him to hammer into me until I cry out.

  I dip my finger into my slit and slide it over my clit. My body jerks when I touch the most sensitive part of me.

  I push my finger inside of me and drag it over my clit again, spreading my wetness. I can only think of sex with Keagan, the way he makes me feel, and the way he fucks me.

  My breathing is fast and shallow. I swallow hard, and my lips are dry. I touch myself with rising intensity, but I’m still unsatisfied. My own fingers aren’t nearly enough to still the ache between my legs.

  I get up from my bed and walk to the boxes in the corner. I unpack one, taking out objects until I find the black package I stowed neatly near the bottom. I retrieve the finger sleeve, a rubber toy that fits over my finger with nubs and a vibrating tip. I lay back on my bed.

  I don’t need lubrication from my stash. I’m wet enough as it is.

  I don’t switch on the vibrator just yet. I like teasing myself, working my way up to a frenzy instead of taking the plunge right away.

  With the sleeve on my finger, I run it over my clit and shiver. The nubs are silicone, but I’m sensitive, and they feel more intense than they really are.

  I dip my finger into my pussy again, sliding in and out a few times. I gasp, relishing in the feel. When it’s slick with my own juices, I slide it over my clit a few times again, riding up and down my slit with it, just feeling the nubs and the sensation they create.

  After a while, I switch on the vibrator. The vibrator makes a soft humming sound. The sensations pulsate through my finger, and I press the tip against my clit. I jerk and moan softly. My breathing is fast and shallow, interrupted by panting moans. I play with the vibrator on my clit, sliding around in slow circles. When I feel I’m close to an orgasm, I pick up the pace, impatient for a release.

  The door clicks open, and I freeze. Keagan steps into my room. His eyes are on my body, and I can see the hunger grow in his face. Should I stop?

  I don’t want to. I want a release.

  Keagan licks his lips, his eyes greedily sliding over my bod, taking in the sights. He likes what he sees. I move my finger again, and I run the vibrator of over my clit. I gasp through parted lips. My eyes are on Keagan’s, but his eyes are glued to my pussy and what I’m doing to myself.

  Slowly, as if pulled by a magnet, he moves closer to me. I run my other hand over my breast, tugging at my nipple. Keagan gets onto the bed. He reaches for my pussy and stops my hand. Slowly, he lifts my hand away from my body and the vibrator buzzes angrily in the air.

  Keagan slips the vibrator off my finger and onto his own. His eyes find mine for a moment, and his pupils are so dilated they practically consume the blue of his irises.

  He moves his hand closer to my pussy, touching the vibrator to my clit. I jerk at the feeling and gasp. He leans into me so that his body is pressed against mine. His chest leans against one breast, and his cock strains against my hip bone through his boxers.

  Keagan takes over, sliding the vibrator over my clit, down my slit, and into my entrance just enough to drive me crazy, before he pulls it back again. He follows this intoxicating pattern a few times, keeping me on the edge, but denying me the orgasm I crave.

  “Please, Keagan,” I whisper, pressing my face against his neck when another shudder rocks my body.

  He moves back a little, and his lips find mine. His tongue slips into my mouth, and he explores me, licking and tasting. He focuses his finger on my clit and draws circles around it, making me shudder. He’s not moving away or changing the pace. He’s not denying me anymore.

  The orgasm builds hot and fast, and my legs are numb. My core clenches, and the orgasm rocks through me. I cry out, my voice muffled as I press my face against Keagan’s shoulder. My whole body spasms as the orgasm rips through me. I gasp and moan, shudder and convulse, as he relentlessly assaults my pussy with the finger sleeve.

  Keagan

  When I find Dana in her room, playing with herself, it takes everything I have not to take her immediately.

  But I don’t. Instead, I join in her play, and I help her orgasm. When she’s done convulsing, the skin on her breasts is flushed red, and the final strands of her orgasm leave her body in a shudder. She’s breathing hard. My cock strains against my boxers. I’m throbbing, aching, and I need to be inside of her.

  I sit up and move to the edge of the bed so I can work my boxers down my legs. My cock springs free, and the tip is already glistening from my excitement. When I look up at Dana, she’s eyeing my dick, and her face is stricken with lust. God, it’s one of the hottest looks in the world.

  She crawls over the bed to me, her breasts swinging and her hair brushing her shoulders. She gets off the bed and stands in front of me, facing away from me so I have a beautiful view of her ass, round and full.
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  She bends over a little, sticking her ass out to me, and I grab her cheeks, kneading them. My eyes are on her pussy. Her lips glisten with wetness, and I want to plunge into her depths.

  As if I said it out loud, she bends her legs and hovers her ass over my lap. My cock strains to reach her, and I grip myself at the base, holding myself in position for her. She lowers herself onto me, and we groan in unison when I slide into her. She’s so tight. Her walls grip me, and she’s so hot it’s like her insides are on fire.

  She’s positioned between my spread legs. Her hands are on my thighs, just above my knees, balancing herself. She wiggles a little, getting used the feel and the angle. She pushes herself up again slowly, sliding me out of her until only the tip remains. She pauses only a second before she starts the torturously slow descent down again.

  She takes her time working her body up and down my cock, and I’m hyperaware of her movements. Her arms strain on my knees, and her pussy opens for me. Her walls give way enough to let me in, before we reverse the process and almost start at ground zero again.

  It’s driving me crazy. I want to pound into her. I want to fuck her hard and release inside of her. This slow, erotic torture, wonderful as it may be, is driving me mad.

  When I can’t handle it anymore, I grab her hips and hold her down when she tries to move. I gyrate my hips and undulate inside of her. She gasps. Her hands are still on my knees, but she’s not able to lift herself up again. I do the moving for her.

  I buck my hips and bounce her on my lap, fucking her on top of me. Her hair bounces, and her breath is forced out of her chest every time she comes down on me. Her moans become rhythmic as I fuck her from beneath her, and her nails bite into my knees, a sign that she’s losing control.

  I like it when she loses control. Every time we do it, I learn something about her. I know how to read her better now. I know when she’s getting closer. I know when she’s getting swept away with passion.

  She bounces on top of me, and I can feel the tip of my cock bury deep inside her. She cries out louder, and her moans reverberate in the room. For a moment, I wonder about my neighbors, but the thought doesn’t linger for very long. Some women find it uncomfortable when you hit the deepest depth of them, but Dana doesn’t seem to feel the same. Her cries are not of pain, but of pleasure.

  I get lost in the sensation of having her grind over my cock. No matter how many times we have sex, it’s always amazing. Whether it’s fast and hard, or slow and lingering, being with Dana is an exotic fantasy that never stops thrilling me.

  When we first started, I thought that the excitement might fade, that as we went along, it would become more run-of-the-mill. I never feel like that. Every time I’m inside her, it’s better than I remember, sexier than I could imagine, and every time we’re done, I’m satisfied. But at the same time, I feel her absence acutely.

  Her cries become louder and louder, taking me out of my head and bringing me back to the moment.

  “Shh, baby,” I say, brushing a hand down her cheek. “Not too loud.”

  She gasps, letting out a low moan that hitches with every thrust. I run my hand over her jaw and down her neck. Her neck is slender, and my hands are large enough for me to wrap my fingers around it with ease.

  I don’t do anything drastic. I don’t squeeze. But having my hand on her neck, having her in my control like this, is another level of hot. She moans, and the sound fills me with unbridled lust.

  She clearly feels the same way.

  I press my lips against her back and kiss her shoulder blade. I lick and kiss her writhing body, feeling her and touching her while I’m fucking her. Her gasps are erratic now. I think she’s getting closer.

  I don’t want her to come. Not yet. I want her to wait for me. Denying her an orgasm, making her wait for it and work for it, ensures that it’s so much more intense in the end. And I want that.

  I want it to be as intense for her as it is for me.

  I slide my hand further down her body and find her breasts. I grab one and squeeze it. Her breasts bounce up and down when she does. I knead her soft flesh, massaging it hard. She gasps when I do.

  I find her nipple and pinch it, tugging lightly at it and rolling it between my thumb and forefinger. My other hand is still on her hip, and I keep moving her up and down, pounding into her by bucking my hips. She’s moving her hips as well, rocking back and forth to accommodate my movements, and I know she’ll keep riding me like that. I don’t need to encourage her.

  I remove my other hand from her hip and reach up for her other breast as well, so that I’m holding onto her, squeezing, pinching, rolling, and kneading. Her breath leaves her mouth in quieter gasps, as if she doesn’t have the energy to moan out loud, or as if the sensation of being balanced between my hands and my cock is too distracting altogether to let her concentrate on being loud.

  I stop moving and let go of her breasts, hugging my arms around her chest instead.

  “Turn around,” I say into her ear. “I want to see your beautiful face.”

  She smiles at me over her shoulder and presses herself up on wobbly legs. She turns around, climbs onto my lap with one leg on each side, and lowers herself onto me again. She straddles me, burying my cock deep inside her.

  With her facing me now, her breasts are pushed up against my chest, and I feel her nipples, hard little nubs against my pecks. The scent of our sex rises between us and tugs at the most primal parts of me. Dana cups my cheeks in her hands and lowers her lips to mine. The kiss is sensual. Her tongue traces my lips, teasing and pulling away when I want to meet her tongue with mine.

  Finally, she opens her mouth, presses our lips together, and lets my tongue enter her mouth. She kisses me with fiery passion, and her hips start moving back and forth. With her facing me now, her balance isn’t an issue anymore. Her arms are around my neck, and I reach around and squeeze her ass in rhythm with her rocking.

  Her walls squeeze down on me, and I feel her orgasm building inside her. Her body tenses and relaxes as she rides me, her wide hips rolling, her ass heaven in my hands.

  We break the kiss, and she picks up her pace. She rocks over me, finding a rhythm, and it’s sexy as fuck. Her breasts move against my chest, and her breath falls on my lips, quick and shallow. Her face glimmers in the darkness. A thin sheen of sweat covers her skin, and where our bodies meet, we are slippery.

  I don’t move much. I let her take control now. I want her to be in command and to do to me whatever she desires.

  The sex with her is always breathtaking, but tonight it feels like we’re on a different level. She’s giving herself over to me with an abandon I hope I’m not mistaking. It hasn’t felt like this before, and I drink in the sensation.

  This woman is not just a booty call, or someone to fuck because of a fantasy I have about my stepsister. I care for her, more than I know how to explain to her, and with us having sex, it feels like something between us merges, like we become one in a way I don’t fully understand.

  All I know is that this is what I want. Dana is what I want, and not just as a lover, but as a person that I can be close in every way possible.

  “What is it?” she asks in a breathy voice when my eyes are on her face for a long time.

  I shake my head and swallow.

  “I’m just looking at you,” I say.

  She smiles and closes her eyes.

  I can feel her body pulsating, the urge to release growing. I don’t want to give it to her, not yet. As always, I’m not done yet, and I don’t want to his to be over if I can draw it out longer. When she’s this close, I feel like anything is possible, and I don’t want that feeling to fade into nothing.

  She kisses me again, and the sensuality slips away, making way for lust once more. An urge deep inside me resurfaces, and it wants as much of her as I can get. I move my hands on her hips, holding her still, so I can pound into her again. She whimpers, making little moaning sounds, but I want more.

  I wrap my arms ar
ound her lower waist and brace my legs. I stand up, holding her against me, still sitting on my dick. Her face is surprised.

  I start bouncing her up and down on me and she cries out, the rhythm releasing little screams from her lungs. I don’t ask her to be quiet. I concentrate on keeping my rhythm, bouncing her so she lifts off my dick almost completely and lands on it again.

  When I lean forward, I realize the angle is better. I can get in deeper and fuck her harder without having to fight gravity so much. She tips her head back and gasps back. Her breasts roll back and forth as I fuck her, and she’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.

  I can’t keep her up forever. My arms get tired, but my cock is insatiable. I turn around, face the bed, and lift one knee onto it. I manage to lift her so she doesn’t lie on the edge, and I have room to stand on my knees.

  I plunge into her again, hammering her hard. She cries out. Her body moves up toward the pillows and headboard. I lay down, my chest mashing her breasts, her body pinned beneath mine. I fuck her harder and harder, driving deeper and deeper, and I find a rhythm that becomes so instinctive I don’t have to think.

  My body takes over.

  Dana

  Lust consumes me. Keagan is lying on top of me, and all I can think about is his cock inside of me, and the way he pins me with his body. We’re pressed against each other, skin on skin. Our bodies are slick where we touch, and the yearning for Keagan is so thick in the air, it pushes down my throat and makes it hard for me to breathe.

  As if he knows that he’s torturing me with his body, Keagan slides in and out of me slowly, taking his time. When he’s buried deep inside me, he pauses and I shudder. My pussy tightens around him before he slowly pulls out again, until only the tip is still inside my body.

  He repeats the achingly slow strokes again and again. All the while, his blue eyes are on mine. He looks at me as if he hasn’t seen me in ages, and he doesn’t want to forget what he’s seeing right now. Not ever.

  I study his face. His hair is slick with sweat, and beads of it drip down his forehead from the exertion. His skin is perfect, his nose straight like an arrow, and his eyebrows are the same sandy color as his hair. He’s a true, natural blond.

 

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