PREGNANT AT THE ALTAR

by Claire St. Rose

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Emily

  I didn’t know how Daniel knew all these places and all these people. The owners knew him even though the manager—someone new, he said—didn’t. We were welcomed as old friends, not guests, and when we were finally given our key card, the room was the furthest one in the old house. It was a big room and with a large bathroom that gave me the idea this had been the original master suite of the house.

  It was kitted out with pine floors, a brown wooden bed, and beige curtains that matched the orange and brown bedding and décor.

  There was a beige mohair rug on the floor, and when we switched on the lights, it wasn’t a ceiling light but the two bedside lamps that switched on. The lighting was dim so that it had a romantic feel to it, and the room was cozy despite its size.

  “This is really nice,” I said, putting my bag on the bed and turning in a circle, taking it in.

  “It is,” Daniel said, and I had the feeling he hadn’t been in this room before. Until now he’d known exactly where to go, so I assumed he’d been around.

  I switched on the bathroom light and stepped inside. It had his and hers basins with mirrors against the wall that were polished to gleam as if they were brand new. A wall blocked off the back of the bathroom, and when I looked around it I gasped.

  One of those waterfall showers was installed in the ceiling, and the whole back part of the bathroom consisted of tiles and a drain in the middle so that you could walk through the shower from either side.

  Everything was tiled in small marble tiles and finished off with brown granite. It was so fancy it didn’t fit the room or the outside of the house at all.

  “Now that’s what I call a shower,” Daniel said, walking in behind me. He nodded, looking satisfied, and then turned to me. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I shrugged. I didn’t know what I was. My feelings were a mess. I felt like I was in shock about Sarah and what was happening. My life had been very predictable for so many years, and now the whole scene felt like it was part of a different life altogether.

  I was here in a hotel room, with a biker I’d only met a short while ago, and we were headed out to find a friend who had been kidnapped. It sounded like the plotline to an action movie.

  “We’ll get her back,” Daniel said, and he didn’t have to tell me that it was a promise. The resolve in his voice did it for him. I nodded and walked back to the bedroom. I was still wearing the dress and shoes that I picked out for the bar’s opening, and I was starting to feel uncomfortable. I needed to get out of it and into something that made sense. Something that was more like me.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” Daniel said, poking his head out of the bathroom. I nodded at him. He hesitated a moment and then cleared his throat. “Do you want to shower with me?”

  It was a question I could say no to. It was up to me. The inflection in his voice and the no-pressure look in his eyes said more than any words could. And half of me wanted to curl up under the covers and hide away from the world and what my life had become. But I couldn’t run away from what was happening, and Daniel was being sweet about it all.

  And he looked so hot in his clothes tonight, really making an effort and getting out of his leathers…even if everything had blown up in our faces.

  “Okay,” I said, and he smiled. He disappeared back into the bathroom, and a moment later I heard the shower water running. I unzipped the dress at the back and wiggled out of it, letting it drop to the floor. I got rid of my underwear and walked naked toward the bathroom. I closed the door behind me once I was inside. Daniel looked up from the tap where he was trying to regulate the water and froze.

  His eyes slid up and down my body, slowly, taking in what was in front of him. He swore on the exhale, but it wasn’t obscene. It was a compliment, somehow.

  He came toward me, and as he did, he started taking his clothes off. He peeled the shirt off his shoulders and dropped it to the floor. The pants went, his underwear, his socks, and he was naked by the time he reached me.

  He was already getting hard, the tip glistening. When he leaned in to kiss me, the length of him pressed again my stomach—and I shuddered. The kiss was deep and sensual, despite how naked we were, how alone. He had his hands on both my cheek, and he held me as if I was delicate.

  When he finally broke the kiss, he looked at my eyes—not my breasts—and took my hand. He led me to the shower and stepped backward under the waterfall that came out of the ceiling. I followed him.

  The hot water fell on my hair, seeping through. It ran down my skin and goose bumps spread over my body as it got accustomed to the temperature. Daniel rubbed his hands over my shoulders, down my arms and back up. The water ran over his skin, too, so that he glistened in the lighting. I saw the contours of his muscles as they moved under his skin.

  He stepped into me again and I was aware of my breasts pushing against his chest. His arms wrapped around my body, pulling me into him until we were skin on skin, both our bodies touching all the way down to our thighs.

  He turned me under the spray of the shower so that my back was against the wall. I lifted my arms to put them around his neck, but he slid his hands over my arms, moving them up until my arms were raised above my head. He held onto my wrists with one hand, keeping me in that position, and slid his other hand down my body.

  He massaged my breasts, rubbed the nipple, and pinched it until it was erect. He held my breast in his hand and took the nipple in his mouth and worked his tongue in a circle around me until I was gasping and moaning and writhing against the wall. I was wet, slick between my legs, wanting his sex, and he was set on driving me crazy.

  And I wanted it. I wanted him. God, I wanted him.

  He kept at it with his mouth on my nipple, but let go with his hand. He slid it down over my stomach, my hip, and then between my legs. He pushed two fingers into my slit and spread my wetness so that everything was slick and slippery. I moaned when he slid over my clit. He kept at it for a while, his other hand still holding my wrists in place.

  I was at his mercy, and I loved it.

  He pushed two fingers into me and slowly started pumping, mimicking the in and out of sex. The friction drove me wild with lust, and I squirmed against the wall. I was desperate to have him inside of me.

  He knew it, but he was going to draw it out.

  He stopped touching me, and I complained, moaning in protest. He let go of my wrists and put both hands on my shoulders. With a gentle push, he told me where he wanted me to go, and I did it. I didn’t want to say no.

  I knelt down in front of him. His cock was thick and hard in front of my face, veins straining against the skin and the head swollen and purple. I took him in my mouth, wrapping my fingers around his shaft. The sensation of having him in my mouth while the water poured over my face was exotic. I could still breathe but the water gave the illusion that it would be harder and I was surrounded by the spray. He tasted salty on my lips, and that combined with the hot water was erotic, the taste of heat and sex riling me up so much more.

  I moved my head back and forth, meeting my lips with my thumb and forefinger as I curled my hands in a fist around his base. With my other hand, I cupped his balls and massaged them carefully, moving in the same rhythm as my mouth was sliding up and down his shaft.

  Daniel groaned. I glanced up at him, making big eyes. I felt his cock twitch and knew he liked what he saw. He rolled his eyes back and closed them, tipped his head back and groaned with parted lips. I focused on what was in my mouth and what I was doing to him.

  At some point, it was too much for him. He didn’t come—was far from it—but the sexual heat and the hot water and my mouth burning on his skin was too much. He bunched my hair in a fist that didn’t hurt and urged me to stand up. When I was on my feet and looking into his eyes, his pupils were dilated, and his face had an animalistic lust to it. Water ran over his face, dripped off the tip of his nose, and made a stream over his lips.

  Th
ere wasn’t a lot more time to study his features or to think about what came next. Daniel let his hormones take over. He pushed me back just hard enough that it was wild, not painful, and my back hit the wall behind me. His body was against mine the moment my back touched the cold tiles and I gasped. The contrast between the cold behind me and the heat in front of me was huge.

  Daniel lifted my one leg with his hand and ground himself against my pubic bone. His chest was against mine, head in my neck. He took the skin between his teeth and sawed his jaw side to side, scraping his teeth against my skin. The teasing didn’t last very long; I didn’t know who he was torturing more, him or me. He bent down just enough to wrap an arm around my other thigh, and then he picked me up so that I was balanced between his two arms and the wall at my back.

  My legs were on either side of his body, his cock was between his legs and the tip was close to my entrance. His eyes were on mine when he lowered me slowly, angling himself so that he was more or less where he should be. When he lowered me enough, my body did the rest to guide him home, and then he was inside of me.

  I cried out. The bathroom around us started steaming up. Daniel held me up with sheer strength, his body and his hold pinning me against the wall. He started moving his hips, pushing in and pulling out, holding me up so that he could slide in and out without much of a struggle. My hips ground against the tiles behind me, but I didn’t care.

  The sex was fucking fantastic. If I was going to feel it in the morning, so be it.

  Daniel pushed me close to the edge of an orgasm and only kept me there for the shortest time before he pushed me over. I gasped, my body releasing into that powerful wave, and then I cried out. I wrapped my legs around him body and locked my ankles behind his ass as my muscles clamped down on him, contracting and releasing in waves. My breath was erratic, my mouth open by his ear and my hands curled into his wet hair.

  He’d slowed down for me so that I could keep up, and when the wave was over, he slowly let me down until my legs touched the ground. He pulled back until he slipped out. My body protested a little, but it wasn’t over. I balanced on wobbly legs as he turned me around so that my front was against the cold tiles now, his hot body against my back. He slid his hands over my body, down my side, cupping my ass, worshipping what he saw.

  I closed my eyes. His hands were on my hips, the fingertips curling into my skin. He pulled me back so that my feet moved slightly, and I kept myself outright with my palms flat on the tiles in front of me.

  He guided himself into me with his hands, finding my entrance with his fingers first before replacing it with his cock. The angle was a little wrong, but then he pulled another time on my hips and I bent forward even more so that I was standing and he was inside me from behind.

  He pushed all the way into me, and then pulled out and repeated the motion, hammering into me. He wasn’t taking it slow now. He went harder and deeper and faster, and I moaned and gasped at the speed and intensity.

  It wasn’t long before Daniel released inside of me, pulsating, pumping thick cum into my body, claiming me over and over again.

  And then it was finished, and he paused a second before he pulled out. He turned me around and pulled me close to him so that we were both completely immersed in the shower water that came out of the ceiling. He held my body against his. I felt his heart thundering in his chest, the rate of it matching my own. His breathing was quick, but his arms were sure, and I put my head on his chest. I closed my eyes, and we just stood there, gasping for air through the rivulets of water, feeling each other in different ways than just sex.

  “Can I ask you a question?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He hesitated a moment. I didn’t want to push him. I was curious, and it sounded important.

  “Can you see yourself with me long term?”

  I opened my eyes. A moment later, I picked my head up off his chest and looked at him. Long term? I would lie if I hadn’t thought about it. But I was surprised that he’d asked. I nodded. “I can,” I said.

  “But?”

  I wondered how he knew there was a “but.” “Without the danger,” I said. I could be with him. Daniel was thoughtful and caring and everything that I would describe as an alpha male. I liked being with him. I liked it when he took control. But I couldn’t deal with all the near deaths. “I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want to have to worry about it all the time.”

  He nodded but didn’t speak. He was quiet for so long I thought the conversation might be over. How had he received what I’d said? Had he’d taken it as some sort of rejection? I wouldn’t even know. He wasn’t talking.

  “Talk to me,” I said. I didn’t sound as desperate as I felt. Thank goodness. I needed him to tell me what was on his mind because the start of this conversation was driving me crazy, but I didn’t want him to think that my happiness depended in any way on what he had to say about it all.

  Daniel took a deep breath and stepped away from me, taking the new soap from the container against the wall and unwrapping it. He threw the wrapper just far enough so that it wasn’t under the spray of the water. He looked down at the soap, turning it around and around in his hands.

  “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you,” he said softly. His eyes were still on the soap. I wanted to touch his face, but I was scared that if I reached out I would break the spell and he would close down on me again. Instead of touching him or saying something, I kept quiet and waited for him to keep talking. He did, eventually. “I didn’t think I would make it this far, to be honest. It’s not really the kind of lifestyle that’s aimed at growing old, you know?”

  He glanced up at me, and his blue eyes were dark and guarded. This was a big deal, him telling me so much. I nodded. I understood what he was saying. I didn’t know how to reply. Before I could think of something, he kept talking.

  “I’ve been saving the money I’ve been making for a long time. I have enough to get out and start a life that isn’t dangerous, isn’t related to anything…unsavory. I can start over if I wanted to.”

  “Do you want to?”

  He looked away, and there was despair on his face. I was scared that I shouldn’t have asked.

  “I don’t know where things are going to go from here,” he said. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Ruby is the kind of person that fits very nicely into this world, which means she’s capable of causing a lot of damage. I’ve always gotten rid of the girls in my life as quickly as I could. This isn’t the kind of life for a woman of worth.”

  The fact that he thought I was a woman of worth said a lot.

  He took a deep breath and let it out in a shudder.

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt. My life isn’t exactly PG-rated, and I can’t…I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  I lifted my hands, risking touching him now. I traced his face with my fingertips, studying it, committing it to memory. The person he was now, in front of me, naked and vulnerable, was the man I was falling for. The bad-ass routine and the rough sex and the control was attractive as fuck, but this person underneath it all was the one that made me sit up and take notice. I pushed my hands into his blond hair and kissed him, deep and sensual, taking my time. There was nothing I could say. I didn’t want to tell him I loved him…not yet. I showed him.

  I turned off the water and took his hand, leading him out of the shower. I toweled off, and he did the same. Then I stepped into him so that our bodies came together and kissed him again. When we were both dry, I took him out of the bathroom, leading him by the hand, and let him get under the covers of the bed. I held it up the way a mother did for a child. This was what a relationship was. He’d taken care of me so many times in ways he couldn’t imagine. In taking control, he’d helped the healing process of what had broken so long ago. I got in bed with him, curling my body around his so that we melded together. I lay next to him and loved him, showing him how much he meant to me.

  I k
issed him again, and this time everything was different. I ran my hands over his body. There was no rush to cop a feel or to explore what was there. I let my fingers slide over his shoulders, the ridges on his stomach, the muscles that created the V that ran into his pants. My legs scissored with his. I pushed my head into his neck and nuzzled him, kissing and sucking the skin. Slowly, the soft love between us built into lust again, and he hardened. When I put my palm between his legs, I found his sex hard and wanting again.

  It was what I’d been waiting for.

  I threw my leg over his and moved on top of him. I positioned myself over him, but I didn’t go down, not yet. I let him look at me, my breasts close to his face, my hair falling over my shoulders and brushing his chest. He touched my cheek, my collarbone, my nipples.

  I brought my hips slowly down, feeling him push at my entrance. The thick head was swollen and hungry, and my body was slick with wetness to accommodate him. I responded to him the same way he responded to me. Every time he got hard, I got wet, and my body was ready to take him again.