by Dani Collins
“Quit teasing. I’m dying,” she moaned.
He laughed but saw she was still supporting herself on her arms as though to keep her weight off her breasts. He flicked open the clasps at the backs of her thighs and rolled her face up, dragging the bra from where it had fallen between them and throwing it away.
“Sore?” he asked as he grazed a knuckle along the side of one breast.
“A little. It feels good to be out of that.” She gave a luxurious stretch.
Damn, she was beautiful. Most of her wore a fading summer tan, but her naked breasts were a subtle gold with light brown nipples, pert as toffee candies. He wanted to suck each one into his mouth, savor and play and make her melt, but he remembered his promise and only anointed one with his tongue then blew softly.
Her legs pinched together as though she was trying to protect herself from the intensity of sensations. He set his thigh across them, teasing himself with the feel of the hose and a stray garter buckle digging into the inside of his leg.
Her breath hitched as he used his weight to control her. He glanced into her eyes to see if she was uncomfortable with his light dominance and saw excitement glowing there. A charge of power and sexual thrill went through him.
Oh yes. She enjoyed a little constriction, didn’t she? It was absolutely his pleasure to deliver it.
He shifted atop her, pinning her wrists beside her head while holding his weight off her chest with his elbows. His legs closed on the outsides of hers and he held her trapped and still, though she tried to arch up into him.
“Careful, blossom.” He nibbled his lips against hers and kissed her chin before lifting a little so he could admire her quivering breasts again. “These are mine now. I won’t let them get hurt.”
“Is that mine?” Her thighs twitched, stimulating his throbbing length where he had nestled it in the valley above the tops of her hose where her legs were pressed together.
“All yours.” He pulsed his hips, teasing both of them with a small stab against the satin protecting her plump, tender flesh. The satin that covered her mound, radiant with the heat of her desire, caressed his swollen tip and nearly turned him inside out.
“I’m claiming the rest of what’s mine first,” he said with possessive intent. He licked into the small hollow at the base of her throat and kissed across her upper chest. He nuzzled and blew softly and tantalized her nipples until she was moaning beneath him, hips trying to rock and wrists turning in his grasp.
“I’m ready,” she gasped. “You don’t have to...”
“Oh, I do.” He rose onto his splayed knees, keeping her legs trapped between his own.
She was a vision of sensuality, hair spilling around her, arms weak against the covers, breasts hitching and stomach quivering. The scorching way she looked him over, gaze arrowing downward until she fixated on his erection, nearly burned his skin from his bones. She licked her lips, and he nearly lost it on the spot.
He had wanted to take his time nudging the scrap of lace down to expose her a centimeter at a time, teasing both of them. He didn’t have that kind of discipline left. He shifted off her and dragged her underwear away, taking a legging of hose with it.
She opened her legs and held up her arms invitingly, but he had to—had to—taste her. He slid down the bed and curled his arm around her thigh, taking soft bites of her smooth skin while she threaded her fingers into his hair and gave a ragged cry at the first press of his mouth against her hot, sweet core.
He could have lingered there forever, but she was more than ready to take him, and he was so drunk on the essence of her, he rose over her again.
No condom, he realized as the reflexive thought flitted into his mind. She was his and he was hers, nothing between them but the heat of their passion.
He pressed into her. Her soft flesh briefly resisted, then he was enveloped by paradise. Swallowed. Engulfed. Her legs closed around his waist, and her arms looped around his neck.
It took everything in him to keep a leash on himself. To be gentle. To thrust with measured power when he wanted to lose himself in wild, unfettered abandonment. He wanted to imprint himself on her for all time. That’s how it had been before. The urge was even stronger now. She was his and he wanted her to know it. His.
If anything, his enforced restraint made the act even more intense. He was shaking with effort, his entire body one live nerve that was being stroked by her soft hands and hugged by her strong thighs. Her gasping breaths were painting his shoulder and her heat, her incredible heat, was bathing him in more pleasure than he’d ever known.
“Deeper,” she gasped. “Don’t stop, Jun Li. Don’t stop. Keep going—” Her cries of culmination struck his ears and stripped him of his last vestige of control.
He straightened his arms and threw back his head, pressing into her one final time as he gave himself up to her.
* * *
Ivy woke a few hours later, eyes clogged with the makeup she hadn’t removed. She slipped from the weight of Jun Li’s arm, feeling very languid and lovely. She was still wearing the garter belt, and the dangling straps titillated her as she walked to the bathroom. She let it drop to the tiles as she entered.
The tub water had gone cold, but most of the candles were still burning. She left the lights off, flicked the knob to release the water, then brushed her teeth. She rubbed cleansing cream all over her face before starting the shower.
As she stood with her face turned up to the stream, rinsing away cream and makeup in one go, Jun Li asked in a rumbling voice, “Need help in there?”
“Always,” she invited and skimmed the water out of her eyes.
She turned to face him as he entered the huge glass cubicle. The candlelight picked up glints on his jaw and amid the shadows of hair on his chest.
“You’re covered in the sparkles I was wearing.” She tried to brush them away with her damp hand, but it didn’t work.
“I believe that’s the magic of sex within the sanctity of marriage.” His hair was rumpled, his eyelids heavy with satisfaction. “Let’s hope it never wears off.”
She chuckled throatily as he dragged her close and kissed her.
They began to soap one another and he grew steely between them, but just when she thought things were going to turn very magical, he stilled. His hand had been on her abdomen but lifted away while he stared intently at her belly button.
“I’m starting to show, I know.” Her hand had no hope of hiding it, but she covered her navel anyway.
“I was too distracted by the sexy underwear to notice earlier.”
“The dress designer was going crazy trying to downplay it.”
“Why?” He gave her a perplexed look.
“Well, it’s not very sexy, is it?”
“I assure you this curviness suits you. You’re sexier than ever.” He brought his slippery hands up to gently cup her breasts. In the golden glow of the steam-filtered candlelight, his expression was very somber. “It makes me realize the baby is real, though.”
She choked on a disbelieving laugh. “The paternity report didn’t clue you in?”
“I gave it to my parents without reading it,” he said with a distracted shrug. “I had all the proof I needed. Rationally.” He waved at his own head, then his tongue touched his bottom lip, and his expression grew introspective.
The shadows of reservations lingering behind his eyes worried her.
“Are you...” She hesitated, fearful of the answer. “Are you happy about the baby?”
“I’m still in shock,” he said with candor. “Concerned about both of you. I’m constantly thinking about everything that needs to be done before the baby arrives.” He absently circled his palm in the soapy bubbles at her hip. “I have no idea what sort of father I’ll make, which is the kind of uncertainty and lack of confidence I hate most. I prefer to tackle things that are only a mat
ter of reading a few books to master. There’s no way to know or prepare for what we face.”
It wasn’t the effusive joy she had hoped for, but it was honest and gave her some insight into his thoughts at least.
“Are you?” he asked. “Happy?”
She nodded helplessly, smile wobbling with emotion. “From the first minute, even though I was terrified and knew you would be furious.”
“Confused,” he corrected.
“I assumed I would have to do it on my own, which was scary, but I always wanted to be a mother. I was glad I was pregnant by you. I didn’t regret anything about our night together so I couldn’t regret that it resulted in a baby.” She bit her lip, hesitating before she admitted, “I was glad it gave me an excuse to see you again. I wanted to.”
A subtle flinch tightened his expression.
“I wanted to see you, too,” he said, but she could tell it was hard for him to reveal that. “But I wasn’t planning any sort of future with anyone. I didn’t want to lead you on. This...” He waved at the steam around them. “Marrying for practical reasons... I’m confident I can meet your needs and give you a good life, but I’m not sure I can be everything you want. That concerns me.”
“You mean...love?”
“Yes.”
Her arms seemed to tremble all the way to her fingertips. In these last hours, she had begun to believe something wonderful was around the corner. Now it slipped out of sight.
She wanted to say Why did you marry me, then? But she could turn that question on herself, and the answer was because she was falling for him.
“You don’t have to be anything but who you are.” She spoke bravely, trying to convince both of them. “A marriage isn’t a project with deliverables and milestones and once it’s commissioned, it runs like clockwork. It’s something we’ll build over time.”
His mouth relaxed. “Am I going to have to learn more about what you do for a living so I can liken our marriage to analyzing compliance?”
“You do not want our marriage to be anything like my work,” she assured him. “I make a career of being a wet blanket. I say, ‘You can’t do that or you’ll risk a lawsuit.’ Then people tell me to leave the room because I’ve ruined their party. And something tells me you know that.” She pinched at his belly, determined to return to a lighter mood and a sense of accord. “All the top guns I’ve ever known have ducked into the men’s room when they’ve seen me coming.”
“Because plausible deniability is a very useful thing to possess.” His smile flashed.
“Well, you’re missing out on valuable information. For instance, I happen to know you’re not supposed to talk about work on your wedding night. There are other things you’re legally required to do.”
“Legally?” he repeated. “Educate me. I don’t want to overlook a single directive.”
She wanted to make a joke about being unable to deny the plausible evidence that was hard against her slippery belly, but their gazes tangled, and such giddy happiness arrived, she couldn’t speak.
He cupped her damp cheek and kissed her, tender and profound at once, erasing all other thoughts in her mind except the desire to touch and taste and steep herself in the pleasure they gave one another.
She wound up taking hold of his steely length, smoothing her hands over him in the rain of the warm water, saying, “Let me show you.”
She drew him with her as she backed up and sat on the bench. Then she took him in her mouth, making him hiss and brace a hand on the glass. As steam gathered around them, she stroked the iron strength of his thighs and caressed his buttocks and reveled in completely dismantling him.
Afterward, he took her back to bed and did the same to her. Twice.
They both passed out then, sleeping late, but woke to make love again. It went on like that for the whole of the following day, both of them immersing themselves in one another. It was tender and playful and sexy, and it was a long time before Ivy feared again that she might not get everything she needed from this marriage.
* * *
Jun Li had had a handful of long-term relationships. Aside from taking a date to company-sponsored charity galas, he had mostly kept his romantic life separate from work. Because of that, he expected Ivy’s presence at his business dinners to distract him and divide his attention.
On the contrary—she proved to be a surprising asset at the mixers and networking events they began to attend together. She slid effortlessly between the small talk of social niceties and the meaty business discussions that were often held in multiple languages.
In fact, when they were flying back to Singapore after breaking ground on a port project, she said, “If I heard correctly that some of the project is financed with cryptocurrency, I’d double-check your financing contracts on how that’s to be reported. The EU has been updating their regulations. You don’t want to fall into noncompliance. The fines are huge.”
He did, caught a potential oversight that would have put them grossly over budget if they’d been fined for it and replaced a less competent officer with one who had Ivy’s proactive attitude and attention to detail.
When they visited Hong Kong, she introduced him to the president of the bank where she had earned a reputation for being conscientious and scrupulously honest, once recommending the termination of a trader who had arrogantly tried to avoid her audits. She had rescued the bank from the jaws of a damaging scandal, and the president still bemoaned the fact she’d transferred back to Canada rather than take the promotion he’d offered her.
“Thank you for making a point of introducing us,” Jun Li said when they were back at his villa in the Peak. “He’s an invaluable connection. There’s a certain snobbery when it comes to old money versus new.” And occasional suspicions over how new money had been made. “Now he knows I’m legitimate.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why I did it.”
Her smile bordered on smug, but the sly way she slanted it at him caused a hard pulse inside him. Her face was rounder these days, her skin wearing the glow the pregnancy books talked about. Her breasts and backside were something men sneaked glances at, himself included. From behind, she didn’t even look pregnant, just sumptuously curvy.
“Are we keeping track?” she asked as she used her hands to frame the small pot filling out her front. “This evening it was unanimous that the way I’m carrying indicates a boy.”
“We could ask the doctor.” He averted his gaze and shrugged out of his jacket, throwing it over the back of a nearby chair.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
Where was the fun in any of it, he almost asked, but bit back what would sound very cruel. The more obvious her pregnancy became, however, the less he could deny his impending fatherhood. He didn’t want to, not really. It was just that when he let himself contemplate how much more his life would change than it already had, his sense of control eroded to the point he was only grasping grains of sand. Everything else was slipping through his fingers.
It didn’t matter that Ivy was fitting into his life so seamlessly. A baby would be different. No matter how much he read, he didn’t feel prepared. In fact, he was beginning to think reading about it fed the dark clouds that danced around his periphery, threatening to close in on him.
“Can you please?” She turned her back on him and held up her hair.
He unclasped her necklace and opened the zip on her dress.
“I’m going to miss this,” she said as he impulsively placed a kiss on the spot where her neck met her shoulder.
“What?”
“You. Traveling with you and...being husband and wife.” He’d left her alone for a night or two here and there, but she’d accompanied him on his longer trips throughout Asia. She was starting her third trimester, though. Her midwife had advised this be her last flight of nonessential travel. “It’s felt like a honeymoon.”
/> “Now I feel really guilty that we’ve put off taking one until after the baby comes.”
“That’s not why I said it. I wanted you to know that I like being with you.” Her smile was offset. Self-conscious. The way she searched his eyes made his chest tighten.
He was going to miss her, too. That’s what he should have said. He wasn’t letting himself think about how he would feel, though. He’d been leaning on old, not very healthy habits of pressing negative feelings deep into his subconscious rather than dealing with them.
“You’re tired, though.” He saw it in the way she stole catnaps every chance she got. “It’s time you began to take it easy.”
She made a noise of reluctant agreement, then tilted another look up at him. It held the sort of invitation that made his blood heat.
“I’m not too tired.”
Good, because his appetite for her never seemed to abate. Nor hers for him, which was intensely gratifying. She tended to be on top these days since it was more comfortable for her. No matter how they made love, he was transported to a euphoria that left him spent and satiated. Even the feel of her damp skin against his in the aftermath, when her hair tickled his jaw and he was afraid to move because he didn’t want to wake her, was deeply satisfying.
She nudged him in the side, then drew in a startled breath even as he realized her arm was across his waist. She hadn’t nudged him. The baby had.
“Did you feel that?” she asked with a sleepy laugh and tried to bring his hand to her bump. “Our little gymnast woke me up.”
“Mmm. No wonder you’re so tired, building us a gold medalist.” His heart was clogging his throat. He extricated himself and left the bed. “Try to go back to sleep. I’m going to get a little work done.”
She made a noise of disappointment but drew a pillow into the space he’d occupied and sighed, dropping back to sleep in an instant.
While he berated himself. This was ridiculous. He should not be this unsettled by something so natural. He wanted to crawl straight back into bed beside her, but there was something grimly familiar about the looming emptiness of leaving her behind once they returned home. It made him wary of allowing himself to become too attached to her presence next to him as he slept.