Pulse, стр. 60

Olivia placed her hand on Emily’s shoulder. “You look beautiful, friend. And if the Pillsbury Doughboy looked as good as you will, he’d bake a tray of cookies in celebration.”

A small smile touched Emily’s mouth. “You know that wasn’t funny, right?”

Olivia shrugged. “Eh. I usually hit them better than that. Give me some credit. The Doughboy’s hard to work with.”

Emily’s smile faded as she stared at herself. Her mind took her back to a conversation she and her mother had a few months before finding out she was sick. Emily was home on break from school, and they were eating breakfast together. It was as if her mother sensed something bad was looming. She started talking about her relationship with Emily’s grandmother, who’d passed away a few months before. Emily felt a pang in her heart as she listened to her mom speak of memories with her mother. Some light laughter and many tears later, she looked at Emily, her eyes distant. She told Emily if there ever came a time she wasn’t there, to just always know she was. A mother’s intuition she may not be around much longer.

She hadn’t understood the significance that conversation on a warm June morning, in the kitchen of a home wrapped in ill and sweet memories, would hold almost a year later. Emily couldn’t help but fear the impact of it all. She was about to have her first child, and though her mother might be watching, she wouldn’t be there in the flesh. The gatekeeper to all of her childhood memories, whether good or evil, wouldn’t see Emily’s baby’s eyes. She’d never shower Emily’s child in the love only a grandmother could. She wouldn’t be there to hold Emily’s hand and walk her through the steps of what it took to be a mother. As a tear fell from her eye, Emily pushed her hands through her hair. She took another look in the mirror at the mother she was about to become.

Her road, though streaked with layers of happiness, was also paved with longing only her mother could replace.

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Heavy sleet pelting the bedroom window like thousands of drumming fingers roused Emily from a deep sleep. She squinted her eyes open only to find Gavin scratching his bare stomach, his tongue moistening his beautifully etched mouth as he slept peacefully. She tried desperately to catch her missing breath. A gnawing ache grew between her legs, her body reacting to him in the only way it ever knew how. It needed him.

She needed him. Needed to touch, taste, and feel him. In her. Over her. Below her. No matter what, she wanted him and couldn’t wait any longer. The air, lightly perfumed with his cologne, dug into all her senses. Her core tightened in response to his soft breathing, the low, humming cadence increasing her want. She tried in vain to stop, but when he turned, the comforter slipped from his body, exposing his glorious hip bone. She was done for. Hunger exploded in her belly.

She bit her lip, sat up, and stripped the black silk camisole from her body. Her black lace panties followed. Like a moth impossibly drawn to a flame, and with careful fingers, she slid the comforter away from his naked flesh. He stirred lightly, a deep groan rumbling in his chest, but he didn’t wake. Emily swallowed, her craving for every inch of his iron clad golden skin filling her with desperation close to that of a madwoman. Her pulse, along with her breath, quickened as she slithered down the bed.

On her knees in front of his feet, she deftly spread his legs and swooped in for the kill. Curling her fingers around his semi-hard cock, she took him greedily into her mouth. She heard him moan, and his muscled body straining upward only fueled her desire. Sucking harder, she tried to satisfy her thirst for him as she licked each heavily veined inch from root to tip. God, he tasted amazing. The saltiness of his liquid silk combined with the flavor of his skin had her head bobbing reverently, her hand moving up and down each time she pulled him in.

Then he awoke.

He hauled his body against the headboard, but that didn’t stop Emily. She followed without letting him go. “Emily,” he breathed, his voice ragged. “What the hell are you doing?”

Eyes dilated in lust, she looked up as she slowly licked and sucked over the crest of his now rock-hard cock. “What does it look like I’m doing, Mr. Blake?” She surged down again, feeling him hit the back of her throat. Another deep, delicious groan ripped from his chest as he gripped her hair, his fingers twined tight against her skull. It made her high. Dizzy. She slid her mouth down his pulsing erection, her nails digging into his hips. She could feel the strain in his muscles, felt his body go taut and rigid, and she loved every second of it. Oh, yes, she had him now. He pushed deeper through her lips, his fingers clenching her hair harder as he guided her up and down, down and up, allowing her to take him to the hilt.

Every last one of Gavin’s senses was devoured by her hungry mouth. “Fuck,” he bit out. “You love the way I taste. Don’t you?”

Yes. She. Did.

The sharp taste he put out mingled with a touch of sweetness had her drugged. “Mmm,” she moaned, her tongue sliding over a thick bead of semen. She ran a hand over his bare stomach, her fingernails leaving deep red marks, as she continued to circle his cock with her tongue. An intoxicating whimper crawled up her throat when he pinched one of her hardened nipples, rolling it slowly between his thumb and forefinger as he pushed into her mouth again. With one hand still buried in her hair, he started to pump faster.

Hell, Gavin was about to explode. A hard swallow rippled over his Adam’s apple as Emily sucked him off harder. He grabbed her shoulders, yanking her onto his chest. In a split second, he had her on her back pinned beneath him.

Breathless, Emily bucked her hips up, her raging need to have him inside her driving her as close to insane as one could get. She gripped his shoulders, her pussy clenching, burning with arousal. He hovered above her, propped on his elbows. Deep, ragged breaths filled his chest as he looked down at her as if he was debating what to do.

Hell. No.

“You’re going to fuck me right now, and I’m going to love every second of it, Gavin. You’re going to fuck me, and you’re not going to hurt the baby. But I can tell you, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to hurt you.”

Damn her. She just made him harder. The woman beneath him just managed to mind-fuck him on multiple levels. Want for her surged though his veins unlike ever before, yet she managed to make him reevaluate the simple act of being alive. Though stunned by her bluntness, he couldn’t help the grin sneaking across his mouth. “You want it that bad, huh?”

“Yes,” she moaned, her breathing labored.

“How bad?” He grazed his jaw against the buttery smooth swell of her breast. God, he missed feeling them. Missed feeling her. He circled his tongue around the tight nub of her nipple. “I want you, in great detail, to describe how bad you really want it.”

Emily pulled in a shaky breath. “It’s not enough you don’t find me attractive anymore? Now you want me to describe how badly I want you?” She looked away, her voice trailing. “Are you trying to torture me, Gavin?”

Gavin’s eyes went wide, his heart crushing in his chest. Sure, he knew she’d become frustrated over the last several weeks, but he never thought it would affect her this deeply. He knew he needed to fix it, fix her. “Look at me, baby,” he whispered. Emily flicked her teary gaze back to his, and Gavin’s heart fell further. Reaching for her thigh, he slowly hooked it around his waist as he brought his lips to her jaw. He grazed it lightly and the shuddered breath Emily released melted him. “I thought this body was beautiful before you were pregnant,” he said, the words low against her trembling lips. “But now it’s exquisite. A vision of… perfection.”