Pangs of impatient longing stormed her body. They’d gone the old-fashioned route and hadn’t slept with each other since the day she’d agreed to become his wife. Now all that pent-up hunger was ready to explode and she couldn’t remember ever feeling this way before. Not even on that first night, when she’d dragged Dylan on top of her during the blackout and they’d made reckless love. She knew the difference now. She understood why it seemed so different, answering a nagging question that had plagued her foggy memory. That time, she’d been desperate, eager to have a friend banish her fears. But this time, there was no desperation, only intense passion and true desire, and for her...love.
Dylan went down on his knees, caressed her rounded belly and placed a kiss there. His hands wound around to her butt. Holding her firm, he rested his head on her stomach, and after few reverent seconds, he rose and drew her close in his arms. “Welcome home, Emma,” he whispered over her mouth. He lifted her up carefully and swung her around once. “This will have to take the place of carrying you over the threshold.”
He laid her down on the bed.
“Thresholds are overrated,” she whispered, reaching for him.
Dylan came to her then, climbing into the bed beside her. He leaned over and kissed her again and again until her head swam, her body ached and every nerve tingled. He cupped her breasts and made love to them with his mouth. Her hips swung up, her back bowing, the straining, pink peaks of her nipples sensitized and gloriously begging for more.
She wound her arms around his neck and caressed his shoulders, her palms flat against the breadth and strength of him, solid and sure and smooth. Her fingers played in the short blond spikes of hair, the military cut grown out some, and for the first time, she could say she possessed him as much as he possessed her.
“Ah,” she cooed as his tongue licked at her and her entire body strained.
She had to touch more of him, to give as much as she was receiving.
She rolled him away and came up over him, kissing his lips and flattening her palms over his chest. His skin sizzled and she absorbed the heat, gloried in the rapid heartbeats nearly exploding from his chest. She kissed every part of it and a groan escaped his lips when she wandered down and hovered around his navel. His body pulsed, his breath caught. She wouldn’t deny him what he wanted. She slipped her hand under his waistband and met with raw, powerful, hot silk.
“Emma,” he rasped, almost in a plea.
She wound her hand around his full length and stroked him, settling into a rhythm. Breath hissed from his mouth, as sensation after lusty sensation drove her on. She unzipped his trousers and he quickly removed his remaining garments. He lay naked before her. He was beautiful, broad where he should be broad, muscled in a jaw-dropping way and lean everywhere else. There wasn’t bulk, but rugged, hard-won sculpture. She couldn’t believe Dylan was her husband. How had she gotten so lucky?
She continued to caress his upper body as she dipped her head down and took him to a place that had both of them panting and hungry. Dylan’s pleasured groans inspired her lusty assault. But then he grabbed her shoulders and backed her away. “Enough, sweetheart,” he said. Yet his expression said anything but. His restraint was endearing and tender, even as both of them were nearly destroyed.
He rolled her under him and began the same kind of lusty assault, using his hand first and then his mouth. Pleas and moans slipped from her lips, over and over, until she reached the very edge of pleasure. Her release came fast and hard. It shattered her, split her in half and half again. It was powerful, explosive, the pinnacle of pleasure. When she came back to earth, Dylan’s eyes were on her, watching her in awe. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t immensely satisfied, nor would she want to. Dylan was an expert lover and she was attuned to him and his body.
She reached up to touch his face. He placed a kiss in the palm of her hand. She slipped her index finger into his mouth, and his hazy eyes widened, new energy erupting from him. No words had to be said. He growled and rose up over her. Within seconds, they were joined. She’d already gotten used to the feel of him inside her, the surge of power even as he took things slow, making sure she was comfortable. He couldn’t possibly know how right this felt to her, how her body wrapped around his with possession and adoration. She had let go of her fears when she was in bed with him and gave of herself freely.
Dylan appreciated that—she witnessed it in his expression. She’d never tire of watching him make love to her, to see the complexities on his face, the hunger, the passion and raw desire. She watched him and he watched her and they moved in unison, his thrusts coming stronger now, filling her to the max, giving her another round of hot pleasure.
Dylan’s guttural groan echoed in her ears. He reached as high as he could go. She, too, was there with him, arching up and taking that final earth-shattering climb. And then they exploded, sharing the precarious cliff and taking the fall together.
She gloried in the aftermath of his lovemaking and lay beside him, with no words, just feelings of total acceptance and tenderness and protection. If Dylan couldn’t give her his love, at least she had that.
Dylan grasped her hand, lacing their fingers together. “My wife.”
It was like a song to her ears. “My husband.”
“After I finish this movie, I’d like to take you on a real honeymoon, Em. I have a place in Hawaii, or we can go to Europe. If the doctor says it’s okay. If not, we can go somewhere locally. We’ll find a hideout, maybe up north. A friend of mine has a cabin by a lake.”
“Any of the above sounds wonderful.”
“Really?”
“Really. I’m low maintenance, Dylan.”
He turned onto his side to face her. Leaning on an elbow, he twirled a thick strand of her hair around his finger. “I love that about you, Em. You’re easy.”
“Hey!”
He laughed and the sound was beautiful and husky and filled with joy. “I meant you’re easy on the eyes, easy to get along with, easy...and fun.”
“You think I’m fun?”
His eyes narrowed and his brows lifted in a villainous arch. “So fun,” he said. He removed his hand from her hair and used his index finger to circle and tease the pink areola of her breast. Both nipples grew hard and pebbled. Gosh, she was so easy.
He bent and kissed both breasts and then sighed. “I should really let you get some sleep. You must be tired.”
“Not all that much.” Being in bed with him gave her energy and excited her as nothing else ever had. She ran her fingers through his mop of spiky, military-cut hair, grateful to have the freedom to do so—to touch him whenever she wanted. “Did you have something in mind?”
“You don’t want to know what’s on my mind.” His mouth twitched, his smile wicked. But then he gathered her up in his arms and covered them both with the sheets. “Sleep, Emma. I’m not going to wear you out tonight.”
“Darn.”
He chuckled.
She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes.
She’d have a lifetime of nights like this with Dylan.
She couldn’t imagine anything better.
* * *
Cameras flashed like crazy as a dozen photographers on the red carpet of the premiere of Dylan’s romantic comedy, A New Light, caught sight of him with Emma as they exited the limousine. Just one look at her and they started tossing out questions.
“Who’s your date, Dylan?”
“You’ve been holding out on us!”
“Are you going to be a father? Is she your baby mama?”
Dylan hugged Emma closer, his arm tight around her waist. She looked gorgeous in an organza gown he’d had tailored just for her. Her belly bump couldn’t be hidden any longer, but the Empire style of the dress and the floral colors showcased her skin tone and her pregnancy in a beautiful way. “Sorry, honey. This is my life.”
“It’s okay, Dylan,” she said. “You warned me about this.”
Selfishly, he’d wanted Emma by his side tonight. Hiding the news of his marriage and the upcoming birth of his baby was proving harder each day. He’d talked to his publicist and they’d both decided that tonight during the movie premiere would be the best time to introduce Emma as his new wife to the world. At least the media would get the scoop from him, and not have to speculate or make up lies to fill their pages.
So right there on the red carpet, with a crowd gathering and the media in his face, Dylan proudly announced, “I’d like to introduce my new bride, Emma McKay. We were married last week in a small ceremony on the beach. Emma and I have known each other since my days in Ohio. I’m happy to say we’ll be parents by early next spring. She’s an amazing woman and we’re both thrilled to have a baby on the way.”
“Is it a boy or a girl?” someone shouted.
“We don’t know that yet.”
“When did you get married?”
“Last Saturday.”
“What is Emma’s maiden name?”
“Bloom,” Emma answered, and Dylan slid her an appreciative glance. She wasn’t going to let him take all the heat. She’d have to learn to deal with the media and it might as well start now.
The reporters angled their microphones her way now. “How do you feel marrying the world’s most eligible bachelor, Mrs. McKay?”