Pregnant by the Billionaire: Pregnant with the Billionaire's Baby / Mistress: Pregnant by the Spanish Billionaire / Pregnant with the De Rossi Heir. Maggie Cox

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Pregnant by the Billionaire: Pregnant with the Billionaire's Baby / Mistress: Pregnant by the Spanish Billionaire / Pregnant with the De Rossi Heir - Maggie  Cox

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to be like this if Sin ever touched her again.

      Luccy groaned low in her throat even as her body curved into his, finding herself unable to do anything else but respond as she felt the heat of Sin’s body through his shirt as she reached up to grasp his shoulders, her own body flaring and coming tinglingly alive as the tips of her breasts responded to that heat. Sin seemed to take her response as acquiescence as his mouth suddenly hardened demandingly on hers.

      Every other thought fled her mind as Sin’s mouth continued to plunder hers, tongue questing, stroking, before thrusting deep, drawing Luccy into a swirling maelstrom of emotions and needs, her nipples actually aching now, burning, wanting—

      Luccy dragged her lips from his to groan low in her throat as she felt Sin’s hand against her naked breast, having no idea when he had slid the zip of her gown down her spine, and not caring either as he cupped and held her before finding that thrusting tip with light, caressing fingertips.

      ‘You can stop me at any time,’ he promised huskily.

      Luccy couldn’t answer him. She knew she should probably take him up on his offer to stop now, but her body was firmly intent on having its own way. She couldn’t think when his caresses drove her wild with wanting more, needing more, Sin obligingly giving her more as his skilful hand became more demanding and his head moved lower to draw the tip of her other breast into the heated cavern of his mouth.

      Luccy sank back against the cushions of the sofa, her body on fire, a deep aching need between her quivering thighs as Sin continued to make her burn with desire.

      Sin had meant it when he told her he would stop at any time, but he was fast losing control, no longer sure he would be able to stop!

      His gaze was hot and hungry as he raised his head to look at Luccy. At the twin peaks of her breasts with those rose-tinted tips and the flushed beauty of her face as he ran the pad of his thumb across one of those pouting nipples before once more slowly lowering his head to claim it with his lips and mouth. Immediately he felt her hips move restlessly beneath him with a greater, wilder need.

      His hand moved from her breast to her knee, her skin as soft as velvet. He gently stroked along the length of her thigh before sliding under the soft silk of her gown to touch the delicacy of her hip bone, the flatness of her stomach, his touch telling him that he had been wrong about her being completely naked under the red silk gown; she was wearing the briefest scrap of lace, her curls already damp with her need as he cupped her there before seeking the heated warmth beneath that lace.

      Luccy cried out at the first touch of Sin’s hand against the ultra-sensitive core of her arousal, her body seeming to melt as he stroked her there, his fingers moving in a rhythmic caress. His mouth moved from her breast to once more claim her lips, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of his fingers.

      It felt as if Sin were everywhere all at once. Above her. Beside her. Inside her.

      Luccy wanted him deeper inside her, hungered for his possession as his fingers caressed but didn’t quite enter her. Luccy writhed, lifting her hips to enable him to remove that scrap of lace, silently pleading with him to satisfy her torturous need. She cried out with pleasure as he finally gave her what she wanted. Luccy’s eyes widened as she felt the intensity of her pleasure increase to unbearable heights. Dear God, she was going to—

      Luccy groaned low in her throat, eyes closing, desperately pulling his shirt open before she dug her fingers deep into Sin’s naked muscled shoulders as the pleasure consumed her, filled her, his ravenous mouth on hers even as she convulsed about those thrusting fingers. Nothing else mattered at that moment except that she didn’t ever want him to stop, wanted, ached, for this pleasure to go on and on.

      Sin wrenched his mouth from hers to move lower, to give Luccy more as he once again drew one of her pink nipples into his mouth. He felt her back arch as she once more lost herself totally to that pleasure.

      He lifted his head to look at her, her breasts full, the nipples pouting a dusky pink now from the ministrations of his mouth and tongue. She groaned as Sin gently parted her legs, before lowering his head and suckling the hardened nub nestled there as her groans turned into a pleading mewl.

      Sin dealt quickly and efficiently with the fastening of his trousers as he knew that he couldn’t wait a moment longer to sheath himself inside her.

      Luccy groaned in protest as his mouth left her, that groan turning to a soft aching sound as she felt the tip of his hardened shaft rubbing against her before slowly, inch by pleasurable inch, he entered her.

      He was big and hard, steel encased in velvet, his hands moving to cup her bottom as he began to slowly move in and out of her. Luccy’s eyes closed in ecstasy at each thrust, her hand moving down to draw him deeper inside her as those thrusts became fiercer, his mouth once more claiming hers as she felt him tighten, harden, swell inside her before climaxing long and deliciously inside her, inciting wave after wave of new, totally uncontrollable pleasure.

      Luccy returned slowly to a sense of who she was, where she was, and who she was with, never having experienced anything so wild and wonderful in her life before, her body still quivering from each pleasurably memorable caress.

      She was Lucinda Harper-O’Neill, photographer for PAN Cosmetics, and she was lying half naked on a sofa in a hotel suite, her body still intimately—very intimately!—entwined with a man called Sin…

      How had this happened?

      She had spent the last seven years without even thinking about becoming physically involved with anyone, too engrossed in making a name for herself as a photographer to have room for anything else in her life. So what was it about Sin that had changed all that? Why him? What—?

      ‘I’ve always found self-recriminations after the event to be less than constructive,’ Sin advised quietly as he felt the sudden tension in the woman beneath him. He gave her a few seconds to let his words sink in before raising his head to look at her.

      If anything she looked even more beautiful with that slightly bewildered look in those amazing blue eyes, her lips swollen from the fierce intensity of their kisses, and there was a rosy flush to her cheeks.

      Sin felt no less bewildered himself by the wildness of their lovemaking, could never remember being so aroused by a woman—any woman—that he had almost ripped his own clothes off in his need to join his flesh with hers.

      In fact, he still had most of his clothes on. Both of them did.

      His smile was rueful as he raised one of his hands to lightly caress her flushed cheek. ‘Let’s finish undressing, hmm, take a shower, and leave all conversation until later,’ he suggested gently.

      Luccy didn’t want to have a conversation at all with this man! She didn’t want to have anything with him, and was utterly mortified by what she had just allowed to happen.

      She wasn’t the type of woman to indulge in a one-night stand with a man who completely swept her off her feet. Or, at least, she hadn’t been…

      Regroup, Luccy, she instructed herself firmly. Gather your scattered wits together and just try to come out of this situation with some of your dignity intact.

      She kept her gaze on Sin’s muscular chest—dear God, she had almost ripped his shirt off him minutes ago!—as she moistened her lips before speaking, the gesture not in the least reassuring as she instantly felt the sensitivity of their bruised fullness. ‘I don’t believe a post-mortem after the event is necessary, either,’

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