Dangerous Devotion – An Age Gap Secret Baby Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Forbidden, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 55860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
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“I like this,” he says with a smile, “how you shaved for me so I can see how pink and pretty you are, so I can touch you with nothing in my way. “

My eyes lock onto the place he’s touching me, the lewdest sight: the pad of his thumb just above my clit, tugging the tiniest bit, lifting the hood. Lightning sizzles through me at his thumb commanding my entire body, every nerve and cell working in concert as he directs my pleasure.

I bite down on my lip and jerk my hips forward, swallowing the last inch of his cock and rocking, riding him hard. The slap of our flesh drowns out the piano music and sounds filthy in the silent room. He works me over then, the fingers of one hand teasing my mound, my outer lips, while the other clenches around my breast, then pull and pinch on my nipple making it stand out, reddened and hard.

Jack steadies me with both hands on my hips, lifts me, pulling his cock free of my trembling wetness. I give a cry of dismay, greedy for his invasion. He chuckles softly at my impatience. One sweep of his thumb brushes my seam. I try to catch my breath, watch his eyes darken with intent. I’m suspended and taut, waiting breathless for him to make whatever move he has planned. I’d be begging, babbling if I could think.

He overwhelms me suddenly, crushes me to his chest, his arms around me, his movements less smooth, more desperate. Jack spears me then, before I can catch my breath. I clutch him, kiss his jaw as he pumps inside me. With a sound something like a sob, I feel myself lift free of the concrete world and pulses of white-hot pleasure chase each other along my limbs as the spasms go on and on.

The strength of my climax nearly forces Jack out of me as my inner muscles clench so hard. He grips me, mouth finding mine as he swallows my cries. We’re fevered, clumsy as we fight to join and thrust together. He grows rigid in my arms, the fiery gush of his climax pours into me, and I come again at the relief of it, laughing and crying at once.

“Maybe—you’re right—” he breaks off, winded, his hands trailing down my spine as I taste the film of sweat at his throat.

“About what?” I murmur. “I love being right.”

He nips my chin playfully.

“You said you got feelings for the wrong man. Maybe that’s me, the wrong man. But wrong or right, I’m the man who’s got you.”

“You’ve certainly got me.”

“Once I kissed you, I knew there was no getting over the chemistry. I’d just want you more. What I’m saying is, I’m not the right guy for you. We both know it. But I want to be the one who takes you to dinner. Not a taco truck or a bodega sandwich. A date.”

“Are you asking me to go steady?” I giggle, forcing myself to keep it light when all I want to do is kiss him a thousand times and say yes, that I’d go anywhere he asks me to go.

“No, I’m asking you on a date.”

“This is all so sudden!” I tease.

He grins at me, flips me onto my back on the couch. I arch into him, arms stretched above my head as he pins me down into the leather cushions, sliding into me once again. My body is slick and open to him, his touch everywhere. His hand clamps onto my wrists and pins my arms. The restraint makes my eyes fly open and meet his, my hips bucking with arousal.

“Have. Dinner. With. Me,” he orders me, punctuating each word with a thrust until I come apart on him, body drawn taut as a bowstring before I scream high and long.

“I take that as a yes,” he says smugly.

10

JACK

I’ve hardly ever bought a woman anything but a drink or dinner, but now I knew Serena’s sizes. I learn the colors and fragrances she likes, teasing the information out of her with light touches, using a well-placed caress and the promise of my hot mouth on her nipple once she satisfies my curiosity on some mundane topic.

“The CIA missed their shot at you. You could make people tell you anything,” she pants, annoyed.

“The CIA could never afford my services. Not to mention the fact that I don’t torture information out of people most of the time. That’s just a treat I save for you.”

I take her for lobster the first night we go to dinner. She says it tastes sweet, and then she gives me a shy smile and kisses me right there at the table. It’s hard to stay the length of time one would expect normal people to remain at a table instead of dragging her by the hand to the nearest exit. That night we make it as far as my car before we can’t wait another second.



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