His Secret Baby. Marie Ferrarella

Addicted to the memory of what was and to the incredible draw of the promise of what could be.

      He needed her and could think of absolutely nothing else.

      Was she losing the battle? Or was Adam trying to be strong for reasons she couldn’t grasp? Eve didn’t know. All she knew was that she needed him. Badly. It was as if their lovemaking had taken place in another life, a life she needed to get back to.

      She raised her eyes to his, silently entreating him. And then, when he made no move to take her back into his arms, she finally put it into words, quietly saying, “Adam, don’t make me beg.”

      Her voice was low, but the need she felt pulsated throughout her entire being.

      “No begging,” he promised, his own voice husky with longing.

      The next moment, Adam covered her mouth with his own, kissing her deeply. In less than a heartbeat, he became lost within her.

      Sealed by that physical act alone, they were instantly one. Nothing mattered right now to Adam but this overwhelming, screaming need inside of him, this need that demanded satisfaction, some sort of an outlet before it completely tore him apart.

      The moment he silently surrendered control, it was as if someone had suddenly fired a starter pistol in the air, signaling the beginning of this explosive interlude. Adam found himself hardly able to remember how he got from one stage to another. Couldn’t actually recall how his clothes had disappeared from his body. One second, he was dressed, the next, he wasn’t. Had he done it, or had she? He was unclear as to the steps. Similarly, he wasn’t even sure if his hands had urgently tugged her dress from her while she had been similarly engaged with his clothes, or if they simply divested themselves of their own clothes.

      He was only aware of movement and shedding. Through it all, his mouth remained urgently sealed to hers as if his very life depended on it. In a way, it did.

      And just like that, she was nude. Her flesh was tender and pliant beneath his hands. He felt as if he was on fire just touching her, sliding his palms along her soft, soft breasts, caressing her supple curves and recommitting them to memory.

      This was only the second time he’d made love with her, and yet every touch, every pass, teased forth a memory from within him. Her body was oh-so-familiar to him even though, as he trailed his hands along her curves, he felt on the brink of an exciting new adventure.

      Over and over again his mouth slanted over hers, kissing the sensitive area along her throat, seeking out the hollow of her neck, the dip in her now-flat belly. Her moan of pleasure in response to his questing tongue set him off the way Adam thought nothing ever could, making his head spin.

      She had never told Adam that he was her first lover. It wasn’t the kind of thing a woman broadcasted, even though, in her case, she had never met anyone she’d wanted in her bed. In her heart, however, Eve was certain that someone with Adam’s experience would know. She, on the other hand, had nothing to compare except perhaps the first time that he’d been with her. What she vividly recalled was that she’d been utterly, hopelessly lost in ecstasy.

      This time around, the ecstasy had doubled itself so that she could hardly contain the wild feelings rushing through her. It was as close to an out-of-body experience as she would ever hope to have.

      She didn’t want it to end.

      Something told her this would only be a onetime thing. Last time, there’d been no encores because she’d discovered his secret life. This time around, she had a feeling that the cause for the lack of encores would be his.

      But if it came to that, she wanted this isolated moment in time to last as long as possible.

      Eve bit down on her lower lip as the first climax suddenly exploded over her, a depth charge coming from oblivion and targeting her. There’d been almost no warning. One moment, there was deliciously mounting pleasure, the next moment, fireworks.

      Bucking, raising her hips to absorb every ray of heat, every movement of his mouth over her inner core, she cried out his name and something more. With lightning flashing through her brain, Eve couldn’t even say for certain what it was that she had cried out.

      But Adam could.

      He’d heard it even though he told himself he’d imagined it.

      At moments like this, with control wrenched away from him, it was easy to hear things that weren’t said, see things that weren’t there.

      With his last scrap of strength, he forced himself to deny what part of him had thought he’d heard, burying the words “I love you,” even though, with all his heart, he wished he could acknowledge them, press them to his chest and echo them in kind.

      Instead, he drew himself up along her body, igniting them both as flesh rubbed against flesh. And just like that, he was hovering over her, looking down into her eyes, his gut tightening. Feeling things he couldn’t acknowledge, wanting to say things he couldn’t say.

      It was just the moment that caused him to get carried away, nothing more, Adam silently swore to himself.

      Even so, he gathered her into his arms, holding himself back as much as he could while positioning his hips over hers.

      And then he was inside again, entering as gently as he could, ever alert for any sign that he was hurting her. That she had, at the last moment, changed her mind.

      There was no sign.

      Her arms tightened around his neck and she held on as hard as she could, mimicking the rhythm of his hips, determined to feel the peak of the crescendo at the same moment as he did. And then, it seized her, sending a rainbow of stars shooting all through her. She held on as hard as she could, praying that the moment would never end.

      Mourning because she knew it had to.