King's Baby - A Bad Boy Romance (40 page)

“Pinky swear?” he
says, walking me to the bed, where he lays me down and holds out his pinky
finger.

“Pinky
swear
.” We link our fingers together and shake on it.

“You love me again.”
He smiles like a kid in a candy store with an American Express card.

“I do.”

Standing at the end
of the bed, King reaches behind his head and pulls his t-shirt off with one
hand and drops it to the floor. I tremble at the sight of the body that I know
so well, the one I’ve been missing for years, the one I thought I had just lost
forever.

“Wait,” I say,
sitting up and placing a kiss on his chiseled abs.

“Wait? What do you
have in mind here,
baby
?”

“Nothing, just wanted
to see if you could do it.” I smile up at him, and he tackles me, dragging me
up the bed to punish me for teasing him.

“That’s the last time
that trick’s going to work, you know? You’re
gonna
get
it now, baby,” he says, stripping my clothes off.

“That’s what I’m
counting on.”

Epilogue

“Hey, gorgeous, wanna
go to the beach today, or maybe you’d rather go to the beach?” King whispers in
my ear from behind me, where he is spooning against me.

“I think you just said
the same place twice,” I murmur against his arm with my eyes still closed.

“That’s because we’re
in Aruba, on the beach, where I can watch my sexy wife in her tiny white bikini
all day. Unless you’d rather stay in bed naked all day. That’s even better. I’m
totally down for that.”

King slides his
chiseled, lean body against my backside, kissing and nipping a trail to my
waist and ending at the small of my back. He has one hand full of ass cheek as
he bites down a little harder than usual on the other, but I still giggle until
he turns me over and tears off the sheet to start our daily honeymoon ecstasy
festival.

I hold my hands over
my eyes and smile as he kisses every ticklish spot on my naked body.

“Close your eyes.”

“I’ve already got
them covered,” I say between fits of giggles.

“Just make sure
they’re closed, Mrs. Ortega, got it?”

“Yes, got it.”

I love it when he
calls me by my married name, and I love even more that it’s not a name
synonymous with the drug world. King took Sebastián’s name so we could start
fresh, and
fresh
is what he’s been
for the past ten days of our honeymoon. But I’m not complaining.

With my eyes closed,
I feel the warmth of his body disappear and I hear something being stirred in a
glass. The bed dips when he returns and straddles me between his legs. The
heavy weight of my favorite part of his anatomy rests on my belly.

I stick out my lip
and pout. “I wanna look.”

“Nope, not yet,” he
says, removing my hands from my eyes.

“Keep em closed.”

The sun pours in
through the windows of our bungalow so brightly that even with my eyes closed,
I can see his form moving above me through my thin lids.

“What are we doing?”

“Cross your wrists.”

I do as I’m told, and
he raises my wrists and ties them with a soft piece of material to the
headboard.

“Trust me?”

“If I could open my
eyes, I’d roll them so you would know how silly that question is.”

“Okay, open them.”

I swear, it doesn’t
matter how many times I look at this man—he still takes my breath away.
Every tattoo, every scar, every chiseled muscle makes my mouth water and my
heart flutter.

After my moment of
shock and awe, I watch as he reaches to the bedside table for a glass of water
with a spoon in it.

“What’s that?”

“Water.” He shrugs
matter-of-factly.

“You thirsty?” I ask,
smiling. I know he’s up to something.

“Nope.”

“Okay, I give, what’s
up with the water?”

He begins to stir,
and I see it begin to cloud from something that’s settled on the bottom.

“You gonna drug me?”

“Nope.” He stops
stirring and looks at me seriously.

“This is three
months’ worth of birth control pills.”

“What?” I try to sit
up, forgetting my hands are tied.

“Why would you ruin
all those . . .”

He’s smiling now as
he stirs. He sees that I’m beginning to understand.

“You want another
baby?”
My words are so soft
,
they’re
barely audible
.

“Yes. Do you?”

We haven’t talked
about expanding our family. It’s only been a year since I was reunited with
King and Juliette, but we’re married now, and all
of
the hurt and pain is behind us, so what better time?

“Yes.”
My eyes mist with tears of joy.

His smile widens and
he sets the glass down.
     

“Well, we could get
started trying right now if you want.”

“I need something
first.”

“Anything, baby, it’s
yours.”

“Pinky
swear
that you’ll never, ever leave me again.”

He looks at me long
and hard, deep into my eyes, past my common sense and around the corner to my
insecurities, where he stops.

“I, King Tomas
Ortega, pinky swear to love and honor, respect and be true to you, Holland Blue
Bennett-Ortega, until my dying breath.” He reaches up to where my hands are
bound and tugs on my pinky with his.

“Those are your
wedding vows.”

“Those are my pinky
swear vows now too.”

He drags his finger
from the hollow of my neck to my navel and wraps his hands around my hips.

“Okay, and one more
thing.”

He winks. “Anything.”

“I just want to be
Holland Blue Ortega, no more Bennett.”

He leans down and
feathers his lips against mine.

“You’ve got it, Mrs.
Ortega, now close your eyes again.”

“Again?” He nods, and
I close my eyes and feel another silky piece of material cover my eyes. He ties
it loosely behind my head, and when I open my eyes, it’s completely dark. His
lips are on mine again, more urgently this time. He takes his time, kissing me
dizzy and tasting every inch of me, from my shoulders to my belly. When I’m
panting and desperate, he leans back and bends my knees to grace me with the
pleasure of his mouth between my legs. I arch my back off the bed, coming apart
at the seams when he takes me to heaven, not once or twice, but three times
before sliding his thick cock into my soaking wet folds.

“I love you . . .
God, King, I love you.” I gasp and dig my nails into his arms.

“I love you too. Now
hold on.” His words send a shiver down my spine, and I grab the headboard tighter.
He glides out, and I hear him whisper something before he buries himself deep
inside of me, moaning against my skin. The headboard jerks when he reaches over
me to hold onto it for leverage. When he pulls away and begins thrusting in and
out of me, I can taste the desire in the room. I’m no longer in Aruba in a bed
with my new husband. I’m being tossed around in a tidal wave, sucked down deep
until I don’t know which way is up. I’m at his mercy, and his current pulls me
to the edge of pure pleasure until I burst through the surface and melt around
this man who loves me so completely.

My hands are released
and the blindfold is shoved down almost frantically.

“Holland, are you
okay?” Some things never change.

When I open my eyes,
King looks down at me with concern, still panting. I watch a drop of sweat
trickle down the side of his face and drip onto my bare chest. He gathers my
sated body into his lap and cradles me in his arms, stroking my hair and
rocking us back and forth.

“I’ve never heard you
cry out like that.”

“You’ve never made me
come like that.”

He stops rocking and
looks down at me.

“Never?”

“Uh uh, not like
that.” I shake my head back and forth. He looks around thoughtfully before
meeting my eyes again.

“Must have been the
restraints or the blindfold.”

“Nope, pretty sure it
was this,” I say, wiggling in his lap. He chuckles and lifts one corner of his
mouth in a smirk.

“Well, whatever it
was, I think I’ll do it again and again, and then we can eat, and I’ll give it
another shot—how’s that sound?”

“Like a perfect day
in paradise.”

“Every day is a
perfect day in paradise with you, baby. Every single day.”

ABOUT
THE AUTHOR

Emerson Rose is a self-proclaimed sun worshiper and summer
lover who loves nothing more than to be poolside with any of her five daughters
or two granddaughters. Emerson lives in the Midwest,
however,
so most of the year is spent in coats and boots instead of swimsuits and
flip-flops.

Emerson spends her weekdays carpooling, writing romance,
doing laundry, and letting dogs in and out and in and out of the house.

On the weekends she’s a busy O.B. nurse in a nearby hospital
helping women have babies. So you could say she works both ends of the life
spectrum, first she writes the romance that makes couples frisky and then she
shows up nine months later to catch the baby!

Emerson is also a big fan of love and happily ever afters.

“
I’ve been bitten by
the love bug and I can’t resist sharing that feeling. I write about strong
intelligent women and confident, competitive, dominant men who want to believe
they are in control. But hey let’s face it we all know who’s behind all that
confidence
.” – Emerson Rose

You can
like her on Facebook here.

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