Free Sweet One (Titan Book 8) by Cristin Harber

of his head in that special place that made him turn to mush, right under the crown.
    That she could do that to him, the guy who was God’s gift to women—who, even when her belly poked out, still drank her up—made him more than someone to marry. He was the one to spend forever with.
    His eyes were sealed and his head pressed back into the pillow. Nicola rose on her knees and guided his shaft between her legs. Cash sucked air as his blunt head made contact with her needy, wet flesh, and she hungrily inched herself onto his cock, letting the invasion stretch her, feeling the slight difference of pregnancy sex and the pressure from within her body.
    “Nicola?”
    She hadn’t realized her eyes were closed and her lips had parted. “Yeah?”
    “You okay, baby?”
    Nodding, she tested how true that was. Whoa. Yes. Very okay. Her breaths shook. “Yeah. This is good.”
    His hands went to her sides, where he so often had held her as she fucked him, and his strong fingers were expertly gentle. He wasn’t too careful but wouldn’t come close to bruising her. But, God, he commanded her hips to sway, and they did. Her lungs couldn’t fill deep enough to keep away that moaning, gasping, needing breath that fell from her lips. “Cash, this is… so…”
    His fingers gripped tighter on her hips as she relaxed and, now completely accustomed to his length, slipped back and forth on his shaft, riding him as her heavier-than-normal breasts tingled with newfound arousal. He dropped a hand to her butt cheek, squeezing it while the fingers of his free hand teased her clit.
    “Sweet Jesus.” Cash’s low growl of a curse came as his hips began to flex just a little. Just enough. Meeting her stride, letting her still dictate, he sent her straight to the pearly gates of almost orgasmic overload.
    Nicola ground down on him, and his mouth gaped.
    “Killing me, Nic.”
    “Yes,” she panted.
    He reached for her face, threading his hands into her hair, pulling her into a kiss, and took over, thrusting into her body, and she cried as the orgasm hit hard. Shaking and bucking, Cash kissed her harder, holding her to his chest, owning her kiss, and he came too, hot and deep inside. Each thrust felt better than the last as he slowed.
    They were tangled—arms and legs, locked lips and heavy breaths—pulsing, sated, and still attached at the hips. She went limp as bliss rolled from deep inside her belly to the far reaches of her fingertips and toes.
    Cash twisted their bodies and lay over her without crushing, his mouth unmoving and not kissing but not leaving hers, and their hearts slammed back and forth, talking in unspoken words.
    “I…” He inched back, brushing the hair off her cheeks, then kissed her forehead, letting his love-swollen lips linger. “Need you as much as I love you.”
    Thank God for her husband. “You just made my soul smile.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
     
    Three days had ticked by, and Nicola and he had left the lack of bad vibes unsaid. Whoever had been watching them was gone. Today something was different in the air. There was a reason both had been called to their careers. They possessed a sixth sense where doom and gloom were concerned.
    “You check the imaging?” Nicola casually sipped her tea—which the local coffee shop had assured her a dozen times was decaf—but her cool and laid-back act wasn’t fooling him.
    “Yup.”
    “The baby’s Spidey senses are tingling.”
    His eyes dropped to her stomach. “Guess it runs in the genes, huh?”
    “HQ have any idea?”
    “On who’s snooping around?” He shook his head. “But if all three of our Spidey senses are humming, we’ll know soon enough. The White House has less security protocol per square inch than we’re running in this place, so—”
    Both their phones lit with an alert.
    Her eyebrows went up, and she met his I-knew-it gaze. Cash swiped the screen of his phone, knowing that they’d see more than a roaming seagull or a wind-tossed piece of