Accidental Surrogate

Ella

The minute Hank gave his assent, Sinclair was moving, gathering me up into his arms and striding for the clinic’s door. We drew quite a few eyes on our way out – a gigantic man carrying a little pregnant woman bodily out of the doctor’s office, and her laughing with glee all the way. But I didn’t care. I ignored them all, pressing myself close to Sinclair, eager for his warmth and his comfort and his love.

We don’t say a word to each other on the ride home. Instead, I stare out the car’s windshield with Sinclair’s hand grasped in my own, my breath coming in short pants. My mind wanders back and forth between the thoughts of my child and my pregnancy, and the thought of my mate –

My mate his hard–muscled body, which I’ve wanted for weeks but haven’t even dared to touch outside of the dream space, for fear of losing control. Of his mouth, hot on mine, of his thick, hard cock, pressing against me, slipping inside me and

“You have to stop,” Sinclair growls, glancing at me as he speeds through traffic, weaving in and out of slower cars with expert grace. “I can feel what you’re thinking – I can smell it – and if you don’t stop I’m going to pull this car over right here

“Do it,” I dare, smirking at him, squeezing his hand hard. “Pull the car over, Dominic.” Then, I let his hand go and lean forward, slipping my hand onto the soft wool of his suit pants, moving it slowly upwards.

“God damn it, Ella,” Sinclair growls, snatching my hand away and glancing a glare at me. “We didn’t come this far to die in a car crash.”

closing my eyes, pressing my legs together against the steady ache that’s growing there. Then, I lean my head back and let my mind wander,

rips through the

open and I see one of our housemaids start in surprise as Sinclair storms through it, me in his arms. I barely manage to shoot her an apologetic look before Sinclair heads for the stairs, taking them two at a time. He moves with an agile grace, faltering only when I lean forward to press a kiss to his neck. He gives me

hold me close, lifting my face to his and kissing me deeply, as if never wanting to put me down. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back, letting him feel my joy at being able to hold him again, to be with his body the way that feels right to me, to let him feel my hunger and my desire. After a moment, though,

a good look

I take in my mate, the rippling

but I want to run my tongue

I tease, leaning back on my elbows and pressing my legs primly together. “What do

deciding precisely how he wants to pounce. He grips his belt, tugging it loose in a single jerk and pushing the waist of his pants so that they fall to the floor, his shorts going with them. And then he’s standing naked before

did the last time we were close like this, making his body a cage over me, one from which I have absolutely no desire to escape. As he closes the space between us, I feel my pulse

that this is his game, and I smirk. I tortured him in the car, and now he’s paying me back, making me wait while he lingers above me. The wolf in me rises to the bait, giving a snarl as I