This is the last thing on earth I should be doing—fucking my secretary on my balcony, in full view of everything and everyone. But it's the only thing on earth that I want to be doing right now. And Skye wants it, too. I've given her every opportunity to back out, and here she is, taking all of me, working her hips back to take even more, to get every last inch.

There are two reasons I brought her out here. First, and least sexy, is that my air conditioning isn't working—and the last thing I want is for Skye to overheat during this moment. And second, I'm hoping that being out on the balcony will distract her from the part of me I'm not ready to reveal in full light yet.

I came back from Afghanistan with a scar across my lower belly, and I fucking hate it. It’s a showstopper, which is why I haven’t bothered to get intimate with many women since then. They always want to talk about it, and marvel over it, and it makes my skin crawl. I don’t think Skye would do that, but between her offer this morning at the office and the way she seems to want me just as much as I want her, I can’t think straight.

Better to avoid the entire thing. Better to just leave it on the bedside table for another day.

I thrust into her and her muscles clench around my cock, so tightly it’s unbelievable. Skye isn’t a virgin—she would have said so—but she might as well be for how she clamps down on my length, wet and fresh and strong.

She bends over, legs spread wide to keep her balance, hands firmly clasping the railing. She’s doing a fucking great job of staying quiet.

Well, even though I told her to do that, I’m going to make it a challenge.

I settle into a rhythm, slow but strong, and reach around to the front of her waist, starting at her belly button. With every inch I work my fingers toward her clit, she rocks back against me with a little more force. When I finally make contact, she pushes herself back against me as hard as she can, and I hear her hand slap against her mouth.

I swirl my fingertips over her pulsing button, and immediately I get a reaction. Her pussy tightens around my cock in time with my fingers, and she lets out delicious little mewls into her own hand. She’s dancing on my cock, her hips working from side to side, and it’s bringing me closer and closer to my own edge.

But her first.

“Are you ready to come for me?” 

She has to take her hand away from her mouth to answer. “Yes. Oh, God, please yes.”

“Hands on the railing, sweetness.”

Reluctantly, she puts both hands back on the railing. “But I might—”

“Make a sound, so that the rest of the city knows what I’m doing to you?”

She nods, not even willing to say it out loud.

“I guess you’ll have to decide if it’s worth the risk.”

It’s getting harder and harder to put words together, and with every stroke my mind melts down even further into Skye’s sweet body. My mind screams a warning—this is risky, this is dangerous—but at the same time, another part of me is urging my body on. This could be the woman who opens the rest of my career by opening her legs. She’d be the perfect person to present to my father. How could he deny me the trust fund money with Skye’s big green eyes looking up at him? I couldn’t resist her. I can’t resist her. And I can’t imagine anyone could.

I pump into her, the heat building in my own hips. I can feel every muscle tensing, working to fuck her harder. She lets out a moan, cutting herself off just at the last moment.

“Good girl,” I tell her, and she gushes over my skin. So that’s what she likes. I can fucking do that.

I pick up the pace, giving myself over to this moment. I’ve long stopped looking down into the park to see if anyone is watching. I don’t fucking care if they’re watching. All I want is Skye. All I’ve wanted from the moment I first saw her is Skye. I tried to tell myself that it was all her—she was the one who looked at me with fuck-me eyes across the office every day. But deep down, I was just as guilty.

Guilty can feel so damn good.

Skye meets my rhythm with every movement, and then she says something I don’t expect. “Do it.”

“What?” I force the word out through gritted teeth.

“Come inside of me. Get me pregnant. You need this baby, Mr. Hunter—” The Mr. Hunter almost does me in. “And I want it. I want to have your baby.”

“I can’t do that.” I also can’t stop thrusting in and out of her. I’m past the point of no return.

“Please, Mr. Hunter. Please. I want this. I need this.”

“I—”

“You don’t have a condom, do you?”

“No.” I don’t know what I was planning to do—pull out and come hard on her back, in that nice little crack between her ass cheeks. Yes. That was it. That was the plan, but now, with her wetness all around me, her smooth voice begging me—she’s literally begging me—to fill her up, to make her mine, even though this can’t be long-term, she can’t possibly want to be with me forever—

My mind reels with it all, but Skye bucks her hips back against mine. ”Please,” she says, one last time, and I can hear in her voice the need, the want, the desperation. 

I’m a man who’s known for maintaining control. I was in the Army, for God’s sake, and I’ve built Hunter Housing from the ground up with my bare hands. I’ve pulled it out of the scorched earth and made a home for hundreds of people. I want to give homes to hundreds more. All I need is a baby. All she needs is a safe harbor.

What are the odds, anyway? It would have to be fate for her to get pregnant right now. When she doesn’t, we can always resort to using my plan...

I can’t deny her.

Her please echoes in my head, driving me over the edge. I hold her tightly, pulling her back so I can drive my cock as deeply as possible into her one last time, and I come hard, filling her up until I’m completely spent.

There’s no going back now.