Taste (Cloverleigh Farms, #7)

by Melanie Harlow

There was just something so irresistible about getting under her skin—I was a kid in a candy store around Ellie Fournier.

“Anyway, what do you have against getting a solid ten inches tonight? Sounds like a good time to me.” “Spare me the juvenile dick jokes, please.” “Does that mean I can make adult dick jokes?”

And now he’d gone and ruined sex for me too. How was I supposed to find another guy so patient and yet so sizzling hot? A guy I felt comfortable enough with to boss around? A guy who could rile me up with half a smile? A guy who turned me on and drove me crazy in equal measure?

Fuck me like you hate me.

Inside a minute, I had her up on the island, driving my cock into her again and again, savagely, furiously, like I wanted to punish her for the way she consumed my every waking moment. For the way she’d pushed me away. For making me doubt everything I knew to be true about myself. And she seemed just as eager to take her rage out on me.

I knew three things. I was going to be a father. I was going to be a good father. I was going to do everything in my power to make things right between Ellie and me. I’d always trusted my gut instincts, which usually told me when it was time to move on to the next place, take the next risk, chase the next thrill. But today when I’d heard that little heartbeat and saw those tiny feet and looked into Ellie’s brown eyes, my gut hadn’t told me to run. It told me to stay.