Irreplaceable by Jenna Hartley Out Today!
One impulsive, passionate week changed my life.
And I can’t stop thinking about it…or him.
The hot Italian with the full lips and inked skin.
The passionate man who made me feel incredible until I realized it was all a sham.
Because he lied.
About his name.
Now, I’m not only pregnant with his child but thrust into the spotlight.
Because my vacation fling, my baby daddy, is an international soccer superstar.
He wants a second chance, but I’m concerned that he’s as much of a player off the field as he is on it.
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His stare was intense, trapping me in his molten gaze. The air swirled with possibility, with desire and longing. We stared at each other a moment, the tension stretching between us like a rubber band on the verge of snapping.
He took a few steps back, testing the breaking point. Despite the distance, our bodies remained connected, tethered by some invisible link. As much as I tried to deny it, one look had me desperate for him. And judging from his clenched jaw and tightened fists, he felt it too. He was fighting it too. Fighting and failing.
It felt as if I was standing at crossroads. I could tell him I could manage and do it myself. Or I could have a little fun. This was vacation after all. And it had been so long since I’d had sex. Too long. I’d been so focused on work and getting pregnant that I hadn’t had time for much else.
Screw the three-date rule. It wasn’t like it had served me well in the past. And it definitely wasn’t now.
I let the sheet fall to my waist, the material opening to reveal more of my legs. I was naked, and Enzo eyed me hungrily. When he stepped between my thighs, I knew he was going to kiss me. I also knew I wasn’t going to stop him. But I didn’t realize how it would feel when he wound his fist in my hair, his lips crashing against mine, bruising, punishing, claiming.
Enzo kissed like a man possessed, and I was dizzy, delirious, lost. I’d never been kissed like this.
My body was on fire, and I wanted to burn. I didn’t fear the flames; I wanted to become them. I wanted to be reborn as something new. He’d called me uccellina, little bird—but in this moment, I felt more like a phoenix.
He kissed down my neck, grazing my shoulder with his teeth. He skimmed his lips over my nipples, and I nearly combusted. He smoothed a hand up my thigh, edging closer to my center. To where I really wanted him. Everything about his touch radiated strength and control.
Outside, the waves crashed against the shore, and I could feel the tide surge within me, seeking release.
“More,” I groaned when he nipped my skin. It wasn’t gentle, but I didn’t want gentle.
“You like that?” he asked, his tone conveying surprise.
I nodded, biting back a grin. His dark smile made me shiver in anticipation as he dove back in, scraping his teeth along my shoulder.
I reached inside his robe, eager to explore, to feel him without anything between us. I was greeted by velvet skin wrapped around his hard length. And the most decadent moan I’d ever heard.
“Uccellina,” he growled, gripping the back of my neck and forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes were hooded, voice gruff. “Che cosa mi stai facendo?”
“What am I doing…?” I trailed off, my brain too distracted to attempt translating. To me, it sounded beautiful, lyrical. It was almost as if his words were weaving a spell around me, luring me in.
“Lie down.” His quiet command had me doing just that.
Everything about Enzo was so masculine, so powerful. And I imagined if he’d told me to come, I would’ve orgasmed from his words alone.
He grabbed my wrists, lifting them above my head. He hesitated briefly, his eyes focused on my bracelet before he said, “Now, don’t move. Not unless I tell you to.”
I nodded, so very eager I feared it verged on desperate. The pressure built, lust overriding my better sense.
He skimmed his fingers down my arms, over my sides, before dragging them down my legs. I gripped the edge of the massage table, and he appraised me as if I were there solely for his pleasure. Both our smiles vanished, and I wanted to rub my thighs together, but I knew better. His command had me rooted to the spot, eagerly awaiting what would happen next.
His dark hair was shiny, and I ached to run my fingers through it as he explored my clit with his fingers then delved inside me.
“Sei magnifica. You feel your pussy, sucking my fingers in, holding me tight?” he rasped. “Imagine how good my dick will feel.”
His shoulders were strong, and I interlaced my fingers, squeezing my hands together to avoid the temptation to map his body as he took full control of mine. I leaned my head back. I was ready, my body poised to climax even as I wanted to draw this moment out as long as possible.
I’d felt so broken the past few months that this experience was incredibly empowering. Or maybe it was the way he looked at me. Because even though he was the one controlling my movements, guiding my body, I was the one who’d brought him to his knees. As he leaned forward, licking my clit, lapping up my juices, he appeared like a supplicant at an altar.
“Deliziosa,” he muttered then resumed his ministrations until my legs were shaking, and the pleasure built and built and built until it finally burst. Waves of ecstasy crashing over me.
I cried out and reached for him, needing to hold on to something before I floated away.
When he met my eyes from between my thighs, his lips were slick with my desire. “On your knees.” Then he softened. “As long as you think it won’t hurt your ankle.”
I shook my head. “I’ll be fine.”
When I did as he said, the sting of his palm against my ass made me freeze. The shock of it had me momentarily stunned, but as he rubbed the spot with his hand, I was struck by a sudden revelation. I liked it.
“Mm.” I could hear the smile in his voice, and it was as if he’d known this about me before I’d ever considered it.
I’d never had a man treat me so roughly, and I liked it. The way he fisted my hair. The tightness of his grip on my hip. The bruising way he kissed me. I liked that he wasn’t afraid I might shatter at the slightest touch.
He grabbed my hips, pulling me back to his mouth. “Oh! Oh.”
The moment his tongue hit my sensitive flesh, my knees nearly buckled. But he continued to feast on me, relentless in his pursuit of my orgasm. He licked and sucked my clit, fingering me until I was on the verge of coming again.
I wondered how he could extract so much pleasure from me. I’d never experienced a high quite like this, and I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out. But I trusted that if I did, he’d make it worth the wait.
I was panting, on the verge of begging, when he growled against my clit, “Come for me.”
His gruff voice traveled through me, detonating the explosion I’d been so desperately holding at bay. And what an explosion it was—such a sudden rush of sensations and colors that I was delirious. But he didn’t stop, not until I was limp and barely able to hold myself up.
It was only as I was coming back down to earth that I heard him say, “Buono.” Good.
Dear lord, that was more than good. That was… I didn’t even have words for how incredible he’d made me feel. When my friends had talked about sex in the past, I’d always listened with a bit of skepticism at their life-changing orgasms. But Enzo had converted me; I was officially a believer.
“Girati.” He gave my ass a gentle smack, announcing his intent that I turn over.
I smiled, amused that he’d been reduced to these one-word commands. Pleased that he’d resorted to his native tongue. Hearing him speak Italian was sexy as hell. And I would do whatever he wanted if he continued looking at me the way he was right now.
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Jenna Hartley writes romance about strong women and the men who dare to love them. Her stories feature sexy, sweet, and laughable moments that reflect real love. When she’s not reading or writing, Jenna is chasing after her daughter or enjoying another episode of the Great British Bake Off with her husband. She lives in Texas with her family and loves nothing more than a good book and good chocolate.