“I could arrange to uncover it for you on a regular basis,” she offered.
“Mmm, you’re on.”
Her underwear fell down her legs and pooled at her feet. His mouth found her neck, and she tilted to the side to give him better access. As he kissed a line down to her shoulder, he moved his hands up to her bra straps and pulled them down her arms.
Hot and warm, his mouth worked lower, just above the swell of her br**sts. His fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra and finally it fell away, baring her br**sts to his mouth.
She sucked in her breath and held it when his lips hovered precariously close to her nipple. She strained upward, wanting that intimate contact. Her ni**les puckered and formed stiff, sensitive points.
And then his mouth closed around one straining peak.
Her knees buckled, and she clutched desperately at his shoulders in her effort to remain standing. He sucked strongly and laved the bud with his tongue.
Pleasure streaked sharply through her groin. Her pelvis tightened unbearably, and her clit swelled and twitched. She wanted him to touch her there, to relieve the unbearable pressure that grew with each swipe of his tongue.
For a moment, she lost her sense of time and place. Feeling, sensation, things she’d long been void of, came rushing at her from all directions. It frightened and thrilled her in equal parts. For too long the only things she’d felt were fear and loathing. How much more powerful were sensations of being loved and cherished?
And then he gently enfolded her in his arms, almost as if he knew how quickly she’d spiraled out of control. He was an anchor in a violent storm. Her rock. Her protection. She melted into him, holding on to him with what she could only deem desperation.
He picked her up. Her feet left the floor, and he carried her back until the mattress clipped the backs of her calves. Then he lowered her ever so carefully. His eyes bore into her. His expression was a study in fierce concentration. And determination.
Her back met the plush softness of the sheets. She shivered when for a moment he left her. Immediately she felt bereft of his warmth.
But he returned, crawling onto the bed. He loomed over her, his gaze so intent that she felt the heat to her toes.
“I wonder if you even know how beautiful you are to me,” he whispered as he straddled her body.
Sudden tears swam in her eyes, and she smiled up at him. She reached up to touch his face, her fingers shaking with the force of her emotions.
“Right now I feel beautiful.”
He captured her hand and pressed her palm to his lips. “I don’t want a day to ever go by where you don’t feel as beautiful as you do right now then. I’ll consider it my job to remind you at every opportunity.”
Her heart melted.
He took her hands and slowly lowered them to the mattress. He slid them high, just above her head, until he stared down at her, and she lay underneath him, completely vulnerable.
The thought should scare her. Logically. But she’d never felt safer. She smiled and arched her body invitingly.
With a tortured groan, he kissed her hungrily, loosing some of his tightly held control. He didn’t just kiss her, he ravaged her mouth.
Hot. Deep. So breathless she could never catch up. His tongue slid over hers, tasting, delving until all she could taste was him. All she could feel was him.
His body came down over hers, his hardness melding to her softer curves. His erection prodded impatiently at the juncture of her thighs, but he didn’t press forward. She cradled his hardness, the delicious sensation of him sliding over her most tender flesh, so erotic, so immensely pleasurable.
She opened her legs, and his c**k jumped, bumping against her swollen, throbbing clitoris. She moaned softly and twisted restlessly underneath him. He swallowed up the sounds she made. Devoured them and her with his hungry mouth.
The past year slipped from her mind. There was only now. Only the indescribable feeling of being back in her husband’s arms. He moved over her, big and urgent. She felt small underneath him but so very protected and cherished.
He swallowed her. No part of her was left untouched. His hands slid down her waist to her hips. His fingers curled underneath her bu**ocks, and he held her as he inserted his thigh between hers to spread her farther.
Then he slipped a hand between them and tenderly pushed his finger between her folds. The tip fluttered across her clitoris, and she reacted immediately, arching up. A whimper escaped her mouth.
He propped himself up with one hand while he carefully explored the delicate tissues of her femininity. He eased one finger inside her, testing her readiness.
It was almost enough to send her completely over the edge. She clamped down around his finger, her body so tight that she feared bursting.
He worked his thumb over the taut nub hidden within her folds, as he slid another finger inside her.
“Ethan, please.”
It didn’t sound like her. This needy, mindless woman wasn’t her, was it? She wanted to beg. Wanted to force him to thrust inside her. She wanted him more than she imagined ever wanting anything else.
As if sensing how far gone she already was, he shifted his body back over again and reached to position his c**k at her opening. He took the time to stroke her with his fingers once more before moving his hand up to lace his fingers with hers.
“Tell me if I hurt you,” he said hoarsely. “I want you with me all the way, baby. If anything I do scares you, tell me. I’ll stop.”
In response she lifted her hips, wanting him to slide inside.
He closed his eyes, as if fighting for control, and inched forward. She gasped at the sensation of him opening her, of her body stretching to accommodate him. It was the most magnificent, overwhelming sensation.