Her body became limp, only being held up by my hands and the way she was leaning into the headboard. My vision latched onto the sway of her breasts and tight peaks of her nipples, a groan slipping from me as I took in the slight imprint of hands.
Myhands.
I stared up at her from between her drenched, parted thighs, noting the way her hair fell down in a mess of waves—again, made frommyhands.
And as she shimmied back down my body, I saw the other imprint I left on her ass. A strong, primal urge to keep them there forever surged through my body, making precum drip from the tip of my cock.
My fucking hands were everywhere along my wife’s body—right where they were supposed to be.
27
Lyra
The Night
Ilaid on top of Carver, trying to catch my breath, but my heart wouldn’t allow for a calmer rhythm. My entire body hummed with him, and as he groaned, his chest bounced those vibrations right back along my skin.
“We aren’t done yet.” His calloused hand smoothed over my hair before his lips pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. Even with his tender touch, his cock bounced against my thigh, a reminder that we were nowhere close to being done.
You’re going to be covering me in your cum tonight. We’re not sleeping.
“I think you broke me,” I murmured, my legs trembling from the two back-to-back orgasms he gave me.
With one quick motion, he swept his leg between mine and rolled us, putting me on my back while his weight hovered above me. “I’ll go slow. Promise.” He was careful not to crush me as he pressed lingering kisses on my neck, then shifted lower. He kissed a line from my throat to between my breasts, then over each one, darting his tongue out to swirl over one nipple, then the other.
“I missed how soft you are.” He squeezed my breast as he continued lower, kissing a curvy line down to my navel. “So fucking pretty.” His hand slid down the side of my waist, supporting the arch in my back as he kissed even lower, and when he hit a spot right above my hip bone, I squirmed.
He laughed, low and warm. “You still do that, huh?”
I giggled. “I guess so.”
As he dipped between my legs, he flicked his atala blue eyes up to meet mine, the iridescence in them a startling reminder of the way he used to look at me. Like I was his everything, and nothing else mattered. Like he’d never feel for anyone else quite like he did for me.Like he'd spent years picturing this moment, just like he said he had.
“Stay.” His tone was pleading. “Wherever you just went to in your mind, leave that at the door.”
I met his splayed fingers at my sides and twined mine through in answer. “I want you up here. Now.”
His fingertips dug into the grooves between my knuckles. As he moved, he took one of my hands with him, using his other hand to brace himself above me. Our joined hands slid higher up the bed as he bent down, rubbing the tip of his nose to mine. I pressed my palm to his cheek, and he leaned into the touch.
“Ly,” he started.
“Don’t.” His brows furrowed as I cut him off. Whatever apology or question he had, I didn’t want it to bring out my anger. Right now, I was happy. Possibly the happiest I’d been since the last time we were in this same position. “Please. We can talk tomorrow.”
He nodded slowly, and as I spread my legs wider, he sank in closer to my center, the head of his cock nudging right at my entrance.
His lips brushed over mine. “Kiss me again, sweetheart.”
The moment our lips collided, so did our bodies. He pushed in to the hilt, and I moaned against his mouth. Our tongues and teeth and lips were dead-set on a dangerous collision course, but his hips maintained a slow rhythm, each move deliberate.
He released my fingers and slipped his hand beneath my knee, making him hit an angle that allowed him to go deeper. The only moments he left for breathing and not kissing, he was praising me, timing each with his thrusts.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”Out.“So wet, all for me.”In. “All fuckingmine.”Out. “You feel like home.”In.
My chest had already begun cracking since I watched him break in front of me in the truck, but now? How could I make him feel like that yet also hear that I was his home all in the same night?
“Stay. Here.” His voice left no room for negotiations. Not that I’d be able to form any coherently. Becauseslowbetween us only meant one thing—
My husband was making love to me.
