Luke’s cock throbs in his pants. Christ, he wants his wife in the worst way. His lovesick horndog brain can’t even muddle through the events of tonight. One minute, he and Sal had been baring all; the next thing he knew, she was on his lap, her lips pressed hot against his, her entire body melting into him with needy want.
He stares down at Sal, propped up against the pillows, half-clad in her thin cotton dress. Her skin dewy with sweat. Her chest rises and falls in hot, wild animal pants. Her eyes glitter like bright emeralds. Her hair waterfalls down her shoulders, dark and glossy. Those lean runner’s legs that he loves crook at the knees, showcasing the luscious curve of her ass.
All Luke can do is stare in awe, his eyes feasting on her near-naked body. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this, but goddamn, he’s gonna enjoy it.
“Luke,” Sal whispers. A shy flush coats her cheeks. “You’re staring.”
“Damn straight I am.” Luke shakes his head in disbelief. “Woman, you are gorgeous.”
Sal grins. Her body arcs toward him, magnetic-like. She looks feral, full of heat, of animalistic want.
“I think that dress needs to come off,” Luke says.
Sal flashes a flirty grin. “I think you’re right.”
Her words send a wrecking ball of want through Luke. He’s doomed. That lovely, sultry grin of Sal’s has him by the balls.
Shedding his pants, Luke climbs onto the bed, watching as Sal easily shimmies out of her dress. His breath catches at the sight of her naked form.
Gorgeous. If he weren’t so goddamn hot for Sal, he’d get down on his knees and worship at the altar of his wife.
He wants this to be perfect. He’ll go at her pace. Slow. Gentle.
Though his dick is telling him otherwise.
She lies back against the pillows, her hooded eyes tracking him. Waiting for him.
Positioning himself beside her, Luke slides a hand under Sal’s slim upper torso and cradles her close.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hey, yourself.”
He kisses her silky lips. Then he dips his head to drag his breath over each pulse point of her body. Throat, wrists, temple. He takes his time. Savoring the rush of her blood. A reminder that Sal is alive. On this earth. In his heart. His bed and his hands.
Luke lets loose a guttural growl and deepens the kiss, drinking her in. Taking his time. Relearning the body of his wife, her wants and needs, her taste and her touch.
Sal murmurs her satisfaction, dragging her hands through his dark hair.
She breaks the kiss with a gasp.
“Please, Luke,” Sal pants. Her back arches, her breasts press against his chest. The heels of her feet knead against the bed. Her eyes desperate with fever. “I need you.”
I need you.Christ. The words mean to kill him.
She looks him in the eyes, cups his cheek. “Make love to me.”
“Are you sure?”
Though he wants her in the worst way, he’s content to just love her. Care for her. Wants nothing until she’s ready.
“So sure.” Her answer is a promise. Her beautiful eyes shine with tears. “I need you.”
Letting out a guttural cry, Luke roughly meets Sal’s lips.
This time, their touch sparks something—a reconnecting of the soul. A bolt of love rushes up their spines and between them.
Trembling, Luke positions himself to hover over Sal. Palms near the sides of her shoulders. She closes her eyes as he slides slickly inside her velvet warmth. Her mouth parted in a perfect red O, she shudders out a moan. Slowly, Luke begins to rock. Sal undulates with him, her hips pressing against his, her slender hands slipping over his shoulders. Tears stream from the corners of her eyes.