Page 122 of The Hotel Room

His body responded with an even harder, sharper pulse of arousal, his erection pressing insistently against her. She was everything to him. Her body had taught him what desire was, what intimacy was.

He didn’t just know her body; he was attuned to it. Every curve, every breath, every soft sound she made had become part of him, etched into his very being.

Now, here in their martial bed, with his wife in his arms, every movement she made sent a ripple through him. The way her hips shifted, the warmth of her skin under his hands—it was a symphony of sensations that overwhelmed him, made him desperate to give her every ounce of pleasure she deserved.

His chest tightened as a rush of love and desire sweeping through him. He buried his face against her shoulder, pressing a soft kiss there. “I can help you,” he murmured against her skin.

He waited, his heart pounding in the silence, every second stretching unbearably as he wondered if he’d overstepped. The vulnerability of the moment hung heavy in the air, and all he could do was hold his breath.

She stilled for a moment, then nodded, her voice barely audible. “Okay.”

James inhaled a shaky breath. His hand slid down her side, tracing her curves. He moved slowly, carefully, his fingertipstrailing with precision over her skin, mapping the familiar terrain of her body.

Every touch was deliberate, every motion born of decades of knowing exactly how to unravel her. When his fingers dipped between her legs, he found her already warm and wet, and his heart pounded in his chest. Her breath hitched sharply, and it sent a shiver of both love and need through him.

Kate’s back arched slightly, pressing closer to him, and a soft, breathless gasp escaped her lips. She grabbed his forearm—not to stop him, but to hold him to her, her fingers curling around the solid muscle.

James’s arm flexed under her tight grip, the feel of her hand on him fueling the fire building within him. She didn’t need to worry about him stopping. That thought didn’t exist. There was no world in which he would stop now, not when she was responding to him like this.

She was hot and wet around his fingers. James panted softly against the back of Kate’s neck, his breath unsteady. He slid a leg between hers, gently urging her open to him. Her body moved with his touch, each shift and tremble pulling him deeper into the moment.

He adjusted his hand slightly, working his fingers inside her but letting his palm glide over her in a rhythm he knew would drive her higher. He could feel the tension building in her body, the way her breath quickened and her hips began to move unconsciously against him, seeking more.

He pressed his forehead to her shoulder for a moment, grounding himself and let his lips hover near her skin. Thetemptation to kiss her pulled at him like a magnetic force. Gently, cautiously, he allowed himself to place a soft kiss against her neck—just one. She’d always loved that.

He was making up these rules as he went, but this one felt unshakable: if it brought her pleasure, it was allowed. If it served only his own desires, it wasn’t.

“James,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of urgency and surrender.

His cock throbbed, a hard and insistent reminder of his own need, but he ignored it. She deserved his full attention, his every effort to make this moment about her happiness, her comfort, her trust. Nothing else mattered.

He leaned closer, pressing his lips gently to the back of her neck once more, his breath warm against her skin. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Just let go, Kate.”

Her grip on his forearm tightened briefly, her nails pressing into his skin. Her body responded beautifully, arching and pressing against his hand as a soft, broken sound escaped her lips.

James absorbed every reaction—every gasp, every shiver—like a man starving. This was his wife, his partner, the mother of his children, and the woman who had owned his heart for his entire adult life. And in this moment, as she began to crest the edge, in his arms, he knew he would do anything—everything—for her.

Her release came in a wave, her body trembling against his as her breathing turned ragged and her nails dug faintly into hisarm. James held her through it, his movements slowing as he eased her down gently, careful to make the landing as soft and warm as the ascent.

She let out a long, shaky breath, her body melting into his, and James pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her neck, his own heart pounding as he wrapped his arm protectively around her.

He pressed his lips to her shoulder again, his own arousal throbbing insistently, but it didn’t matter. This was about her. About showing her how much she meant to him, how much he loved her.

As her breathing slowed, she turned her head slightly, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice heavy with satisfaction.

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his heart full as he looked at her. “Always.”

And as she drifted off to sleep in his arms, James lay awake. He had hurt the woman he loved in an unimaginable way. He didn’t deserve this second chance in her life but he couldn’t walk away from her.

He couldn’t help but think that this—this closeness, this connection—was worth more than anything else in the world. She needed to know that, he thought. She had to know. And she had to know that he would do anything he could to ensure he never hurt her again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Kate

The envelope sat on the kitchen table, plain and unassuming, but it felt like it carried the weight of a lifetime. Her name was written on the front in James’s handwriting—strong, familiar, yet somehow different. A little shakier, a little more deliberate, as though every letter had been carefully etched.

Kate stared at it for a long moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to open it. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to read whatever James had poured into it.

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