He dropped his head, chasing a smile away with his free hand. “My love?”
“Mm?”
“You do remember last weekend you got me off without even touching me? Trust me when I say that seeing your lips wrapped around my cock will more than likely give me another near-death experience.” His voice was rough, low, and wrecked.
“No dying on me.”
He palmed my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. “Lucky for me, you can revive me if I do.”
His hand slid to my stomach, then lower, fingers teasing between my legs, tracing a slow, tortuous path to my center.
I inhaled sharply, only letting the breath go when he pushed two fingers inside me.
“So wet for me.”
Before I knew it, I’d been outmaneuvered. He had the blanket open by the fire and me on my back.Hisface hovered over my sex, not the other way around.
“I’m a greedy bastard,” he rasped. “I have to taste you first.”
Then his mouth was on me, and I fisted the blanket, my back arching as his tongue dragged over me, his fingers driving deep.
Oh. My. God.
I couldn’t hold back. I probably lasted as long as I did the first time seventeen years ago, shattering against his tongue.
His hands traveled over my body as his lips moved up to my stomach, then to my breasts. My arms lay limply at my sides like I was the one who’d died and gone to Heaven. (That phrase officially had new meaning after Italy.)
Panting.
Breathless.
But not nearly sated.
I needed him inside me.
He took his time, worshipping my body with his hands and mouth, letting me come down from the high, knowing full well he intended to take me there again soon.
“Strip for me.” I reached up for his face, dragging my thumb along the line of his mouth. “I need to see you naked.”
“Whatever my wife wants, she gets.” He kissed the tip of my nose before pushing off the floor to stand.
I propped myself up on my forearms, just as greedy for him as he was for me.
He pulled his belt through the loops, whipping it off with a little crack like he wouldn’t mind putting it to use on my ass at some point, and smirked, amusement flickering in his eyes.
Yeah, he’d read my thoughts.
“I’d never . . .” His eyes flew between my legs. “Your delicate skin? No way.”
He slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt, then parted it open, revealing his hard, masculine chest.
I didn’t even notice the scars now. They may have been visible to the naked eye, but I knew the ones that’d pained him the most were now healed. And that was all I wanted for him—to feel whole and at peace. The way he made me feel.
When he was finally standing before me, a tower of naked strength, I switched to my knees, anxious for what was to come. So much was in store for tonight. And all the days, months, and years after tonight.
“Go easy on me,” he teased, stepping closer. “Don’t get me off in ten seconds. I have to save a little of my ego.”
“I’ll be gentle. Well, I’ll try, at least.” I chuckled, then eagerly closed the space between us and fisted his cock and cupped his balls.