The tv is long forgotten when she sees me enter the room.
Despite how tired I know she must be her face lights up like the Fourth of July. And it happens every time I come home. She’s always fucking ecstatic to see me.
Bouncing off the couch and right into my arms she nuzzles her face in the crook of my neck. I inhale the sweet scent of jasmine and peace overcomes me.
“One of these days you’re going to listen to me and wait up for me in bed,” I say softly to her.
She smiles against my neck. Pulling back she replies cheekily, “Then how will I get those punishments I love so much?”
I palm her ass in my hand, giving it a firm squeeze before slapping it.
Her legs wrap around me tighter as she lets out a breathy moan.
God, she’s so fucking perfect.
I press a kiss to the tip of her nose and then brush my lips against her mouth as I tell her, “Made for me. You were fucking made for me.”
Her lips capture mine in a sweet and tender kiss. I let her take the lead for only a moment. Then, my tongue is plunging in her mouth and her body is writhing with need against my own.
Kissing Grace is a necessity. I swear I need to taste her lips more than I need to fucking breathe.
“Where’s Connor?” I ask her in between our kiss, before things get too hot and heavy, before we combust right here in the open.
She replies between our kiss, “In his room with Chewbacca.”
I grunt in reply, digging my fingers in her ass to have her squeal in my mouth.
Then, like a mad man on a mission, I carry her in large strides to our bedroom. Once we reach our room I shut the door behind us and lock it for good measure. I have her back slammed up against the door frame and her hands are already working in a frenzy to get my shirt off. Leaning back I throw my shirt over my head and dive back down for another spellbinding kiss.
Her hands roam over my body in worship. And my body is singing her name in praise.
Wanting to worship her I carry her over to the bed and with a gentleness that surprises her I lay her down.
Although the lust in my eyes is crazed and the hunger inside me is primal I want to take things slow tonight.
And that’s exactly what I do.
I make love to her tenderly. Each touch heightens the sensation. Every thrust has her clenching around me. Every kiss has meaning. Our bodies are becoming one in more ways than one.
It isn’t long before I have her shattering beneath me. The orgasm hits her long and hard. I follow her soon after, crushing her with my weight on top of her.
As I go to move, her boneless limbs find the strength to tighten around me. “Don’t want to crush you, baby.”
Her eyes are closed with a soft smile on her face. “I love the feel of you on me.”
I press a kiss to her lips. Compromising, I switch our positions. She lies happily and peacefully on me. A hum of appreciation coming from her that has me smiling from ear to ear.
Lazily, I run my fingers through her wild and sweat slicked hair.
God, this woman is mine.
Sometimes I really can’t fucking believe it.
“How was your group?” She asks a bit breathless. Another thing I love about her. She always asks how the groups are. Every. Single. Time.
“I almost had a PTSD attack,” I tell her.
She raises herself up, propping her arms on my chest to look in my eyes. I see the concern in her sky blue eyes, the worry she has for me. “Do you know what the trigger was?”
