I yank the jacket from his broad shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a forgotten heap.
Emboldened, my hands go to the hem of his black T-shirt.He lifts his arms in a silent invitation, and I pull it over his head in one swift motion, tossing it aside.
My breath falters at the sight of his bare chest.
Planes of muscle carved by the moonlight.
Slowly, reverently, my hands map his abdomen, feeling the tight ripple of muscle, the soft dusting of hair that trails downward.My fingers trace the ridges of his ribs, learn the curve of his shoulders, the strength in his biceps.His breath hitches.But he stands perfectly still under my exploration, his hands gripping my hips, thumbs stroking lightly, igniting a slow burn deep in my veins.
My fingers glide lower but falter at the cold metal of his belt buckle.A sudden flicker of nervousness, of the sheer magnitude of this moment, makes my touch unsteady.
My hands retreat to his chest.
Instantly, his own hands cover mine, stilling their tremor.Gently, he guides them back down, pressing my fingertips against the solid buckle.
He leans in, his lips brushing my ear.“All yours, love.”
And it shatters the last of my reservations.
My fingers, steadier now, close around the cool metal of his belt buckle and pull the leather free.I lift my gaze to meet his.His eyes are dark, almost black with desire, tracking my every move as his breathing grows harsh.My hands move to the button of his jeans, fingertips brushing the zipper, and I hesitate.A silent question in my eyes.He gives the barest nod, his jaw tight.
I draw the zipper down slowly.The rasp of metal teeth is loud in the charged quiet.
The rough denim gives way.
My hands grip the waistband and I push the heavy jeans down over his lean hips and powerful thighs.He helps, kicking them free until he stands before me in nothing but black boxer briefs.
The sight of him…
So beautifully sculpted.
So utterly exposed.
So intensely focused on me.
Matthew reaches out and takes my hand, drawing me forward to the edge of his large bed.He sits, his thighs flexing, and pulls me into the space between his parted legs.He looks up at me.His eyes are still dark with desire, but a profound tenderness now softens their edges.Unable to resist, my hands lift to his face.My fingers trace the strong line of his jaw, the slight roughness of his stubble, the curve of his lips…
He leans into my touch, eyes fluttering shut for a heartbeat.When they reopen, they lock on mine as he pulls me that last inch closer.
His fingers find the deep neckline of my dress, gently parting the fabric above the golden wings at my waist.My breath hitches when he presses his lips to the bare skin of my stomach.A soft gasp escapes me, my head falling back as my fingers comb through his hair.
His hands glide from my waist, slipping with tantalizing slowness under the hem of my dress.My heart stutters as his warm palms begin a slow, caressing journey up my thighs.At the same time, his lips begin their own ascent, kissing a searing path up the center of my torso, following the neckline higher as he rises from the bed to meet my height.
I stand flush against him as his mouth explores the skin between my breasts and his fingers find the small zipper at my back.It glides down.He finds the single button of the halter strap at the nape of my neck and deftly releases it.His fingers then move to my bun, pulling the pins free one by one until my hair cascades down my back.
With infinite care, he hooks his fingers in the loosened neckline and eases the fabric down my body.The dress slides over my waist, my hips, pooling in a soft black puddle at my feet.His eyes soften as they roam over me with awe and profound recognition.He steps closer, so close I am enveloped in his solid warmth, his eyes searching mine with an unwavering devotion.His knuckles gently graze my cheek, his thumb sliding down to trace the line of my jaw so softly it makes me shiver.
“Amy…” His gaze holds mine.“There you are,” he whispers, his voice husky with an emotion that resonates through every fiber of my being.
Those words.
They pierce the haze of desire, striking the very core.They unlock a flood of emotion so potent it nearly brings me to my knees.It’s the same gentle wonder, the same profound acceptance, from the night when he saw me remove my wig.
Tears, hot and immediate, well in my eyes, blurring his beloved face.A sob catches in my throat.The sound of being truly seen.Truly wanted.In a way I never believed was possible.
Matthew’s expression melts at the sight of my tears.His hands come up to cup my face, his thumbs tenderly wiping away the tracks on my cheeks.My head tilts up, and my eyes flutter closed.
His thumbs continue their gentle sweep before his lips press a feather-light kiss to one closed eyelid, then the other.Each touch is a reverent benediction.A silent promise that sinks deep into my soul, soothing the raw edges of my heart.
