“Naomi.” He made her name sound like a prayer.
She took him deeper, filling herself with him. This was a way she could show her love. It was an exclusive expression. He’d done so much for her.
“Naomi.” He drew back, sliding out of her mouth making an intimate kissing sound. “Come here.” He’d tugged her to her feet before she had a chance to do so on her own and he was kissing her again.
“Will that help your imagination?” she teased against his lips.
* * *
Luke ached to know that he must leave her the next morning. They had so much more to say to one another. So much more to do. He’d wanted to finish the roof, have a few windows replaced…
He wanted to be the person to care for her up until the baby came. He didn’t care that it wasn’t his. It was hers and she was his. He’d be her child‘s father.
At the same time, he could hardly think for having just had her mouth on him.
There would come a time for talking but now was the time for loving. When he claimed her mouth, she tasted like sin. She tasted likehim.
Sunlight illuminated her golden mane as he removed the few pins that confined it. He buried his hands, threading the strands through his fingers and then drawing them forward to cradle her face.
Tears hovered on her lashes but she smiled. So beautiful. He touched his lips to her brow, memorizing her scent—and then he touched them to her cheek, memorizing the silken texture of her skin. And her lips. Plump, pink, soft, and easy to smile.
“I’ll dream of tasting you, of hearing your voice.”
She hummed in response.
He walked her backward toward the bed until her knees bent and she dropped onto the mattress. He was running out of time to make good on his promises.
“Open.” With her gaze locked on him, she eased her knees apart at his command. Luke dropped to the floor, a man intent on worship. He then pushed her chemise up and revealed the prettiest legs he’d ever seen. Pale, creamy, slim ankles gave way to tender calves, girlish knees, and finally, soft thighs. Unable to resist, he kissed a small dimple on the inside of one knee. Their love was brand new and yet time was running out.
“My sweet, sweet girl.” There were no other words. “This is only the beginning.” Hewouldcome home to her. He knew he couldn’t promise that. It would be tempting fate. “You’re mine now, Naomi Augustine.”
Luke grasped behind her calves and drew her to the edge of the bed just before he buried his face to claim the most intimate of kisses.
“Forever,” Naomi gasped, clutching the sides of his head. “You’re coming back to me damn you.”
He could only grin at this, thinking her demand was better than a promise. He’d not allow her to be disappointed again.
“Yes, Ma’am.” He rolled his tongue over delicate flesh, her excitement fueling his own.
“I’ll come backhere.” He licked. “Andhere.” He meant every word. When he slid his fingers inside, she groaned.
“Andhere.” He focused all his efforts on what she liked, on what she needed, on what she wanted, and when he rubbed his thumb just above her opening, there was no mistaking her completion. She arched her back and nearly strangled him with her knees. He loved it. He loved everything about her.
When the pulsing around his hand and face subsided, he eagerly climbed onto the bed. Now. Now he needed to be inside of her. He needed to touch as much of her as was humanly possible.
He’d been careful each night when joined with her. If she hadn’t been straddling him, he’d take her while they’d faced one another, laying side by side.
He’d rocked into her carefully.
He couldn’t cover her with his weight and the last thing he would ever do was cause her discomfort or pain, but he wanted to feel all of her against him.
This time, when she rolled onto her side, Luke drew her chemise up and over her head and then stretched out behind her. Ah, yes, this had been where he’d been interrupted upon his brother’s untimely appearance. Their time was growing short.
The scent of her filling his senses, he lifted her knee with one arm and guided himself into warm, wet heat from behind.
“Deeper.” Her voice came out both a plea and a command. Luke latched onto her shoulder with his mouth and thrust his hips forward, impaling her to the hilt.
Moving together, their lovemaking was the perfect symphony. He was the harmony to her melody, reaching a crescendo of hope but also fear. And magic. Together, they were magic. Luke held on to her for dear life as he released inside of her. Passion replaced thought. He only knew taste, touch, smell, and the sounds of her crying out his name.
