Breathing together.
Feeling the quiet peace that comes with finally having the person you’ve loved for years right where they belong.
Then she looks up at me again, a nervous smile tugging at her lips.
“Okay,” she says softly. “What do we do next, husband?”
I brush my thumb across her cheek.
“You just lie there,” I tell her. “And let me worship this beautiful body.”
Not waiting for a response, I start doing exactly that.
I kiss along her cheek and down her jaw until I reach her neck. Slow kisses turn to gentle nibbles as I search for the spot that will drive her crazy.
When I find it, her whole body shivers beneath me.
There it is. The place where her neck meets her shoulder.
Being the caveman that I am, I kiss the spot softly, trace it with my tongue… then give it the smallest bite.
Her breath hitches, and my chest expands.
My baby likes a little bite.
Good to know.
Watching her carefully, I start unbuttoning her silk shirt while I soothe the spot on her shoulder with a slow kiss.
When the shirt opens, my hand drifts over her soft skin, her warm stomach, the gentle curve of her waist, the fullness of her chest.
I pause for a moment, just feeling her.
Deciding I need a taste, I lean down and press a kiss to the nearest nipple. Abigail gasps softly, her fingers tightening against my shoulders.
Every reaction she gives me feels like a victory.
But my focus isn’t on me. It’s completely and fully on her.
I refuse to bring up what happened to her before and risk putting that memory back in her head, but I also won’t do anything that could scare her.
So I watch her.
Every breath.
Every movement.
Every tiny reaction.
And damn if she isn’t responsive.
When I move lower and reach her stomach, she flinches, and I immediately stop.
Waiting.
She looks down at me and giggles.
“Tickles.”
