I gasp softly as the rip cuts through the quiet room. Cool air brushes my skin where the dress has split. For a moment he freezes, his hand still gripping the torn fabric.
“I didn’t mean—” he starts, breathing unevenly. His eyes flick down to the rip, then back to me. A crooked smile slowly appears. “Actually…” he murmurs, shaking his head slightly. “That’s a lie.” His thumb brushes the torn seam at my hip. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”
My heartbeat stumbles. “All night?” I whisper.
His gaze moves over me slowly, taking in the ruined dress, the way the red fabric slips slightly from my shoulder. “You walked out wearing this,” he says quietly. “And I’ve been trying to behave like a decent husband ever since.”
I step closer, sliding my hand up his chest until my fingers curl around his collar. “And how’s that working out for you?” I murmur.
His hands tighten at my waist, pulling me flush against him. “Terribly.”
So I kiss him again. This time he doesn’t hesitate. His mouth finds mine with a deep, familiar hunger, the kind that only comes from years of knowing someone completely. The red fabric rustles softly as it slides further against my skin, forgotten completely.
And neither of us seems to care.
“Come here,” he murmurs.
Before I can say anything, we are already down the hallway. His grip is warm and firm, his steps quick like he’s been waiting far too long for this moment. The bedroom door barely has time to close before he turns back to me. In one swift motion, he lifts me and tosses me onto the bed. I land against the soft mattress with a surprised laugh as I fall back against the pillows.
He stands at the edge of the bed for half a second, breathing hard, running a hand through his hair as if trying and failing to gather himself. His eyes never left mine, gaze only broken by curtains of clothes flying between us. When he dropped his boxer briefs, my mouth hung open at the sight of him and I swallowed.
Then he climbs over me. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he says quietly.
I raise an eyebrow, breath still uneven. “After all this time?”
A slow smile spreads across his face as he leans down, one hand bracing beside my head. “Especially after all this time.”
Then his lips find mine again. And then, with the slow steadiness of an expert, Dominic filled me, and we tumbled into hell together. We both gasped, open mouths against each other, my hands on his neck and his forearms braced on either side of me. He withdrew even slower before pushing in again, this time hitting deeper than before.
“Era…” He’s moving just a little faster. I felt each thrust through the movements of his thighs, his back, his shoulders, and I wrapped my legs around him tighter. I felt every inch of my body catch fire as I drained him. Dominic took his time, his lips moving slowly over my skin, exploring me with the quiet confidence of someone who knew my body by heart.
I came first, tightening around him and fisting the edge of the blanket. He followed closely, and I nearly lost myself again at the sound of my name on his lips as he fell apart. He held me close while the world slowly settled back around us. He was still inside me, and he kissed me softly, his eyes lingering on mine. When everything finally grew quiet, he pulled me close against his chest.
Neither of us spoke for a while. His fingers traced slow, lazy patterns along my arm as the rush of the moment softened into something calmer, deeper.
And for a moment, it felt like nothing else existed.
***
Morning light slips through the curtains in thin golden lines when I wake. For a moment I don’t move. Dominic’s arm is still draped across my waist, warm and heavy, his breathing slow against the back of my neck.
Then—
Buzz.
The vibration slices through the quiet room. Dominic’s phone lights up on the nightstand. I glance at it and a message flashes across the screen.
Sophie: Meet you there.
My stomach tightens.
Carefully, so I don’t wake him, I reach over and pick up the phone. The screen glows softly in the dim room, the message sitting there like it’s waiting for me to read it again.
Meet you there.
I press the screen. The phone asks for a password. Of course it does. For a second I just stare at it. I’ve never been the kind of wife who checks her husband’s phone. I’ve always believed that trust means not needing to look. Before I can think any further, Dominic shifts beside me and I quickly place the phone back on the nightstand, pretending I never touched it.
His arm tightens around me as he wakes, pulling me closer. “Morning,” he murmurs, his voice still rough with sleep. Then he presses a slow kiss against my shoulder. “We’ve got time before we have to leave,” he says, his lips brushing my skin again. His hand slides lazily along my waist, pulling me closer.
