An involuntary shiver ripples through me. “Dante.”
“I’m here now.” He picks up his pace, keeping me trapped beneath him. “That’s what matters.”
Oh, God. Yes. That’s all that matters as I wrap my legs around his hips, trying to draw him deeper.
He claims my lips again, robbing me of all thoughts with a kiss that I feel in the cold places of my heart and the empty spaces of my soul.
As if sensing the exact moment of my surrender, he lets my wrists go and holds himself up on one arm while slipping his free hand between our bodies to press a thumb on my oversensitive clit. He runs the calloused pad in circles over my swollen flesh as he ups his rhythm and deepens his strokes.
We go over together, lost in a daze of lust and the sweetness of the moment. And I want to believe that this is all that matters—that he’s here with me, in my arms. Inside me. Riding out his pleasure. That forgotten memories don’t count.
Not ready to let him go, I keep my ankles locked behind his ass. He used a condom because his cum isn’t leaking down my thighs. I can smell the faint scent of the lubricated rubber. He must’ve rolled it on before he’d gotten into bed. Knowing that he knew exactly what he was planning when he fitted that condom before slipping between the sheets sends a wave of satisfying heat to my belly.
He wanted me. He still desires me. He thought about me when he came home. Maybe he imagined how he wanted to wake me up while he was still on his way.
Staying inside me, he rolls us over so that I’m lying on his chest. The gesture is sweet. He wants to maintain our contact but is making sure he doesn’t crush me under his weight.
I press my cheek on his chest, allowing the strong, steady beat of his heart to reassure me. We’re quiet as he strokes my hair. The moment is peaceful. Until the door is flung open so hard that it bangs against the wall.
I give a start. Dante acts fast, reversing our positions so that he’s covering me even though he’s the one who’s naked. I’m still wearing my nightdress.
“Daddy!” Noah comes bouncing into the room. “You’re back!”
Suppressing a giggle, I make sure the covers are pulled up to Dante’s waist. He rolls off me just in time because Noah is already clambering up the bed. Our son is wearing a shirt and a pair of chinos that resemble the clothes Dante wears when he doesn’t go into the office. Noah always wants to dress like his dad, so in my absence, Jazz took him clothes shopping to cheer him up. She told me Dante gave her his credit card and told her to spend as much as she liked.
Noah makes his cross face. “You weren’t here for breakfast.”
Dante moves up to the headboard, taking the covers with him. “That will happen from time to time, big man. Sometimes, I have to go away for work.”
I sit up too, attacked by a sudden bout of guilt. “Have you been awake for long?”
Noah nods. “Emily made me scrambled eggs.”
“I’m sorry.” The wine must be the reason that I slept so late. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Noah makes big eyes. “Emily said I shouldn’t wake you. She said you needed to rest.”
I wrap my arms around his small body and pull him closer. “You can always wake me up.”
“Emily was right,” Dante says. “You obviously needed the sleep, my darling.”
“She said she didn’t mind looking after me,” Noah pipes in. “She said she likes it when I talk to her.”
“You should make use of her offer to keep an eye on Noah,” Dante says. “You may as well accept her help while she’s here.”
“All right, you two.” I smile. “Don’t make it seem as if I’m not capable of doing my motherly and wifely duties.”
“Never,” Dante says with a glint in his eyes.
As if I haven’t just drowned in his serious gaze so full of frenzied passion and possessive heat a moment ago, I get lost in his eyes all over again. I almost forget where we are and about everything else until Noah bounces on the bed.
“Can we make pancakes, Daddy?”
Dante mock-wrestles him. “I thought you already had breakfast.”
My heart melts as I watch them play. Dante looks like a god sculpted from granite with his broad chest, strong arms, and well-defined muscles. Noah takes so much after him. Every day, their resemblance grows stronger. Our son is going to be a looker when he’s grown up.
What more can I want when I have the two men I love most in the world with me? This, right here, is what happiness is.
