I choke on my tongue trying to get an answer out. Before I can toss him the pillow, I decide to hell with it. “Sam, come on up here. It’s a king-size bed; we can both fit comfortably.”
He sits up straight, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”he asks, trying to hide his eagerness. “I’m happy to just be under the same roof with you tonight.”
This man …
“I’m sure.” I scoot over to the other side and watch him climb the ladder, muscles flexing as he pulls himself up. I toss the blanket up to make room for him. He crawls in, being careful not to touch me.
I hate this distance between us, but I appreciate that he isn’t pushing. Another loud strike of lightning hits right outside the window, and the thunder booms.
I instinctively reach for Sam, heart pounding.
“I got you. I promise you’re safe. Just sleep, baby, I’ll be right here,” he promises.
I curl on my side, and Sam moves to follow, cradling my body with his as he has done so many nights before. I shift closer, curling into his warmth. But I can’t ignore the hard press of his arousal against my back. I freeze.
“Ignore it. I don’t expect anything. This? Just holding you? If this is all I get forever, I would die a happy man,” he responds with our wedding song quote.
God. My traitorous heart is melting. My body too. I squirm slightly.
He groans. “Baby, you need to stop that. I’m only human. You can’t expect herculean willpower from me when I finally have the woman of my dreams back in my arms.”
I quickly still. As I lay there, listening to the storm and feeling him behind me, I feel safe in his familiar arms. Another feeling creeps in, dangerous. Because this is how it happens, how I forget—I should pull away, put the distance I need to keep my walls up. But I don’t.
Do I want to keep my walls fully constructed?
I realize something, Sam has been the only one trying torepair the damage in our marriage. If I want us to work, I need to show up too, take a chance.
My heart pounds with the decision I am about to make. Before I can stop myself, I reach behind me and slowly start stroking his length.
He lets out a groan as he reaches for my hand, squeezing it tighter.
“One chance, tell me now if you want me to stop,” Sam begs, sounding like a desperate man.
And for the first time, I don’t hesitate. “Don’t stop, Sam.”
Before my next thought, he’s on me. Sam’s mouth claims mine, hot and urgent, kissing me like he’s starving. I match him beat for beat, hands desperate, breath tangled. He sits up suddenly, positioning his body on top of me.
“I need to taste you, baby, it has been too damn long. Tell me to stop, because I won’t if you don’t,” he says huskily.
I moan out an emphatic “Yes,” and he starts pulling my sleep shorts down.
With a groan of his own, Sam can’t take his eyes off my naked core.
“Damn, baby, I need to see you better.”
He grabs a pillow to props under my hips and spreads my legs, knees bent wide. Then he grabs the flameless candles and settles them on the inside of my legs.
“It’s like my own candlelit dinner.”
As I begin to flush with embarrassment, he starts trailing kisses down my leg slowly, teasingly.
I should laugh, but I don’t. Because the way he’s looking at me makes it impossible to think about anything else.
“Sam,” I groan, moving my hips to bring him closer to where I want him.
He stops kissing me and grabs my hips, holding me in place. “Stay still,” he says it in a commanding voice thatsends shivers through my body and makes me instantly obey. “You made me a feast and I’m going to enjoy it how I want.”
I start to laugh at him, but then he continues his slow, leisurely kisses to my center. By the time he gets to where I need him, I’m a wanton mess. His tongue strokes me from the bottom of my lips, then circles my clit, slowly. My hips pop up instantly, demanding more.
