“Yes,” I whisper, my voice husky.
I don’t even care that it’s my own rule I’m breaking as I throw my arms around his neck and press myself tight against him. I catch a flicker of emotion in his eyes and then he lowers his lips to mine. He kisses me in no hurry at all, like we’ve got all the time in the world. He’s never kissed me like this before. Deep, soft, slow. Heat spreads through me from head to toe, my insides turning to liquid.
This issomething.
I think this is the first time in my life I actually understand the meaning of the wordswoon.
I’d expected his usual method of attack—the kind of hungry, fiery, aggressive kiss that feels like being eaten alive, that makes my adrenaline rush and my pussy ache—but this…this is a sweetness I feel all the way to my soul. I revel in it, returning his kiss in kind, moaning softly into his mouth, encouraging him. Armani holds me close, robbing my breath, making my heart beat faster. I know I shouldn’t be doing this. Letting him draw me back into his orbit, my defenses down. But I can’t help it.
This is exactly what I want, exactly where I want to be.
Maybe I need him, too.
My hands roam over his shoulders, down his chest, and then I start unbuttoning his shirt. Once I finish with the last button, Armani shrugs out of the shirt and drops it to the floor. Then he gently pushes me down onto the bed and climbs over me, never breaking the kiss.
I moan happily as I trace the lines of muscle along his back and waist. When I reach for the bulge in the front of his pants, he rolls onto his side to unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly, managing to kick off his pants without leaving the bed. Then he resumes kissing me as if it’s the very air he needs to breathe.
My lips are swollen and I’m kiss-drunk by the time he breaks away to trail his hot mouth along my body. Pulling my chemise down as he goes, he kisses his way from my neck to my chest, down my torso, teasing over my hip bones. But still, he moves slowly and patiently, with purpose but no urgency. It’s intoxicating. I’m writhing on the bed, my fingers lacing through his hair.
“Armani,” I groan.
He bites my hip softly and then looks up at me.
“More?” he asks.
I nod, and he tugs my nightdress all the way off. Then he positions himself between my legs, pushing my thighs apart. I let out a gasp as his warm breath tickles my slick lower lips. Desire thumps through me, my thighs tremble, and I can hardly stay still as anticipation thrums in my veins.
The first brush of his tongue against my slit has me moaning, toes curling, hands fisting the blankets beneath me. It only gets more intense from there. Our eyes meet again and he doesn’t break our gaze as he uses his mouth to please me like only he knows how. It’s magic, the way he draws every delicious spark of pleasure out of me. Taking his time, feasting on me, teasing me in cycles and waves like the tide rolling toward release.
I feel the pressure build and recede, build and recede, all the while chasing the high, rocking my hips along with the sensations. It’s so good that I know I can’t hold out, so I don’t even try. Within minutes, my orgasm crests and then pulses in gentle ripples, deep inside me.
“Oh God, Armani,” I whisper, riding his face. “Oh my God,yes.”
Shivering, I pull away a little and draw his face up to mine for another kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue, and it somehow makes me feel even more tender toward him. My climax endures, the contractions soft but lasting, lasting, lasting. It’s amazing and new, something I’ve never experienced. A soothing kind of release, relaxing me even as it shatters me and puts me back together all at once.
“I can’t stop coming,” I tell him.
He laughs. “You’re beautiful.”
“No, you are,” I say.
We kiss again and he adjusts his hips, the tip of his cock pressing against my wet opening. All I want is for him to pound into me, but he holds back, focusing on our kiss. It’s maddening.
Unable to wait any longer, and practically squirming, I lift my hips to encourage him. He seems to get the message, drawing my left leg up and around his waist so my foot rests against his lower back. Finally he enters me in one smooth thrust, dragging a fresh moan out of both of us.
“Yes,” I groan as he takes my lips in another kiss. “Mmm.”
He pumps in a rhythm that’s gentle and regular, all the motion in his hips, allowing me to feel every inch of him as he grinds against me. This isn’t how he usually fucks me, but it’s incredible. A key aligning perfectly with its lock. No one will ever fit me the way he does.
Still, I’m not sure what to do with this softer version of my husband. I feel good, better than good, but I want—I crave—the other side of him. The one that takes no shit, that seeks revenge, that won’t hesitate to make things right with his own two hands. The dominant man who people know better than to cross. I want my alpha male in the bedroom. Ihaveto have it.
“Armani,” I gasp. “I need—”
He thrusts a little harder and I moan around what I was going to say. His fingers slide into my hair and I wait for the blessed sting of him taking a fistful. He doesn’t.
“Armani,” I try again. “I need…more.”
A growl works from deep in his throat. “More what?”
