The rest of the buttons gave up the battle without a fight. Cool air breezed over her abdomen.
“Save convincing me of that for tomorrow.”
“Count on it.” The breeze was followed by the gentleness of his touch. “So what are you going to do now?”
He rolled them both over until he was looming above her, a dark shadow in the darker night. “I don’t know what the rest of the world is going to do, but I’m going to make love to my wife.”
The lighthearted statement betrayed a thread of strain. Flattening her palms over his chest, Evie felt the beat of Brad’s heart, the warmth of his skin, the tension that shouldn’t be there. Was it because he regretted being married now that Brenda was back in his life? She swallowed hard and the tears that always seemed so close to the surface the last few days perked again. She wanted to be more to him than one more undeserved punishment in his life. “If you want her, we can probably still end the marriage.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished them back. She didn’t care how he felt. She didn’t want to lose him.
“That’s generous of you.”
She sniffed. “Well, take me up on it quick because I’m changing my mind as we speak.
He chuckled. Actually chuckled while she was lying there so exposed she didn’t know how much longer she could bear it. Balling her hand up in a fist, she swung. As always, he was faster, stronger. He caught the blow, wrapped his much bigger hand around it, and pushed back until his hand pressed hers over her heart, following it down until his forehead touched hers and their breaths blended one into the other. “I already have all I could I want.”
She wanted to believe that, she just couldn’t. “You loved her.”
“As a boy and as a sister.”
She bit her lip and pressed on, driven by the devil that couldn’t stand the nag of doubt. “And me?”
“I’ll never let you go unless you want to leave.”
It wasn’t a declaration of love, but for Brad, she got the feeling it was very close. For sure her heart didn’t hear a difference. “So I don’t have to worry about her?”
“You don’t have to worry about anyone.”
Except him. She worried about him. Worried about his reckless streak, worried about the qualification he put on his declaration. She’d had a glimpse into his childhood. A man growing up like that would bear as many scars on the inside as he wore on the outside. Maybe need more reassurance than others.
“I won’t leave you.”
“I don’t need promises, sweetheart.”
He needed promises more than any man she’d ever met. Deserved them more. She couldn’t find the words to say what she wanted and the moment passed, fading under the distraction of his kiss. She loved his kiss.
“Now, come here. We’re running out of time.”
“It’s still dark out. How much time do you need?”
“A hell of a lot more than I’ve got.”
His thigh insinuated its way between hers, the coarse hair catching on her sensitive skin. Little sparks of delight danced over her flesh. There was a roughness to his moves, an earthy sensuality to his touch on the inside of her thigh as he made a place for himself that spoke of purpose. Whatever was bothering him, he wanted to forget it. With her. She slid her hands up over his shoulders, glorying in the strength she found there. She could give him that. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good.”
His hand fisted in her hair, pulling her head back, arching her neck to the press of his lips. This wasn’t the considerate caress he normally gave her. This wasn’t the controlled lover she was used to receiving. This was a man indulging his wild side, a husband expressing his need for his wife. She arched her neck into his kiss, taking the hard press of his lips with a feeling of exultation, the nip of his teeth with a wild excitement, meeting his growl of satisfaction with a whimper of desire as everything elemental inside her responded to his primitive call. Hooking her ankles over the backs of his calves she dragged them up, taking her nightgown up with the same smooth motion, exposing herself, making herself vulnerable to him. Brad accepted the gift with a sigh and a shift that pressed his cock into her soft flesh.
“Oh, yes.” She arched up, encouraging more of the same. Nothing was ever as good as the feel of Brad against her—hard, male, potent. She dug her fingers into the back of his neck, her leg around his hips, pulling him to her so she could whisper in his ear, “Have I ever mentioned I like you wild?”
“No, but I’ve noticed a tendency in that direction.”
“Want to encourage it?”
This time his laugh was genuine and she relished it as much as she relished her ability to give it to him.
“Absolutely.”
It was her turn to say “good.” Reaching down, she gathered up the hem of her gown, dragging it over her head with a smile she wasn’t sure he could see. She tossed it aside. “Because I don’t feel like holding back either.”
For a brief instant his chest pressed against her breasts, the rough mat of hair abrading her nipples deliciously as he absorbed her new brazenness. Then he exhaled and she felt his smile against her cheek. “Let’s light the lamp then, and do it right.”
Right. Yes, she wanted to do this right.
His chest slid across hers as he reached for the bed stand. There was wood whispering against wood, the rasp of a sulfur, and then a flare of wavering light that cast his expression in dancing shadow. If she had any sense, the passion carving his features in stone would scare her. Instead a wild burst of excitement flooded through her.
“Lift up the mantle.”
Reaching over with her left hand, she did, holding his gaze the whole time, not flinching away when his eyes darkened further and narrowed in purely primitive male response. This was Brad, her husband, the man who accepted her as she was. The one man with whom she could be herself. More than ever, she wanted to see just who she could be within the freedom of his care.
The oil lamp flickered, the flame starting out hesitant before growing bolder, a visual echo of her own determination. She’d waited her whole life for this moment with this man, for him to come to her with no barriers between them, no expectations, no rules, nothing but elemental desire. The moment was here now. She wasn’t going to waste it, didn’t want to forget a moment of it. She memorized his face, the way it looked right now, knowing even as she did that she wouldn’t re-create it. Some things were too private to be shared, too private to risk exposing to others.
Brad blew out the match, kneeling above her like a pagan god, muscles thrown into sharp relief, his shoulders looking impossibly broad, the smile on his face wicked. This was the man she’d known lurked beneath the facade. The man she’d always wanted to see.
“I love you.” The words just slipped out. Brad froze above her. For an awful moment she thought she’d been too honest. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
His hand covered her mouth. The hunger in his gaze burned hotter, the edge to the emotion surrounding them grew sharper. “Don’t take it back.”
She’d been going to say that she shouldn’t have just blurted that out. Kissing his palm, she pushed his hand away, holding his gaze, feeling as though she were dangling off the tip of a very skinny branch. “I don’t want to take it back.”
She just wanted him to say it back.
“Not many would say I’m lovable.”
She would have thought it a strange response—a strange thing to say—if she hadn’t had that glimpse into his childhood, but now that she understood, it just made her want to hold him tighter.
“Then I’m unique,” she breathed as his big hand closed around her breast.
“Very unique.”
Because she needed something to hold on to, she asked, “Good unique?”
His smile was positively wicked as he thumbed her nipples, keeping her pinned with his hips when she would have arched up, teasing her with another pass, and then another, pinching the engorged tips into bright red little berries that begged for more. This was everything she needed, everything she wanted. Her heart melted as he answered in his low drawl, “The best.”
It still wasn’t enough. “The only one for you?”
Again that curious stillness, and then he leaned down, his lips brushing her nose, her lips, kissing her eyes closed. “The only one I’ll have for the rest of my life.”
She opened her eyes, finding him looking back, his gaze as solemn as his voice. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was brutally honest and it came from the heart. And for now, it was enough.
She placed her palms on his knees and slid them up his heavily muscled thighs, stretching her thumbs inward until they touched the sides of his penis, pressing in with her nails the tiniest bit, holding him hostage.
His head cocked to the side. “Not even a little bit scared?”
Of him? Never. She gave him her most seductive smile. “No, but I’m feeling a whole lot wild.”
The right side of his mouth hitched up. “Lucky me.”
“Yes, I think you are.”
It was just a slight adjustment to capture his cock between her palms, the slightest pressure to bring a catch to his breath.
“Feeling confident?”
“Yes, but I could use some instruction.”
“In what?”
The time for hiding had long since passed. “I want to please you tonight. Will you let me?”
His right eyebrow cocked up. Her pussy clenched in want. The man was too sexy for words when he looked at her like that. “Do I have a choice?”
Squeezing gently she admitted, “You could easily overpower me.”
“Do you want me to?”
A tingle went down her spine, imagining the possibilities. “Not tonight.” Tonight she needed to show him how she felt, what he meant to her.
“Then we’ll save that for another time.”
She squeezed his cock again, enjoying the way it jumped at her touch, swelled, hardened. A drop of pre-come beaded the tip.
“Now stroke it slowly, evenly.”
As she did, he watched every movement, every nuance of her expression. Every flicker of hunger as she drew his shaft down toward her mouth. And she watched back, his passion feeding hers.
“Do you want my cock, Evie?”
She nodded, fascinated, as gravity pulled that bead into a droplet. She caught it on her thumb, bringing it to her mouth, holding his gaze as she curled her tongue around her finger, savoring his essence. “I want it all.”
He skimmed his cock up her body, his balls sliding in a satin caress up her stomach. From this angle his cock looked huge, the veins engorged, the flesh tinted with his hunger. The hunger she inspired. The hunger he promised to hold only for her. He hitched up a little farther, his knees bumping her arms, his balls snuggling into the valley between her breasts. A warm, soft, potent weight. It was natural to kiss the base of his cock, natural that he moaned as she tasted him, once, twice, three times.
His palms slammed flat against the wall above her head, the echo driving her smile as he knelt there, letting her pleasure him with her mouth for a few minutes, in a limited way, before he reached down and circled his cock with his fist, filling her vision with an impression of strength on strength. He backed up just a little, just enough that the fat crown brushed her lips. She opened her mouth, curling her tongue around the tip, taking in his essence, encouraging him with rapid darts of her tongue to give her more.
He accepted the invitation with a soft groan, making love to her mouth the way he made love to her body, gently at first, letting her get used to the feel, his size, his need.
“Damn, that’s good.”
It was, intoxicatingly so—her pleasure connected to his, her desire to his. He transferred his grip to her hair, tipping her head back as he slid in and out in shallow thrusts, only giving her so much control, dominating her body with his. “Suck me, Evie, just like that, soft and sweet. Make us both feel good.”
It was thrilling—a natural give-and-take—and she loved him for it. His cock slid deeper. She sucked harder, working her tongue along the surface, arching up to take more of his cock, reaching up to capture his nipples. Remembering what he did to her, she started out slowly, pinching and rubbing, taking her cue from the way his cock slid in and out of her mouth as to how much pressure to apply. His cock grew rock hard. Her caresses grew more deliberate as his hips pumped faster.
“Evie, I can’t hold back.”
She didn’t want him to. She wanted to please him the way he pleased her—to the bone.
“Evie . . .”
Shaking her head, she switched her grip to his buttocks, holding him closer as she took him that tiny bit deeper.
“Ah hell.” Brad cupped her face in his hands, binding them together as he came, his fingers stroking her cheeks tenderly as his pleasure washed over her in erotic pulses. Taking all he gave her, suckling him gently after the last throb of his climax faded, a different kind of satisfaction smoothed over the restlessness of her own unfulfilled desire. He shuddered one last time. Still cradling her face in his hands, Brad eased his cock from her mouth.
“You all right?”
She nodded. His thumbs pressed gently. He frowned, his lips parting. She held her breath, waiting for the words she craved. With a shake of his head, he lay down beside her and pulled her against him. The kiss he placed on her temple was gentle. His hands brushed her cheek, her side, stroking her as if he didn’t want the moment to end. As if for him, too, the interlude had been more than sex. He smoothed his finger over the corner of her mouth, catching the moisture there, spreading it along the inside of her lips, branding her again, the way he always did, almost as if he didn’t believe a wedding ring was enough to keep her with him.
Catching his hand, she brought it to her lips, driven by instinct to repeat the vow. “I love you.”
And still he kept touching her until, finally, he rolled onto his back, dragging her with him with a hand curved around her neck and her hip.