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I grasp her chin with my other hand and turn her head so that I can capture her lips with mine. In this moment, she’s mine. Mine and mine alone. No one else has touched her like this. Has made her shiver or moan. Has made her arch against them.
She’s mine.
I know it’s just the heat of the moment, the animalistic desire that surfaces any time I think of her being untouched. Still, I temper my approach just enough so that I don’t slide too deep.
I lightly caress her bare stomach, my fingers inching higher until they’re just beneath the band of her sports bra. I wait for a moment, give her space to tell me no.
Then continue higher when she murmurs her discontent at my lack of progress.
I slide my fingers beneath the material, feel my body tense as the weight of one bare breast brushes my skin. A shudder passes through me. I break our kiss long enough to grab the band of her bra and pull the material up and over her head.
Leaving her topless in front of me.
Our eyes meet in the mirror. She’s so damned beautiful it hurts. Eyes wide, lips parted and swollen. Firm, supple breasts bare to my gaze. Long strands of her honey-blond hair slipping from her ponytail, giving her a wild, untamed look as uncertainty flickers over her face.
I watch us in the mirror as my hands come around and gently cup her breasts. The nervousness disappears as her head falls back against my shoulder and she moans, leaning into my touch. I lightly drag my thumbs across her dark nipples. Nearly lose my control as they harden into peaks beneath my gentle strokes.
“Rafe,” she moans, pushing her breasts into my hands as she presses her hips back against my groin.
I band one arm just below her breasts and give into temptation, letting my other hand drift down to her waist. I tease a finger along the waistband of her shorts. She freezes, her breath coming fast and short as she watches me, her eyes fixated on my hand as I slide down her stomach. My fingers graze lace.
And then there’s nothing but her. Hot, wet silk against my skin as she shudders in my arms and moans my name. I tease her with light caresses and gentle touches. Savor each and every noise she makes, smiling as she tries to press harder against my hand.
I drag it out as long as I can. Until the torture becomes too much for both of us.
I lean back, keeping her pressed against me. God, she spreads her legs for me with such trusting innocence it nearly undoes me. Doubt stabs through the haze of my lust. What right do I have to touch her? To take her like this when I can offer her nothing but pleasure? It’s never mattered before.
But it matters with her.
“Rafe?”
I shove my uncertainties aside. “Tell me if it hurts.”
She nods, slowly but without hesitation. The trust she places in me shakes me, heightens my senses as I slide one finger inside her. Her breath rushes out as her body clenches down on me. It only takes a few strokes before the thrust of her hips becomes faster, more frenetic.
“Rafe…I…”
“Just let go.” I kiss her neck, her cheek, graze my teeth across the shell of her ear. “Let go, Tessa.”
She listens. A moment later she peaks, coming apart in my arms.
Her eyes drift shut as she sags against me. I stare at our reflection in the mirror. Tessa, the woman I once thought of as a haunted shadow, lying half naked in my arms with a smile of contentment on her face. Me, sitting on a weight bench holding my wife like I never want to let her go.
Except I’ll have to. I’ll have to release her to find her own happiness in the world. With someone else.
My arm tightens around her waist. I need to take a step back from this, from our so-called “lessons.” Regain my equilibrium and remind myself that while there’s a certain level of affection to be expected, I can’t be courting disaster by getting emotionally involved with Tessa.
Tomorrow, I tell myself as I give in to the urge to press a kiss to her hair. Tomorrow I’ll step back. For both our sakes.
But right now, I’m going to savor the unexpected pleasure of holding my wife.
CHAPTER TEN
Tessa
ISLOWLY WAKE UP,blinking through the grogginess that’s clinging to me even after a decent night’s sleep. The price to pay, I suppose, for finally having my first non-self-induced orgasm.
I stretch my arms overhead and smile. My doctor told me there might be a possibility of not having complete sensation. I wasn’t sure what to expect. But Rafe made it so easy to trust him, touching me, making love to me with his mouth and fingers. The sight of him watching in the mirror, his blue eyes on fire as he brought me to a level of pleasure I’d never experienced, had sent me not only to new heights of desire, but new levels of confidence as a woman.