Page 10 of Valor
“What do you think?”
“It’s gorgeous. I can’t believe we’re here.” She turns to me and I’m struck by how incredibly lucky I am to have her, to have this time with her.
“Believe it,” I say, the words coming out gruff now that I realize I have her alone. All the need I felt when I had her in the shower returns full force. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted her more.
“What do you want to do now?” At the look on my face, she gives a little laugh. “Stupid question, huh?”
I draw closer and notice she’s shivering. “Cold?” I ask, and rub my hands over the gooseflesh peppering her arms.
“Nervous, if you can believe it.”
Pulling her to me, I say, “Nervous? About what?”
“Feels like that first night. I can’t remember the last time we were alone like this. I almost keep expecting one of the kids to knock on the door.” Her voice is breathy and she speaks at a fast clip. She really is nervous.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy having that effect on her. “There’s no one here but us, and I’ve got the rest of the night to enjoy you.”
“What do you want to do first?” she asks with a flirtatious grin.
“See you. If we’ve got all the time in the world, I’m going to make it last.” I guide her to the bed and arrange her in front of me like a feast.
The hem of her gown rucks up her legs, teasing me at the shadowed apex between them. I push the dress up and groan at the sight of her all wrapped up in lace, just for me. She lifts her arms for me to pull the dress the rest of the way off, and I grow hard at the lush, beautiful vision of her before me.
“Where to start first?” I say more to myself than to her.
“Please,” is all she says in return.
I’m in no hurry, so I lavish her skin with kisses. She can beg all she likes and there will be no one to hear her but me.
Chapter Five
Olivia
We’ve never hada problem in the bedroom. When the clothes come off and the day turns to night, it’s as though nothing has changed since that night of our first kiss. Everything we can’t manage to say to one another translates into sensation.
A stroke of his hand over the hardened tips of my breasts. The swipe of his tongue into the concave hollow of my bellybutton. The reverent adoration of my mangled stomach that held our children.
The thoughtful conversation I’ve been agonizing over for days simply melts away when he touches me. Yearning to be close to him, I tell myself I’ll bring it up in the morning. For now, I want to enjoy and forget everything else.
“Hurry,” I urge him, but either he doesn’t hear me or he ignores me as he kisses down to the juncture of my thighs.
The little scrap of lace I’d worn in a fit of courage puts up little defense as he wraps his two big fists in the material at my hips and tugs, reducing it to tatters.
“Ben!” I say in surprise.
He merely grins and there’s a wisp of the old Ben there that makes me want to weep. I reach down and finger the curve of his smile. His expression grows serious and he closes his eyes, pressing his face into my hand. My heart stumbles inside my chest.
This is the side of him no one else gets to see, but me. The soft side, the gentle, loving side. He’s an amazing father to our children. A loyal friend, a thoughtful son, and the hardest worker I’ve ever known. But I’m the only one he gazes at like he’s a man searching for penance and I’m his salvation. Swamped with emotion, I can only focus on my breathing so I don’t ruin the moment.
Then, he’s spreading my legs wide and placing them with exaggerated care over his shoulders, and there’s no time left for thinking.
I fist the sheets at my side and close my eyes, overwhelmed by the sensory input. The press of his fingers holds my hips to keep me from wriggling. The scrape of his beard along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. The brush of his tongue, the press of his lips, an intimate kiss that’s like kindling to the flame burning inside me.
It seems the more I have of him, the more I want.
“Be still, Spitfire. I’m busy here.”
I growl in the back of my throat. “I’d be still if you weren’t being such a tease.”