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A cavity that’s empty, thanks to Beau scooping out my heart, neatly and wholly, and keeping it for himself.
It’s gone.
I’m gone.
Reaching between us, I cup his erection through his jeans. He growls again, his kiss bruising, and I back us toward the bed. Caressing the bulge, I marvel at the thickness of it.
He’s this hard for me.
He feels this way because he wants me.
“Can I undress you?” he asks, breaking the kiss to run his nose up the side of my neck. My eyes, already shut, squeeze together even more tightly.
“Um.” My heart thumps in my chest at the idea of Beau seeing me. Seeing me, as vulnerable and unprepared as I’ve ever been for this act.
But I’m ready. My gut tells me if anyone can make me feel like a million bucks in bed, naked, it’s Beau.
I put my hand on his bare chest—the hair there feels wiry, coarse, the skin beneath a soft counterpoint—and push him onto the mattress.
His eyes stay on me as he falls back, landing with a soft shush on the cloud-like duvet. He looks laughably huge in my bed.
I love it.
Crossing my arms, I grab my shirt and pull it over my head. The sudden rush of cold air against my skin makes me break out in goose bumps.
Standing in front of Beau shirtless, I feel a little shy. I wore my prettiest nursing bra, but really, that’s the equivalent of the bright pink strap my orthodontist gave me to wear with my headgear back in fourth grade.
I remain frozen for one agonizing heartbeat, then another, wanting to recoil from Beau’s gaze but forcing myself to meet it head-on.
I realize I’m shaking.
He looks. And looks. Mouth parted, eyes unreadable.
“Say something,” I whisper.
But instead, he sits up and reaches for me, running a calloused hand up my side, reverent and firm. He may be a gazillionaire businessman, but his hands bear witness to the country boy he is at heart.
“I don’t want to hurt you again. Tell me how it feels, okay? Talk to me.”
“Okay. I’m learning, too. This—my body—it’s new to me all over again.”
The heat between my legs starts to throb. His hand stops just beneath my breast, the tips of his fingers whispering against the skin on my back as his thumb grazes the underside of my bra. He dips the blunt edge of his thumbnail inside, making my pulse spike.
“Can I?”
Like I could say no.
I nod, breathlessly watching his expression darken as he trails his thumb along the bottom seam of my bra. He traces a line of fire around my rib cage to my back, where he patiently unhooks my bra with fingers that brush against my skin. My spine. The bra loosens, and he guides the straps over my shoulders.
It falls to the floor. My boobs are softer than they used to be. Larger, but not in a sexy way.
Not that Beau seems to mind. He takes one breast in his hand and gently kneads it.
“I’ve been waiting forever,” he breathes. “For this. A chance to touch and kiss and worship you.”
Oh shit.
Oh shit that’s lovely.
The response I have to his words and his touch—arousal, sexual energy gathering in my nipple—is foreign and wonderful.
Empowering. I have control over my body. It’s mine. The physical miseries of new motherhood are as far away as the moon. Pleasure rises in their place, made sweeter by my abandon to the moment.
“Wow, that’s good.” I breathe.
He watches me with heavy-lidded eyes, gently plucking my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“I’ve heard horror stories,” I say. “About milk flying everywhere when breastfeeding women orgasm. Just so you know.”
Beau licks his lips. “As long as you orgasm, I couldn’t care less.”
“Cool.”
“Not cool.” He puts his other hand on the small of my back and pulls me to him, pressing a scruffy kiss to my belly. “Honey, you’re makin’ me lose my goddamn mind. And for once, that’s a good thing.”
I smile, running my hands through his hair. “I like the sound of that.”
He looks up at me. His eyes, the expression in them, heat and heart, makes my own heart turn over.
“Thank you,” he says.
Before I can ask him what he’s thanking me for, he’s taking my other nipple in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it, hot and slow, and I arch against him, feeling a sharp stab of pleasure in my core. His mouth moves to my chest, then my neck.
Wrapping his arms around my waist, Beau spreads his legs and pulls me between them, gathering my naked torso against his. The skin-to-skin contact is so sweet it makes my stomach twist.
I love this.
Love it.
Him hugging me, head buried in the crook of my neck. His breath feels warm on my skin, steady and deep. I curl my arms around his neck and hold him there.
