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Breathing together.

Feeling the quiet peace that comes with finally having the person you’ve loved for years right where they belong.

Then she looks up at me again, a nervous smile tugging at her lips.

“Okay,” she says softly. “What do we do next, husband?”

I brush my thumb across her cheek.

“You just lie there,” I tell her. “And let me worship this beautiful body.”

Not waiting for a response, I start doing exactly that.

I kiss along her cheek and down her jaw until I reach her neck. Slow kisses turn to gentle nibbles as I search for the spot that will drive her crazy.

When I find it, her whole body shivers beneath me.

There it is. The place where her neck meets her shoulder.

Being the caveman that I am, I kiss the spot softly, trace it with my tongue… then give it the smallest bite.

Her breath hitches, and my chest expands.

My baby likes a little bite.

Good to know.

Watching her carefully, I start unbuttoning her silk shirt while I soothe the spot on her shoulder with a slow kiss.

When the shirt opens, my hand drifts over her soft skin, her warm stomach, the gentle curve of her waist, the fullness of her chest.

I pause for a moment, just feeling her.

Deciding I need a taste, I lean down and press a kiss to the nearest nipple. Abigail gasps softly, her fingers tightening against my shoulders.

Every reaction she gives me feels like a victory.

But my focus isn’t on me. It’s completely and fully on her.

I refuse to bring up what happened to her before and risk putting that memory back in her head, but I also won’t do anything that could scare her.

So I watch her.

Every breath.

Every movement.

Every tiny reaction.

And damn if she isn’t responsive.

When I move lower and reach her stomach, she flinches, and I immediately stop.

Waiting.

She looks down at me and giggles.

“Tickles.”