Page 77 of Promise

He wasn’t setting demands. He was making promises again.

I don’t respond, just keep my focus on him.

The strength in his forearms. The span of his chest. The spread of his legs.

He leans back, settling his elbows on the wooden tread, watching me, waiting.

We continue to stare at each other for another long minute before I cautiously step forward. One foot in front of the other until I reach his bent knees. His legs are already spread but he spreads them wider to accommodate me, although I have no intention of standing between them.

Instead, I press his legs together and slide my hands up his sturdy thighs, spreading my legs to climb over his. I hitch up my dress, so my inner thighs meet the denim covering his outer ones. At first, I situate myself near his knees, taking time to run my hands up his lap and along his belt.

His eyes flutter shut until I glide forward, dragging my body over the tops of his.

We don’t speak. Nothing needs to be said. This is my moment.

Once I’m settled more firmly in his lap, the hard length of him directly beneath where I’m soft and tender, I rock forward.

Dart hisses. He moves his arms so one hand is plastered to the wall and the other grips the spindle of the railing, like he’s holding himself back from taking over, taking control.

I rock again, rubbing my hands up his chest. His T-shirt is warm from the sunshine and heat of his skin beneath the worn cotton. His chest rises and falls with his shaky breaths.

I lean forward.

As if some of the tension in him snaps, he meets me halfway, kissing me hard. His tongue immediately invades, sweeping into my mouth and stealing my breath. He sucks on my lower lip, before popping off it.

“Don’t you ever kiss someone else again.”

God forgive me, but that command ripples down my middle, exploding in my lower belly.

I could snap at him. Demand he never leave me. Demand he never kiss someone else.

Instead, I cup his jaw and bring his mouth to mine again, kissing him back just as hard, thrusting my tongue forward, meeting his again. He cups the back of my head, keeping me attached to him, commandeering this kiss until we fall into a natural rhythm. Tongues twirling. Lips sucking.

And my hips have a mind of their own, as I rock faster and faster as the kissing grows more intense.

This is that first kiss. And the second one. And all the ones in between.

This is Dart and me.

Zero to one-hundred in a blink.

His other hand comes to the small of my back, and he presses on me, holding me in place to grind harder over him.

Eventually, I break free from our mouths, letting out a gasp as my body comes alive like it hasn’t in years. In a way I cannot achieve on my own. This only happens with him.

Dart. My husband.

He’s hard beneath my clit. His length eager to fill me. The desire between us is so visceral I can feel it through his jeans and my damp panties.

He releases my head and slips his hand to my bare thigh. “Let me touch you.”

“Please,” I beg as his mouth comes to my chin, my jaw, my neck. I cup his head as I move to allow his hand deeper between my thighs.

He brushes his fingertips over the damp fabric of my underwear, forcing a small whimper from me before he pushes the panel aside and the tip of his finger instantly finds where I need him most.

Like he’s never forgotten. As if he remembers every trigger on my body.

At the same time his fingertip teases my clit, he nips at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, and I cry out, melting into him.