Page 105 of His Wounded Heart

“Only if you take off your shirt off first,” she murmurs.

I pull my shirt off over my head, not bothering to unbutton it. I watch as her hands reach for me, but I stop her. Instead, I tug at her dress and pull her up into a sitting position.

Swoosh.

I throw her dress over my shoulder so that it lands somewhere next to my forgotten shirt. Who cares where, because now I’m looking at black lace adorning lush, creamy skin. She reaches for me again, and I love the thought of her wanting me so badly, but she doesn’t get a turn quite yet. I gently grab her wrists and hold them on either side of her head, intending to kiss and nibble my way down to her breasts, but when I see her shining, parted lips, I have to kiss her again.

As she parts her lips and thrusts her tongue into my mouth, my cock feels like it’s going to hammer its way out of my jeans. I pull away just enough to nip her bottom lip. Based on her low moan, I’d say she likes it.

I kiss her chin, then continue down until I finally get to suckle that rapidly beating pulse on her neck, and feel it flutter against my tongue. She arches against me.

I continue my journey down her body, until I arrive at her sumptuous breasts that are displayed just for me, in the black lace and satin. I lick along the ribbon of satin, and she shivers. I do it again on the other side. Back and forth, she smells so good, and her skin is as soft as the petal of a flower.

I let one of her hands go so I can pull back the cups of her bra and mold her breast in my hand. So warm. Her nipple is a tight velvet nub that scrapes against my palm, and I look at its twin, and can’t resist suckling it.

“Simon,” she cries out as my mouth tightens around the taut tip, my tongue swirling around and around, bringing her deeper into my mouth. If my mouth weren’t so busy, I would have grinned as I feel her fingernails digging into my scalp. Her legs are restless, until they finally find the right position, lying on either side of my thighs.

I let go of her other hand, and mold both breasts so that I can more easily see her naked beauty on display, just for me. She jolts, and I look up, wanting to see her expression. Even with both hands now tangled in my too-long hair, she gives me only a fleeting, shy glance.

Words.

She needs words, Clark.

“You are gorgeous, Trenda.” Her eyes meet mine. “I don’t know why I’ve been so blessed to get this moment with you, but I thank God for it.”

It’s true.

I can’t remember a more sublime moment in my life.

She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off with a kiss. When I’m done, I continue to talk. “There’s never been a woman that I’ve wanted more than you.”

She stills beneath me. Her brown eyes dominate her face. I know her question before she asks it.

“It’s the truth. I’m never going to lie to you when we’re in our bed together. And whenever we’re together it is our bed.”

Those words popped out without my permission. I’m still not ready to tell her I love her. I want to be sure I can follow through on the level of commitment that those words would imply. But I needed her to know—soul deep—how much this moment means to me.

“Do you understand?” I ask.

“You’re right, Simon. This is our bed.” She tries to twine her arms around my neck, but I don’t let her; instead I move downward. I kiss her sternum, then her belly button, and soon am licking above the satin ribbon along the top of her panties.

I hook my fingers and pull the panties off her hips, down her legs, then throw them over my shoulder onto an ever-increasing pile of clothes. I push her legs wider and look at her glistening sex. Seeing her pink folds part open for me makes me feel powerful and weak. I’m the conqueror and the conquered.

“Are you—”

“I need you, Trenda,” I interrupt whatever she was going to say. “Give me this,” I sigh right before my thumbs part her flesh even more, so that my tongue can gently swipe from her entrance that beckons me, upwards to that little bundle of nerves that invites me to play.

Again, I feel another jolt go through her body as I lick, suckle, feast and nibble. Now Trenda is digging her nails into my scalp again and her heel is pressing deeply into my back.

“Too much,” she gasps.

If she can still form words, it’s not enough.

I thrust a finger inside her sheath. She wails softly. I release her swollen bud so I can look up at her.

Is she okay?

Her head is shaking back and forth on her pillow, a radiant expression on her face. She’s more than okay. I dip back down and start my very serious play, a smile on my lips right before I suckle her clitoris. This time when she wails, I know to keep going.