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Her fingers tangled in his hair as he breathed in the lovely scent between her breasts.
Fuller, he thought. Her breasts were fuller than when they’d been together before. Had time or childbirth done that?
Either way, he was going to reap their bounty.
His fingers found the clasp to her bra and freed her beautiful breasts. He stared in appreciation. “You’re beautiful, Brielle. So beautiful.”
“No talking,” she reminded him, pulling his mouth back to hers and kissing him so thoroughly, so hungrily that the constriction of his shorts grew painful and he had to adjust himself.
He pushed her back on her bed, leaned forward and kissed her belly, then lifted his T-shirt over his head, wanting to feel his skin against hers, his body against hers with nothing between them.
“You’re the one who is beautiful,” she murmured, tracing her fingers down his chest. “You always were so beautiful, Ross.”
He started to correct her, to tell her he was a man and far far from beautiful. Then her fingers found their way to his waist. All he could do was suck in his breath in eager anticipation of what she’d do next.
No, he thought. This wasn’t about him. It was about Brielle. About how much he wanted to make her feel good, about how much he wanted to give her pleasure. He wanted Brielle so caught up in him that she was as hungry for him as he was fo
r her.
Hungrier. Starved.
His hand covered hers just as she slid his zipper down and he shook his head.
Her brow lifted in question.
By way of answer he tugged on her elastic-waisted shorts, sliding them over the curve of her hips, down her toned thighs and calves, and tossed them onto her floor.
Lying on the bed in only her bright pink cotton panties, Brielle was easily the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever been lucky enough to behold.
Beautiful.
His.
He may have been stupid enough not to acknowledge the connection between them when he’d been younger, but now he knew. He and Brielle were meant to be together. Always and for ever.
This time he was wise enough to embrace that fact rather than try to run from something so powerful.
Love.
He loved Brielle.
Always had. Always would.
He slipped his fingers beneath her panties and slid them down the same path as her shorts.
Immediately, he realized he’d been wrong.
Looking at her, completely naked, lying on the bed waiting for his touch, that was the most beautiful sight he’d ever been lucky enough to behold.
She watched him, her skin flushed with desire, her eyes half-lidded and her lips parted.
So beautiful.
He ran his hands over her legs, going slowly, enjoying every glide of his skin across hers, growing more and more excited with the goose-bumps that prickled her skin at his touch, at the way her nipples puckered and strained upwards, eager to touch him, to be touched by him.
As much as he wanted to explore every inch of her body, slowly and surely, kissing her breasts, bringing her to the brink of pleasure and then toppling her over time and again, he couldn’t do it.
Because he couldn’t resist the tantalizing pull of between her legs.
