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He places his hand gently on my face. His thumb takes a swipe across my lips. “And I miss you terribly.”
He lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me tenderly. The kiss is too potent to think this is all we’ll share tonight. We’ll share much more by the way his tongue is tangling with mine, making every cell in my body come alive with passion.
I miss my husband. I miss the way he makes love to me – the way he owns my body like he’s owning it now, tightening his grip around my waist and carrying me to the bedroom.
I pop the buttons on his shirt to get it off quickly. He doesn’t seem to mind it. In fact, he smiles, pleased with my aggression. I take that to mean he likes the aggression like I’m really the aggressor when my entire body is quivering with need. I manage to wiggle out of my clothes at the same time he frees himself from his garments and then he lowers himself on top of me and stares. We gaze into each other’s eyes. We talk with them. We apologize with them. We reassure each other of our love.
I gasp and quiver.
I feel his heart pounding against my breasts, and I quiver.
I gasp again, seeing the sparkle in his eyes.
His eyes…
In them, I see the shy boy from high school who is now a grown man with not a single shy bone in his body. I see strength. I see a man who was once broken. A man who has fought battles and won. I see love. Pure, unfiltered love. And I see determination – a quality I’m sure he’d pass on to our babies.
He lowers his head to kiss my lips, and then he’s back to gazing into my eyes when he says, “I’ll be Stewart, Essex—I’ll be whoever you want me to be. Whoever you need me to be, Tessie. Do you believe that?”
I nod. “Yes.”
He kisses me again, pinning me, straddling me, all the while never breaking eye contact.
I shiver again and those shivers become all-out quivers when I feel the connection between us, the way my body takes him like we were made specifically for each other. He moves slowly, carefully and precisely, making love to me with a skill that only he possesses.
The warmth of his body consumes me. The friction we make turns me into a raging fire that threatens to burn down this apartment building. I look at him, can only see the soft black curls on the top of his head while he kisses his way down to my chest, lingering there, his tongue taking swipes at my flesh before his mouth takes complete control.
His tongue flutters against my stomach, down to my belly button. Something about the idea that I may be pregnant has me super sensitive to his touch – connected to him in ways he’s not aware of. He moves up to take my lips again, greedily as he finds his way into my soul.
And we make love again like we’ve been starving for this kind of affection from each other. I pant and hold on to him until I can no longer muffle a scream that echoes off the walls. And he unashamedly calls out for me, gives in to the feeling that has him growling, releasing and holding me firmly in place as he has his way.
When he’s able to move, he eases off me, lays next to me and pulls me up on his chest. “How do you feel?”
“I feel a lot better now that we’re back on good terms,” I say, listening to his heartbeat.
“Me, too,” he says, then kisses my forehead. “We should never fight again.”
“With that slick mouth of yours, it’s bound to happen…still can’t believe you fired me.”
“You knew it was coming.”
Tickled, I say, “How would I have known that? You told me you would never fire me.”
“That was before we got married. After we married, I told you I didn’t want you working for me. I want you at my home—ourhome—doing whatever it is your heart desires and taking care of these babies I’m going to put inside of you.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“And what if there’s already one there?”
He sits up, prompting me to do the same. He asks, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Sort of.”
“Tess…”
“I missed my period. I never miss a period and—”
