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His strong hand lifted her leg off the sofa and pulled it over his ass as his hips quickly rocked, and he thrust himself into her wetness, causing her to arch her head back and cry out at the joy of feeling him inside of her once again.
He groaned deep and low in his chest, vibrating against her skin. Her eyes watered with tears of joy.
Pulsing her hips up to meet his every thrust, her arms held him close as his arms slid under her shoulders and her hands clasped over them, allowing him to leverage her body so his thrusts were deeper. She panted as she tried catching her breath, the pace wild. Her limbs began to quiver as she felt first the tingle then the white-hot force of her orgasm roll over her with such force she quit breathing for a few seconds. She gasped as she came, and his moan of excitement sent a thrill through her. He increased the speed of his thrusts, his breathing shallow and rapid, then his loud low groan as he pushed one last time into her and froze as he spilled into her.
Slowly, his body relaxed into hers, and she let her tears fall into her hair as she buried her face into the crook of his neck and squeezed him with all her might.
As their breathing returned to a pace they could each handle; his head lifted enough to cover her lips with his. The desperation was now gone, leaving only the loving glow that appears after the coupling of two people who have longed for each other for years. His lips were moist and soft, and they moved gently over hers, tasting her mouth fully. His tongue slid inside and swirled around, mating with hers in the slow seductive dance of lovers.
Oh, she’d missed this. Never wanting to let him go, she tightened her legs around his hips and her arms around his back and let her mouth show him just how much she’d missed him. He kissed his way across her cheeks and down her neck, nipping lightly, then kissing again.
“I want to feel all of you against me,” he huffed out as his face planted into her hair and he lovingly kissed the other side of her face and neck. His hand snaked under her body to unhook her bra. He skillfully pushed her bra up, exposing her breasts; his mouth instantly found and sucked a nipple between his lips, flicking it with his warm tongue.
A shiver traveled down her body, and he chuckled. Paying the same attention to her other breast, he rolled the newly vacated nipple between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing slightly. She tightened her inner muscles, and he groaned loudly.
“Jesus, Kiera.” He kissed his way up her chest, pecking her lips once again. “I’m gonna need a little more time to recover, but when I do, do that again. Yeah?”
Sliding her hands into his soft silvery hair, she looked into his eyes, squeezed again, and responded when he groaned, “Yeah.”
Reaching for the tissue box, he pulled himself from her and quickly cleaned them up. Laying behind her on the sofa, her back to his front, he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her to him—the feeling familiar, making her feel whole.
15
After a brief nap, he woke to Kiera’s even breathing. He allowed himself to inhale the scent of her hair. It reminded him of baby powder or fresh, clean skin. Staring at the fireplace and the pictures of his family, he allowed himself this time to reflect on all that had transpired. His counselor had asked him how long he would punish both of them before he realized he still wanted her and wanted to be with her. He could very well still love her, but he couldn’t admit that yet. They were both so much more mature now, and over the years he’d grown more pensive and deliberate. The fact that there was an enormous amount of his heart that Kiera had always held is what Rita hated the most. The fights they’d had in the beginning of their marriage as his heart broke once again that he wasn’t married to Kiera had him talking in his sleep when he’d cried out her name. Rita sat in the chair across from the bed when he woke, angry as a swarm of bees whose honey had been stolen. The inquisition lasted far longer than it should have, and every opportunity she had to lob a grenade about Kiera at him, she did.
Then, she stopped caring when she realized he’d never forget, and she began living a life of her own. That led to her meeting Harold and then living a life with him. Who could blame her?
Kiera stirred, wiping her eyes as she woke and he leaned his head close to hers and whispered, “Are you hungry,amore mio?”
She turned in his arms, her back to the sofa, her eyes locked on his. “I’ve always loved that you call me that.”
Her stunning hazel eyes were darker now, almost brown. But they still held the golden flecks that had always fascinated him. Her hand brushed across his cheek, and he turned his head to kiss her palm.
“Yes, I’m famished.” Her hand sifted through his hair, and he closed his eyes as he relished the feeling of her touching him.
Opening his eyes, he smiled at the fascinating look of wonder on her face. “Okay. Let’s stir up some grub here.”
She laughed, and the sound made his heart light. Her face transformed, the look positively stunning on her. “I haven’t heard that term in such a long time. Oh, my goodness, thank you for that.”
She sat up as her chuckling subsided, reaching behind her to reclasp her bra. He noted a smattering of the fine silver scars across her back and his stomach twisted. She bent forward to retrieve her blouse from the floor and grabbed all of their clothing, laying his shirt, jeans, and briefs on the end of the sofa. She slipped her panties up her legs, then her pants, before standing to pull them up all the way. When her look became serious, he chuckled and sat up, tugging his clothing in his hand. He stood, hiding his growing cock with his clothes and pointed with his other hand down the hall to the left of the living room. “First door on the left.”
She smiled and lightly blushed before hurrying to the guest bathroom. He walked the other direction to his master suite and tossed his clothing at the foot of the bed. Pulling open dresser drawers, he grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, slipping them on before using the bathroom himself.
Whistling as he walked down the hall to the kitchen, his heart was light, the thousand-pound weight he used to carry on his shoulders was lighter. It wasn’t gone, but it seemed more manageable.
Stepping onto the patio, he lit the grill. As he walked back to the kitchen, Kiera was coming in with their half-empty glasses of wine. She set them on the counter, reached for the bottle and poured more wine into each.
“Here you go.” She tapped her glass to his. “What can I do to help you?”
He sipped his wine. “Well, what do you prefer? Baked potato? Zucchini?”
Watching her purse her lips as though she were thinking about it caused him to chuckle. “Baked potato!”
“I knew you’d pick that. You always hated zucchini.”
Giggling, she responded, “Yep.”
He nodded toward the refrigerator. “Potatoes are in the large drawer. Foil is below the counter there in the top drawer. Please butter and wrap them, and I’ll put them on the grill.”
