Page 70 of Kiss From A Rose

CHAPTER 27

Rose

Istormed up the stairs when Edgar told me that Gray was going to fix the retaining wall by the cliff.

Who the hell did he think he was doing that without talking to me?

I knocked and, without waiting for a reply, walked into Gray’s room, slamming the door shut behind me. I'd just entered when he stepped out of the bathroom, dampandnaked, a towel in his hands.

The air whooshed out of my lungs.

He grinned. "This looks like a scene from a bad movie."

He didn't make any effort to cover himself.

I couldn't look away. It had been months since we had been intimate. We'd always had a good and healthy sex life. I loved making love with him—loved the intimacy. I missed it. I missed him.

"Babe?" He walked toward me, his eyes heated. He dropped the towel on the floor.

I licked my lips. His penis was thickening, getting harder, and I had to swallow a moan.

He gently, oh so gently, dipped his head and brushed his lips against mine. I let him kiss me; let myself kiss him. It felt good to taste him, feel his hands on me as he pulled me close. I loved his smell and loved the sounds he made as his tongue dipped into mine. We'd been together for twenty years; our bodies were attuned to one another.

He raised his head. "Fuck, I've missed that."

I moved my hips against him. "Missed more than that, I reckon," I whispered, feeling more than a little aroused.

"Babe," he groaned, yanking my hips against his, rubbing himself between my thighs.

I was wearing a pair of jeans, and his hands unsnapped and unzipped them before I could think straight.

"Let me," he murmured. "Please,Rose. I need you."

I swayed when his hand cupped my pussy.

"So wet, so warm," he whispered and dipped a finger inside me.

I whimpered.

He pressed his thumb on my clit and stretched my channel with a second finger. I leaned my head on his shoulder, smelling him. My husband. My man. My love.

"Yes, babe. Like that," he encouraged when I moved to increase the friction of his hand against my clit.

My breathing became ragged, and time elongated back to when we loved like this, carefree, just the two of us, close, entwined.

I felt the forerunners of my release, and I began to moan. When I came, I slumped against him. He left his hand on my pussy, while the other held me tight.

When I got my breathing under control, I lifted my head and he smiled at me, gently, warmly.

He released me and then licked his fingers, the ones smeared with my juices. It aroused me.

"Fuck, babe, you taste so good. You always taste so…."

I looked at his cock, standing proudly. But before I could touch him, he stepped back.

"That was just for you." He walked to the closet and pulled out clothes.

As he dressed, I tried to rearrange my thoughts. I had been certain he'd get me into bed. Gray liked sex. He was a sexual person, as was I. We were alwaysverygood in bed. The chemistry was electrifying. Our sex life was one of the reasons I was certain he'd not cheat on me—and also why I'd never be able to be with another man. I doubted it could get this good with anyone else. And, there was that pesky problem of my being in love with him.

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