Page 43 of His Weekend Wife

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Once they entered the apartment, there was a new tension between them, a heightened awareness at what was to come.

He held the box of dessert and they stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He kissed her lightly. “Go on up and do what you need to do. I’ll be up shortly.” His husky voice made her spine tingle in awareness.

Logic told her she should deny him, refuse to be sucked in by the longing spiraling through her body, but she couldn’t have made the effort if her life depended upon it. Without a word, she turned and started up the winding staircase, looking back down at him. He was still standing at the bottom, watching her with a beautiful gaze full of raw promise. She continued her journey upstairs and made her way into her bedroom. There she stood in the middle of the room, gathering her thoughts. She was about to make love with Declan, her husband. In a million years she’d never thought she’d be back here, back in his arms. Why wasn’t she running? Apprehensive? She knew this was a losing situation, unless she just followed the human need within her and enjoyed herself. Stay disconnected in the heart, but engaged in the body. It had been a long time since she’d been held, touched, appreciated. She was a mere woman in desire of a man who knew how to treat her well.

Declan was the man. The only man.

It was okay to live a little.

She found the semi-sheer, sultry bodysuit and took it into the bathroom, where she slipped off the heels and dress and slid into the sexy lingerie that covered very little of her body. She peered at herself in the full-length mirror and swallowed, a mixture of fear and anticipation. She hadn’t worn anything like this in years, and although she was modest, she had to admit that the outfit looked lovely. The plunging neckline showed off her firm breasts. The ribbon halter would only take a slight tug and the top would slip away. Her hardened nipples were visible through the eyelet material and the apex of her thighs was an enticing shadow.

With a quick finger comb through her hair, and a thin layer of lip tint, she pulled on the short robe and started for the door when a thought came to her. She slipped back into the heels. She remembered how Declan liked when she wore heels and nothing else.

Stepping into the dim lit room, she noticed the silver tray sitting in the middle of the bed. At first she didn’t see Declan until she spotted him near the window. His jacket was gone and his silk tie undone. The blue shirt was unbuttoned partway, showing off his smooth, wide chest. He strolled toward her, his gaze slipping over her in an intensity that set off tremors inside of her. “Take the robe off,” he demanded.

Without hesitation, she reached up and pulled the tie free from her waist. Pushing the robe down her body, it landed at her feet in a silken puddle. His eyes slightly widened as he took in the sexy outfit, lingering a little longer on her breasts. Did she hear him growl? Her inner thighs trembled as she stood there under his stare, her nipples beading.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” he said on an exhale of breath.

He cupped her face with his large hands and pressed his lips to hers. When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against hers. “If you don’t want this, don’t want me, now is the time to tell me.” His husky voice vibrated her chest.

Any tension remaining in her body, any doubt or uncertainty, melted away. “I want this.”

Those three simple words broke all chains. He took her hand and together they walked to the bed. “Please have a seat, bella.”

Without hesitation, she sat on the edge of the mattress and pushed herself up to lean against the headboard. He took a step back to admire her. Witnessing the tightness of his jaw, the glazing of his eyes made her nipples bunch tighter against the fabric. She stretched her legs out, bending one knee, not bothering to remove her shoes.

She’d keep on the fuck-me heels.

****

The thin layer of material barely hid her tight nipples and the V of her luscious thighs from his view. He forced air in and out of his lungs as the ache grew overpoweringly in his pants. He reached down to the bulge and adjusted his hard cock as he took a seat next to her hip. Anticipation rolled through him, but he rummaged up the right amount of control to take things slow—to enjoy the gift before him.

Her chest rose and fell, making his heart pound like a jackhammer against his ribs. Her tongue darted out to moisten her full, parted lips and he remembered so well how having his cock in her mouth had felt like heaven, how she’d suckled him, gently nibbling at his head. His blood scorched with the memory.

Taking the dish of molten lava cake from the platter, he dipped the spoon into the chocolate gooeyness and gathered up a good portion. He inched it closer to her and like a well-behaved child, she opened her mouth to accept the offering.

Her lips closed around the spoon as he pulled it away, a simple move and yet so erotic at the same time. A deep, satisfied moan escaped from low within her throat as she chewed.

“Delicious?” He smiled.

“You remembered that I’m a fan of chocolate.” A grin tugged the corner of her lips.

He spooned up more of the dessert. “My memory is perfect, which isn’t always an advantage.” A sliver of sadness crawled into his heart, but he pushed it away. Now was not the time to venture down the past and its troubles.

“You should try the cake.”

“I’d rather watch you eating.” He brought the utensil to her lips again and she opened wide, eagerly taking the dessert into her mouth.

“It’s addictive.”

“Five-star chefs can do magic with their hands.”

“Sure, but I was referring to you watching me.” Her voice was as smooth as satin.

He swallowed and replaced the dish and spoon onto the tray. “I want to see more of you.” He took the ribbon holding the baby-doll together and tugged. It easily came undone, dropping, exposing the deep channel between her breasts. He pushed the flimsy garment away, revealing her beautiful nipples, relishing in how he used to take great pride in suckling and molding the delicious mounds, having her arch under him, scratching his back with her nails as he brought her pleasure. He’d seen many breasts, but without any doubt, she had the best set he’d ever laid eyes upon, ever had the gift of touching. They were perfectly shaped, round, and firm. The rosy nipples were thick and swollen.

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