Page 51 of His Weekend Wife

“Yes, your touch—always your touch,” she whispered. Her arms came up and around her bare breasts.

“Do you want me?”

Her tongue came out, darting along her bottom lip. “Do you want me to say that I’ve always wanted you?”

“Only if it’s true, bella.”

“I fantasized of you. While sleeping. Eating. Working. Especially while touching myself.”

Declan savored her words. “If only I’d known.”

“You would have what?” Her gaze held his, like a vice demanding truth.

“Damn. You turn me inside out.” He tore a hand through his hair.

“Are you attempting to not answer the question, or is it that you don’t have one?”

“It’s too late to swim in the past, sweetheart. I can say what I would have done, but my actions spoke very loud.” He sighed heavily, wishing some of the tension in his chest would ease. He threaded his fingers in her hair, gently tugging the strands, pressing his forehead against hers. Their breath mingled, her heart wrapped around him and her amazing scent teased him. All he craved was to consume her in an explosion of raw, blistering need.

Declan covered her lips, seizing her with a blazing kiss. He stroked her tongue, molding her under his attention. Dropping his hands to her shoulders, then down her back, he drew her closer. She’d finally dropped her arms away from her nakedness and her firm breasts were against his chest. His shirt became an intrusion, one he needed to eradicate. He clutched the material, and with a sudden jerk, the buttons popped, flying across the room as the material ripped and shredded under his grasp. He dragged the remainder of the shirt from his body.

Grasping her thighs, he pulled her down, sending her back against the mattress. She spread her legs wide and he settled between them, pressing his bulging zipper against her. Heat seeped through his pants, making breathing hard.

“These have to go.” He pulled away, clutching at his pants. A tornado of clutching, pulling and dragging occurred as they worked together. In the heat of the moment, he’d lost a damn good shirt and slacks and he didn’t give a flying fuck.

Within a breath, he was back on the bed with her, sliding between her legs, suckling her lips until they were swollen. He was a scarred man, desperate for salvation and his only relief was the woman he held in his hands.

“Damn, Ash,” he whispered against her lips. “I can’t think. Can’t breathe. Can’t logically put two thoughts together when you’re near.”

Her eyes held him in the softest of grips. “Then let’s do something about it.”

At her suggestion, his cock grew another inch until he thought he’d burst. “I once thought you hated me.”

She winced. “Never, Declan. Never. Did you hate me?”

“Yes, I did.” He divulged. “But it’s true. There’s only a thin line between love and hate. A man hates only when he can’t love.”

She lowered her eyes, a gut-wrenching sadness flitted across her features. Declan sucked in an aching deep breath, bothered that she looked as if he’d kicked her.

He didn’t want her to be sad, only happy. The desire to see her smile, to hear her laugh, made his heart fill with an unfamiliar longing. He was like a train heading down the tracks at a high rate of speed without brakes. He had a month with her, but knew in his heart that a month wouldn’t be nearly long enough. There was so much he had to say, but now he just wanted to feel. To drive his body inside of her and relieve the scorching ache in his cock.

“I want you.”

“I want you.” she whispered.

The binds tightened between them, he slipped his thumb through her folds, her juices moistening his fingers, making him hungrier. Her wet body told him everything he needed to know. He’d take great pleasure in hearing her moans as he plundered her body. Hear her short pants and see her skin flush in rose-colored-passion. He’d continue to drive his cock in her pussy, until she whimpered in delight, then called out his name as she floated on the clouds of his making. He intended to please her, love her and make her his again.

Yes, that’s what his plan was. To have his wife back in his arms forever

He clasped her thighs, spreading her wide, then guided his cock between her legs to her swollen, wet, awaiting treasure.

As soon as his tip breached the tight barrier, he had to slow his movement before he exploded. He eased his pulsing erection into her sweltering passage as he pressed his fingers into her thighs, fusing their bodies together, making them one. He took her channel captive, sliding along the silken tunnel, feeling his balls tighten.

Pressing his hips against hers, he gritted his teeth and moaned—aching to burst. A thought popped into his head. He wasn’t wearing a condom. He’d been so anxious to slide into her body that he’d forgotten the protection. What if she became pregnant? His heart swelled imagining her swollen with his child, a human form of the two of them together. A selfish part of him wanted to spill his seed inside of her, but a more logical side couldn’t allow his heart to take him for an impulsive spin.

“Declan?” she looked up at him, eyes blazing.

“I’m not wearing a condom.” He had to pull out. And somehow make it to his bedroom with his raging cock. “I should—”

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