Page 23 of Christmas Eve Do-Over
11
Shasta
Those callused fingers removed my bra before I knew what was happening. I was lost in the kiss, his lips and tongue doing things to my brain, obliterating all thoughts of why I had been afraid of this. I'd had many fun bed partners over the years, but nothing had felt like this. Those had just been a fun release, a way to pass the time with some momentary pleasures.
This? Well, this was another thing entirely.
My head felt like it would float away, leaving my lips to both devour and be devoured running solely on primal instinct. Time stood still and rushed forward at once. I was both nineteen again, my heart about to pound out of my chest, and yet I was also forty-six, worried over a level of perkiness that left the building a decade back.
Duke pulled away, laying me back on the couch, his big hands cupping my breasts like they were the only pair he'd ever seen and therefore deserved reverence. Then his fingers were traveling south to pull at the waistband of the sweats I wore, tugging them off my legs and then onto the floor with my shirt.
"Tsk, tsk, Shasta. No panties?" His eyes heated, the warm blue more turquoise than I'd ever seen.
My face burst into heat, despite the fact I was quite confident in my body. You see, the girls and I had a spa day to prepare for Esa's big day. A spa day that included waxing they said I couldn't get out of no matter how loudly I griped. I hadn't realized that shapes and designs weren't just for decorative shrubs in one's yard.
For the first time ever, I sported a heart shaped...well, you know. And Duke was looking at it like he'd found buried treasure. Before I could say "ahoy, matey!" he threw my legs over his shoulders and buried his face in my treasure, pilfering the goods like the dirty pirate he was.
Now I understood why he almost wrecked the car. I couldn't have steered a simple golf cart with the way my limbs were contorting and writhing under the lash of his tongue. When his fingers joined in, my eyes rolled back in my head and I gave him everything he wanted.
"Duke, Duke, Duke..." I chanted.
As I regained my senses, I felt cold air hit my overheated skin. A quick head roll to my right found a private strip show taking place. I hadn't won Go Fish, but I'd won something better: the sight of Duke stripping off the rest of his clothes and fisting that thick cock I'd had in my mouth earlier.
Did I mention how hot Duke was? Between the silver threading through his beard, the tattoo snaking across his broad chest that hadn't been there when we dated before, and the mature muscles rippling with each step he took, he stole my breath yet again. When he just stroked his impressive length while he eyed me sprawled on his couch, I gulped the air into my lungs like a drowning woman.
I was greedy. For him, for air, for more of this exact moment every day for the rest of my life. I wanted it all.
The smirk faded as he studied my body. Not one inch went unnoticed as I trembled in anticipation. What could only be described as love and adoration filled every line on his face, making him ten times the man he was when we were younger. We both knew what we had was precious.
"Second time's the charm," I whispered out loud.
Then he was on me and in me, our bodies reunited and rejoicing.
His thrusts were firm, but his look soft. The heat built between us, but so did the sweet. He traced kisses over my skin, anywhere he could reach. My hands traced lines over his back, recommitting his body to memory.
The couch moved with each thrust, the scrape on the hard wood drowned out by our pants, our moans, and our "I love yous." This was making love like I had never experienced, even when we were together in the past.
Two people who'd seen the world, overcome heartache, and come out the other side weren't the same people and neither was our lovemaking. It was deeper, it was sacred. It was everything.
And when the wave crested again, I pulled him in with me. My lifeguard would save me, of that I had no doubt.
* * *
We finally made it to Duke's bed, laughing about the increased recovery time needed in between bouts of lovemaking. I assured Duke that he had nothing to feel bad about. What we experienced was by far the best time I'd ever had with a man. Besides, I could use some cuddle and talk time. Because he was a mature man, and knew if his woman was happy, he was happy, he wanted that too.
The holiday decorations continued in his bedroom with the mistletoe hung above the door. A blanket on the foot of his bed sported a ridiculous rendition of an ugly Christmas sweater. He must have seen my rolled eyes because his question made it clear I'd have to spill the beans.
I snuggled in closer to his chest, needing his solid body to anchor myself. "I haven't liked Christmas Eve since 1997."
His beard brushed my forehead above me while he nodded. "While that's very specific, I need you to be more specific."
I huffed out a laugh, loving how he always pulled me out of the dark abyss with humor and kindness.
"You already know I was in a horrible marriage. He beat me, repeatedly." Duke's arms tightened around me and I couldn't look him in the eye, knowing he would be furious for me. "I wanted to have a baby so badly, probably to have one good thing in my life, but I couldn't get pregnant. I went to a doctor to get some answers and after he ordered an MRI, I'll never forget what he asked me. He wanted to know if I'd ever been in an accident because he'd seen physical damage to my internal organs." I paused to swipe the tears off my cheeks. "I'd never been in an accident, Duke. I'd just been beaten by my husband so severely I lost the ability to have children."
The words hung there, the ultimate conversation stopper. What does one say in response to something so profoundly tragic? "I'm sorry" couldn't possibly cover the emotions I was feeling, so what was the point of saying them?
Like always, Duke seemed to sense what I needed. Instead, he stroked my arm, his gentle kiss on the top of my head a simple reassurance he was there. That he loved me.
