Page 88 of Embers in Our Souls
The sun is starting to set and the sky has that beautiful purplish-orange color. I want to stay lost in this moment right here, my heart completely enamored by this man who has come back from where I thought I had lost him. I honestly thought I had lostmyselfyears ago.
He set up his camera to capture the ride, something I assume he uses for content to post on social media. He mentioned he’ll post it but not show our faces. What I’m about to do might throw hisFire Huntersinto a tizzy.
We stop at a light, and I rub my hand up and down the front of his chest. He turns his head in acknowledgement. There’s something intimate about being on this motorcycle and I’m getting more turned on by the second.
He wasn’t kidding about the damn foreplay. My body feels like every cell is firing on all cylinders. If we don’t head back to the house soon, I might need him to pull over so I can ravage him out here, even though prying eyes can see.
I notice him take a turn and we start crossing through familiar areas again, back to neighborhoods I recognize. Soon enough, we’re turning down his street and I feel the thrill of anticipation that I’ll get to strip him down once we’re back in his house.
When he pulls into the garage and turns off the engine of the bike, I pull myself off him. He must feel as keyed up as me because he’s removing his jacket, then grabbing the chin strap to my helmet next.
The moment he frees my face, I grab his helmet to remove it. Once I see his beautiful features, I bring my palms to his cheeks and pull his lips down to meet mine.
He pulls me into his arms, my legs automatically winding around his hips. He moves his arms around my waist, while his calloused hands move under my shirt and jacket to touch my skin.
I moan into him, eager for more proximity. We become frantic as we move further into the house, tossing layers of our clothes. My jacket is thrown to the ground, then our shirts are next.
He pulls our lips apart to inspect the red, lace bra I chose to wear. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he says, inspecting the way the fabric stretches across my skin.
He pushes one breast free, bringing it into his mouth. I automatically push my chest into him, while pulling on his dirty-blond hair. My head falls back, my eyes closing, and my body aching for more.
He pops out my breast then blows on my sensitive skin, enticing another loud moan. “Yes, Tyler.”
“You like that, wife?”
God, I love when he calls me that.
“Mmhmm,” is all that comes out of me.
He pulls my hair, bringing my gaze to meet his. “You like when I call you that?”
“Yes.” My tone is breathy.
He starts to nibble along my collarbone, enticing goosebumps along my skin. I start to move my hips of their own accord, seeking friction.
“I need us to be naked, Ty,” I moan.
“I know, baby,” he tells me. “But I also love you writhing like this against me.”
I whimper.
His chuckle along my skin is downright evil, yet I crave the way he pushes me to this edge each time we are together.
We’re at his bedroom door and he kicks it open. The expanse of his room is large, his bed nicely made with sage green bedding and minimal pillows. He has a few decorative pictures hung in the room, but, for the most part, this space is pretty bare.
He lays me down on the bed, still planting kisses along the center of my chest, trailing them down until he meets the button of my jeans. He undoes them then begins to shimmy the fabric down.
Once my pants are removed and I’m completely exposed to him, he starts kissing up my leg. I’m squirming, needing more of a connection from this man of mine.
“Wanna have a little fun, Indy?” I see the devilish smirk move across his lips.
I let a smile move across my face and give him a slight nod.
He moves his hands up the sides of my ribs, stopping and cupping my breasts, squeezing my nipples. “Right answer.”
He kisses my lips, then pulls away too soon.
I watch as he moves to the side table and retrieves a maroon scarf.
