Sing You Home by Ava Hunter
Luke’s cock throbs in his pants. Christ, he wants his wife in the worst way. His lovesick horndog brain can’t even muddle through the events of tonight. One minute, he and Sal had been baring all; the next thing he knew, she was on his lap, her lips pressed hot against his, her entire body melting into him with needy want.
He stares down at Sal, propped up against the pillows, half-clad in her thin cotton dress. Her skin dewy with sweat. Her chest rises and falls in hot, wild animal pants. Her eyes glitter like bright emeralds. Her hair waterfalls down her shoulders, dark and glossy. Those lean runner’s legs that he loves crook at the knees, showcasing the luscious curve of her ass.
All Luke can do is stare in awe, his eyes feasting on her near-naked body. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this, but goddamn, he’s gonna enjoy it.
“Luke,” Sal whispers. A shy flush coats her cheeks. “You’re staring.”
“Damn straight I am.” Luke shakes his head in disbelief. “Woman, you are gorgeous.”
Sal grins. Her body arcs toward him, magnetic-like. She looks feral, full of heat, of animalistic want.
“I think that dress needs to come off,” Luke says.
Sal flashes a flirty grin. “I think you’re right.”
Her words send a wrecking ball of want through Luke. He’s doomed. That lovely, sultry grin of Sal’s has him by the balls.
Shedding his pants, Luke climbs onto the bed, watching as Sal easily shimmies out of her dress. His breath catches at the sight of her naked form.
Gorgeous. If he weren’t so goddamn hot for Sal, he’d get down on his knees and worship at the altar of his wife.
He wants this to be perfect. He’ll go at her pace. Slow. Gentle.
Though his dick is telling him otherwise.
She lies back against the pillows, her hooded eyes tracking him. Waiting for him.
Positioning himself beside her, Luke slides a hand under Sal’s slim upper torso and cradles her close.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hey, yourself.”
He kisses her silky lips. Then he dips his head to drag his breath over each pulse point of her body. Throat, wrists, temple. He takes his time. Savoring the rush of her blood. A reminder that Sal is alive. On this earth. In his heart. His bed and his hands.
Luke lets loose a guttural growl and deepens the kiss, drinking her in. Taking his time. Relearning the body of his wife, her wants and needs, her taste and her touch.
Sal murmurs her satisfaction, dragging her hands through his dark hair.
She breaks the kiss with a gasp.
“Please, Luke,” Sal pants. Her back arches, her breasts press against his chest. The heels of her feet knead against the bed. Her eyes desperate with fever. “I need you.”
I need you.Christ. The words mean to kill him.
She looks him in the eyes, cups his cheek. “Make love to me.”
“Are you sure?”
Though he wants her in the worst way, he’s content to just love her. Care for her. Wants nothing until she’s ready.
“So sure.” Her answer is a promise. Her beautiful eyes shine with tears. “I need you.”
Letting out a guttural cry, Luke roughly meets Sal’s lips.
This time, their touch sparks something—a reconnecting of the soul. A bolt of love rushes up their spines and between them.
Trembling, Luke positions himself to hover over Sal. Palms near the sides of her shoulders. She closes her eyes as he slides slickly inside her velvet warmth. Her mouth parted in a perfect red O, she shudders out a moan. Slowly, Luke begins to rock. Sal undulates with him, her hips pressing against his, her slender hands slipping over his shoulders. Tears stream from the corners of her eyes.
Luke dips his head, kissing away her tears, burying his face in her silky hair, lowering himself close, careful not to crush her, but close enough that their heartbeats sync, their bodies create wild, unbridled heat.
“Together,” Luke says. He’s close, damn near ready to explode, but he ain’t going without Sal.
“Yes, yes,” Sal whispers, nodding.
She pulses around him. Making him damn near mad in the best way possible. She’s made of velvet, of fire, of holy water and ecstasy. Luke pumps, driving himself further. Deeper. Christ, he’s so far inside of her. Sal, so slick from her own desire, has Luke’s mind overheating from the sensation.
A shockwave of an explosion reels through his body. Luke lets out a bellow of pleasure, his body tensing against Sal’s.
Sal gasps, nails digging into his shoulder blades. She writhes beneath his large frame, begging for more even as her body shudders with her own explosive end.
Panting hard, Luke sags forward. Covering Sal’s body with his, careful not to crush her, as Sal slowly opens her eyes.
Kissing her temple, Luke rolls onto the pillows, tucking Sal protectively into his side. Her head rests on his right shoulder. They lie there, sticky and blissed out, until Sal breaks the silence with a chuckle.
Tilting her smiling face up to Luke’s, she says, “Hmm, I think that went okay.”
Laughing, he exhales into her tousled hair. “Christ, darlin’, you had me losin’ my damn mind.” He kisses her brow. Grimaces. “That was fast. I’m sorry.”
“You’ve been waiting awhile,” Sal murmurs, idly turning the wedding band on Luke’s finger. “No apologies.”
His eyes cloud, noting her lack of a wedding ring. He needs to fix that. Soon.
Luke brings her hand to his mouth. Presses a kiss to her wrist. To her heartbeat.
“I love you Sal,” he whispers.
She smiles. “This.” She lets out a dreamy little sigh and places a hand over Luke’s heart. “So far, this is my favorite memory ever.”
Luke meets Sal’s eyes and grins. “Mine too.”
Her words are like a promise of the future. A promise of them. Of second chances.
Luke’s gonna hold tight to that. Tight to Sal. And he’s gonna make every minute count.