The him I saw was every inch of the man I loved, my Prince Charming, my knight, and my husband.
Apparently, Reid hadn’t heard me with his concentration on the gauze and other dressings.
If I mentally took away those bandages, my husband was standing in front of the vanity as I was beneath my robe, nude. For a moment, I marveled at his muscles, the way they flexed in his arms, legs, and his tight ass. I even marveled at his resting penis. My gaze lingered a bit too long, my mind and body recalling his capabilities in that particular area of his expertise.
I wasn’t certain what my specialty was, but I knew that I lacked artistic ability in the sense of drawings, paintings, or sculpture. And still as I slid my bottom lip beneath my teeth and stared, I imagined how a talented artist would draw this man, the one who I’d been given back from the jaws of death. No doubt, that talented individual would concentrate on each feature much as Michelangelo did when he created David.
“Fuck,” Reid mumbled as the clip he’d been about to place on the exterior bandage fell with a clank to the bathroom floor.
As I opened the door farther, my husband’s dark eyes met mine as he was about to crouch down to rescue the lone clip. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t. Let me,” I said as I brushed my lips over his, immediately noticing the fresh mint taste masking his one or two cups of coffee I was certain he’d already consumed. I knelt to retrieve the clip. It was as I looked upward that my breath hitched and my core woke with a twist.
“Lorna.”
A grin came to my lips as I stared upward. The cock that moments ago had been at rest grew before me with little provocation on my part. I retrieved the clip and placed it on the counter. Still on my knees, I ran my hands over his muscular thighs, reveling in the strength they were capable of yielding while relishing that he was still here with me. “I almost lost you.”
“You didn’t,” he replied, his voice now thick with the possible concoction of desire and anticipation. That mixture swirled in an intoxicating fog around us.
Peering up, I noticed the way his wide chest moved with each breath. With one hand, he grasped the edge of the vanity while the other remained at his side. The air around us snapped and crackled with electricity.
In that moment, I had an idea how Reid had felt when he brought me home from Montana. There was nothing I wanted more than to run my tongue over his velvety skin, to lick the gleam from the tip of his thickening rod, and take him as far as I possibly could between my lips until he came undone at my doing. However, the bandages I’d looked beyond were nonetheless present. He had been injured.
According to Dr. Dixon, his heart had stopped.
I looked up until Reid’s dark gaze met mine. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Fuck, Lorna.”
Licking my lips, I waited for an indication from him, encouraging my intended path or dissuading me. I was ready for either, and as we stayed as we were with me kneeling before him and his intense gaze on me, I realized I wasn’t to receive either.
The decision to proceed or stop was mine and mine alone.
Sticking out my tongue, I ran it all the way from the dewy tip to his curly dark hair. My hands moved around him, and my fingers grasped his ass. Again, I licked, his cock twitching. Over and over, I simply licked, slow and steady, as beneath the wet warmth of my tongue, his cock grew until it jutted toward me, the skin stretched and lined with veins.
“Tell me to stop if this is bad,” I said, again looking up with my veiled gaze.
“Shit, Lorna, bad isn’t even close.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re fucking killing me.”
I sucked in a breath. “What?”
Reid reached down and with his thumb and forefinger pinched my chin before lifting it upward. “Sweetheart, I love you, but if you move any slower, I’m going to come all over this floor.”
It was the encouragement I wanted, the knowledge that this Greek god of a man was mine for the taking.
With a deep breath, I opened my mouth, sheathing my teeth with my lips and took him deep. At the same time, I wrapped my fingers around his base and worked my mouth and hands in unison.
Deep, guttural curses and moans resonated through the bathroom, bouncing off the colorful tile while I too added sounds and wanton whimpers to the chorus. Though Reid still hadn’t touched me, my nipples were as hard as diamonds, and my core was painfully twisted and thoroughly drenched.
My knees scooted and I fidgeted with unspoken need as I pulled him closer, his cock teasing the back of my throat. With my other hand, I rolled his tightened balls as I bobbed my head faster, my lips running up and down his length.
The muscles in his thighs and ass tightened as finally his hand came to the back of my head.
“Shit, sweetheart...”
I didn’t stop or slow as I added my tongue to the mix until his hips began to piston against me. If our sounds and noises were a performance of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, we’d reached the crescendo. Reid’s muffled roar came in time as his body shuddered and warm liquid filled my mouth.
The familiar salty taste was welcome as I swallowed what he had to give me.
It was as I looked up that my husband’s expression took me by surprise. Instead of satisfaction, there were lines of concern near his eyes, his nostrils flared, and there was an uneven tenseness to his lips.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I stood, licking my lips.
Reid’s large hands came to my cheeks. “Are you?”
I searched his gaze for understanding, but I was lost. “I don’t know what you mean. You’re the one who was hurt. You came. Was something wrong?”
The brown surrounding his dilated pupils swirled with specks of golden emotions I couldn’t identify as his unwavering stare searched my own. “Never wrong, Lorna. You’re fucking perfect.”
I laid my hand gently over his chest. “Is it your heart?”
His grasp of my cheeks tightened as he held my gaze to his. “It’s my heart. You own every fucking piece of it, and right now I am terrified to hurt or upset you.”
I tried to shake my head, yet his solid grasp gave little room. “Reid, you’re not hurting me. I’ve healed.” It was true. My injuries from a few weeks ago were either on the mend or mended. Yet I could see there was something he wasn’t saying. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I fucking did, Lorna. I think you’re the most amazing woman in this godforsaken world, and I love you more than life itself.”
I reached for his shoulders. “I love you too, so why does this feel weird?”
He gestured toward the floor. “That was what he made you do, wasn’t it?”
He.
Mr. Maples.
My breath caught in my chest as my eyes opened wider. “Yes, if you must know. Yes, it was.”
Reid head shook. “I don’t want to remind you—”
“You hadn’t until a second ago.” I lifted myself to my tiptoes until our lips met. I didn’t stop until mine were parted and our tongues danced to a new slower melody. A soft moan escaped my lips as Reid’s fingers twisted in my hair and my body melded to his. When we pulled away, I smiled. “You aren’t him. You never have been. That” —I gestured toward the floor— “wasn’t because you told me to do it or demanded that I do. Fuck, Reid, I like being close with you. I like your cock throbbing in my mouth. Maybe I’m no better than Nancy. Maybe that makes me some kind of whor—”