fallen asleep. Yet the clock told me it had been almost an hour, an hour of bliss with no thoughts or dreams. As I made the journey into consciousness, I noticed the light streaming from beneath our bathroom door.
Throwing back the covers, I wrapped my robe from a nearby chair around me and with bare feet, padded across our bedroom. With a slight push of the door, I had the perfect view of the man inside. I could concentrate on the bandages around his torso, the ones Dr. Dixon told him not to get wet, or the wound on his arm, the one he was now dressing with fresh gauze. Instead, I did as I’d asked him to do for me weeks ago and looked past his injuries and saw him.
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