neck and presses his waist between my thighs. “Feck the drink, Chevelle. This right here is a ten. This is a ten. And this . . .” His mouth keeps pressing down on mine, tongue sweet and delectable. Our moans are synchronized.
Teasing, I press my sex to his thick waist, satiated by his warmth. “Leith, be serious.”
“This is a ten, but yer pussy is a pot o’ gold.” Leith closes the distance between us.
“Hey, pot of gold?” I muster the words, half entranced by his love. The soft swoosh of Leith’s breath across my skin has made me dizzy with desire. “You usually recycle jokes, but that one sounds a little Irish.”
“Aye? I’ve loved ye a lifetime. A guy is bound to run out of jokes.” He unloops my overalls one at a time. My mouth falls open, hypnotized by the stroke of his tongue as he pushes my shirt up. “This . . . I have no bloody words, Chevelle. My heart is in there.” His voice grows husky, more Scottish, as he says, “Ye stole my entire heart, hen, placed it right in there with yer own.”
His lips clamp on my nipple, his hand clasping around my breast as he suckles. “Ye will keep my heart safe for me, Chevelle, forever.” This is a game we play. In a voice as soft as honey, as deep as the groan of a lion, he says, “Keep my heart safe for me, Chevelle MacKenzie.”
I feel his love from the depth of my soul every second in his presence.
“Mmmm. . . .” We’re years into this love story, and I’m still love-struck. Dizzy, I tell him, “Say it again.”
“Chevelle MacKenzie.”
“I’ll keep your heart safe,” I murmur, “guard it with my own. Forever and a day.” All the synapses in my brain fire off, causing a major power outage. There go my questions. All I have is a primal need for Leith MacKenzie.
An incendiary heat sparks in my core and spreads across the surface of my skin. Voice filled with desperation, I beg, “Leith, baby, oh, I love you. I need you.”
Leith peels away the layers of fabric separating my skin from his penetrating gaze. With one arm, he lifts me just long enough to snatch the overalls from me and doesn’t even attempt to save my silk thong. The material shreds from my skin, and my legs are pressed wide against the cool, marble countertop. Leaning my head back against the marble backsplash, I tremble as Leith’s kisses scorch along my hips and over the thickness of my thighs. He laps my nub. With tears stinging my eyes, my fingers curl into his hair. Pleasure flies down my spine, and my legs fly up and over his shoulders.
My husband eats me with the dedication of a beast. He signs his name over every inch of my sex, compelling mini orgasms to pop off like fireworks.
Heart in my throat, I relish in our connection as he climbs back up, thick lips glossed so deliciously.
With staggering speed, my legs clamor around his waist. When he glides in, my eyelids shut, and a peaceful hum slips through my lips. His touch leaves me hot and bothered, scorched from the inside out.
“Yes, yes, yessss!” I holler as Leith pistons inside of me, hips moving savagely. After a week away, our bodies tether on the same wavelength. We need it quick; we need it hard. All the sappy shit can and will come later. But now, we’re fighting for a climax. My fingers claw into his ass. His movements become more erratic, and his cock pummels my core.
“Leith!” I screech when my husband drives so deep into my body that I see stars. I purr, wet walls clinching him as he throbs with release. He leans into me for a few long moments. When Leith’s eyes shade, promising round two all too soon, I huff.
Damn, I almost wonder if I look like a wildebeest all out of breath while he’s the one who exerted more energy. But the way Leith stares at me brings a memory from the one poetry class I took at community college, a poem by Atticus.
“Young love like drugs left us chasing first highs.”
Knowing I’ll never forget how Leith’s eyes settled on mine the first time he called me ‘hen,’ a blush ignites across my skin.
Leith rests his palm between my heaving breasts. “I can’t have ye dying for me when I’m supposed to die for ye.”