“Probably not, but the wrestling around part would be fun.”

He laughs and smiles tenderly at me.

And now, for his other present.

“So, before we were so rudely interrupted, I was going to give you a present when you got out of the shower.”

His eyebrows fly up. “You got me a present?”

“Sort of, yes.” I’m wearing a bathing suit cover-up that is quite conservative, in black. It’s a hoodie-style that zips up the front and covers me from my knees to my neck.

I step back out of Luke’s grasp and begin pulling the zipper slowly down, keeping the fabric closed. When the zipper is completely undone, I shrug the fabric off my shoulders so it pools at my feet.

Luke gasps and his eyes widen, finding mine, and his face breaks out into a face-splitting grin. I plant my hands on my naked hips and cock my head to the side. “Do you like my outfit?”

He walks to me and runs his fingers under my pearls and kisses me in that tender way he has and I feel my knees go weak.

“Baby, you know I love this outfit.

There is nothing like looking at you wearing nothing but these pearls.”

“I love the way you look at me,” I whisper.

Luke’s eyes skim hungrily down my body and when his gaze returns to mine he kisses me tenderly.

“I don’t want to fuck you today, Natalie,” he whispers against my lips.

Oh. “You don’t?” I whisper back and roll my head back, as his lips wander down my neck.

“No.”

“I love your whispery voice.”

He grins. “I know.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to make slow, sweet love to you.” His fingertips are just barely touching me, brushing up and down my back, sending shivers through me, and his lips mirror them on my neck. It’s sensation gone mad.

“That sounds lovely.”

He lifts me in his arms and I wrap my fingers in his hair as my lips find his in a soft kiss. He gently lowers me onto the bed and covers me with his body, his legs between mine. He glides his right hand up my left arm and links our fingers, but instead of holding them above my head he simply rests them on the bed next to my head.

This isn’t about restraining me, or playing with me. This is about him showing me how much he loves me, and it fills me with so much strength and reassurance and tenderness.

He runs the fingers of his left hand through the hair by my face as he continues to kiss me, softly, gently, patiently. I rest the bottoms of my feet on his calves, rubbing up and down, caressing him, as I thrum the fingertips of my free hand up and down his strong back.

I can feel his hardness against me, but he makes no move to sink inside me.

Not yet.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs against my lips.

“You make me feel beautiful,” I whisper to him and he groans.

He plants tiny kisses at the side of my mouth. I weave my fingers into his hair and gently caress him.

“I love your hair. It feels so good in my fingers.”

“I figured that,” he whispers and I feel him smile against my neck. “You always have your hands in it.”

“Don’t ever cut it short, please.” I love hearing his whispery voice.

“Okay.” He kisses my earlobe and tickles it with his teeth. “You have amazing skin; so smooth and soft. And you always smell so good.”

His words are seductive, his hand is still moving in my hair and my body is humming.

My hips start to move beneath him and I feel his grin at my throat. “You know what you do to me.”

“You do the same to me, baby.” He flexes his hips, pushing his cock against my wet center. The tip slides against my clitoris and I gasp.

“I want you.”

“I know. I want you too.” I love the whispers, the soft sighs and gasps. This is the quietest our lovemaking has ever been, and it’s no less intoxicating.

Oh so slowly he begins to fill me, one delightful inch at a time, until he’s buried as far as he can go. He fills me up, physically, emotionally and I feel tears roll from the sides of my eyes.

This sweet, protective, kind, sexy man loves me. And I love him, oh so much.

“Don’t cry, baby.” His whispered voice is rough with emotion and he starts to slowly move, in and out of me. My legs hitch up higher around his hips, taking him in even deeper, and as he hits that most sensitive spot I feel sparks begin to fly through me.

“Oh, I’m gonna come, my love.”

“Yes,” he whispers in my ear, and I am lost, my orgasm consuming me, but I barely make a sound, caught up in our quiet lovemaking.

Luke stills, pushes into me one last time and empties himself into me, whispering my name.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I’ve decided that being back in the real world does not suck.

We’ve been home from our romantic Tahitian getaway for a week, and we have fallen into a comfortable routine of work,

flirty

texts

throughout

the

workday, hitting the gym or yoga together and alternating between his place and mine at night.

Tonight, we’re staying at my place, and we’re having dinner with Jules.

“That is not how you cook pasta!”

Jules looks beautiful, as usual, as she glares at my boyfriend and I smirk.

“How the hell do you do it?” Luke is thoroughly frustrated with her and I’m sitting back with a glass of wine enjoying the show.

“You have to put the salt in the water before it comes to a boil. Everyone knows that.”