I’m so consumed with desire, the only thing I want to do is spill myself inside Shayla. But I also want to savor every inch of her. Prove I’m not the selfish bastard she’s believed me to be for all these years. Tonight, I can’t disappoint her. I make up my mind to start out tenderly.

Soft caresses.

Tantalizing kisses.

Build up to the climax.

Plunge in deep.

Dragging my mouth from hers, I pull her long T-shirt over her head, exposing her firm breasts and creamy thighs. She’s wearing panties, but no bra. Her skin is smooth and unblemished. Once again, I’m struck by how much her body has filled out in all the right places.

I glide my palms down her hourglass waist, stroking her wide hips. “Damn, baby. Your body is beautiful. I don’t remember all these curves.”

“Courtesy of all those late-night sessions with Ben & Jerry’s ice cream.”

“Tomorrow, I’m buying stock in their company. I owe them big time.”

Her throaty giggle floats through the air. Crazy how a simple, little thing like laughter can turn me on. To me it’s more than a laugh. When Shayla laughs it means she’s happy. That’s all I want for her—happiness.

I trail a finger from her collarbone to her cleavage. Her satiny skin lures me. I need to feel her flesh beneath every one of my fingertips. I cup her firm, lush breasts in my palms, gently kneading them. My thumbs brush her areolas before meeting with my forefingers to softly pinch her puckered nipples.

Shayla’s moan of pleasure grips my dick and squeezes. Even after nearly a decade, the intensity of my attraction for her burns like hot embers itching to be reignited.

My tongue demands to take the same journey as my mouth. I kiss her silky flesh. Her skin tastes fresh. Hints of her perfume tease my nostrils. I mercilessly feast on each breast. My tongue flicks over her hard nipples, lavishing each one with attention, and rolling the distended buds between my teeth.

Dipping my head, I rain kisses down her stomach toward her abdomen. I’m fueled by a need to kiss every inch of her. There’s only one thing in my way: these damn panties. Hooking a scalloped edge beneath my index finger, I pull the lacy material down to reveal a tattoo resting just below her bikini line. A red heart with a black arrow piercing the middle.

I’d noticed it the other night when I barged into her bedroom unannounced, and was rewarded with the sight of her naked body. Ever since, I’d fantasized about tracing the outline of that heart with my tongue. I press kisses against it before giving into the fantasy. Sinking to the floor, my mouth blazes a path toward her pussy. My knees don’t complain about the hardwoods. My brain and my dick know I’m on a mission to pleasure the woman I love.

I nibble my way past her hips and smooth thighs. Her tempting dark curls are neatly trimmed into a v-shaped bush. Nudging her legs apart, I drag the tip of my tongue across the exposed bud of her clitoris. She gasps, clenching fistfuls of my hair.

My erection swells. “Damn, baby,” I praise her. “You taste good.”

She arches her back, thrusting her pelvis against my mouth. “Oh, God.”

I gently lick the sensitive nub in slow, languid strokes. She moves her hips back and forth, making it easier for me to bring her pleasure. I suck her pussy just the way I remember she likes it, pulling with gentle, pulsating motions.

I spread her sensitive lips apart with my thumb and forefinger, granting better access to the swollen nub. Then I swirl my tongue in a circular motion.

Shayla coos. “Ooh…feels so…good.”

I keep licking, working into a rhythm, sliding my tongue back and forth, smoothly darting in and out of the luscious pink folds between her legs.

Her fingernails dig deep into the hard muscles of my shoulders, but I don’t stop. I grip her hips firmly, holding her in place while I pleasure her with my mouth. I know the art of going downtown. I want only the ultimate satisfaction for Shayla.

Thrusting a finger inside her, I probe deep against her slick walls. She gasps, arching against my hand. I thrust another finger inside. The muscles of her pussy grip both, coating my fingers with her essence. My dick is a granite dragon, straining to break free and unleash its hunger.

Not yet.

I keep up a steady rhythm, relentlessly fondling her and plunging my tongue inside her. I grip the soft globes of her ass in my palms as my mouth savors the salty taste of her. She still tastes like I remember.

“Yes! Yes!” she screams as my tongue thrusts in and out with deep strokes. Minutes later, when she screams her pleasure, I know I haven’t lost my touch.

As she floats back to earth, I kiss the insides of each of her thighs. All I can think of is that this is my woman. I don’t want anyone else to have her. I don’t want to give her any excuse to look elsewhere. I’m going to be everything she needs and then some.

I probably should give her more time to bask in the glory of her orgasm, but I can’t wait another minute. I need to be inside her or I’ll implode.

I sweep her into my arms and within moments, we’re on the bed. Her legs wrap around me. Her delicate fingers stroke my back. My dick jumps in anticipation. Everything about her excites me. The soft erotic sounds she makes. The way she writhes beneath me. Her smooth, sleek skin against mine.

Suddenly, I’m nervous as hell. Will my lovemaking skills match up to the man she knew over a decade ago?

I reach into the nightstand drawer for protection. Yes, we’re married, but I don’t want to make assumptions. I’ve been tested for everything under the sun. I know I’m clean. But we’ve never discussed safe sex, and I sure as hell don’t want to ruin the moment by bringing it up now.

“Wait.” Though her eyelids are heavy with passion, I wonder if she’ll put the brakes on this. My heart ricochets as her pause stretches into excruciating seconds. Whatever she wants, I’ll give it to her. That’s how much I love her. “I want to see you. All of you.”

Thank you, Lord.

Is it wrong to thank God because my wife wants to see me naked? I don’t think so. God knows wassup. I stand and remove my button-down and jeans slowly, in a strip-tease fashion, hoping Shayla is as turned on by me as I am by her. Seconds later, I shuck my boxers.

“Impressive,” she murmurs as her eyes slide across my naked body from stem to stern.

“Thank you. One of the benefits of playing football.”

She smiles. “I’m not referring to your physique. I’m referring to your flag on the field.” She zeroes in on my manhood, which is saluting her as though she’s my commanding officer.

“Oh this? This is a gift for my wife.” I bend down and kiss her tenderly.

“Umm. The gift that keeps on giving.”

“Yep. It comes with a lifetime supply of fidelity.”

Our gazes meet. Her eyes search mine. “You mean that, Colt?”

Shayla used to be able to read me like no one else. I hope she can still do this. Sense my honesty. Know that I’m true. “Yes. I’m committed to you, Shayla. To us. There’s no other woman for me.”

“In that case, I’m ready for my present right now.”