Chapter Eighteen

LUKAS HAD THE MOST honorable intentions at first.

As he watched his wife gradually lose consciousness in the aftermath of her climax, he vowed to himself that he would allow her body to rest and fully recover.

And for a few hours, he managed to keep his promise. He took care not to wake her as he pulled out. Took a cold shower when his body remained hard and hungry. He did everything possible to keep himself from disturbing her, but when a knock from the nanny had his wife out of bed and sleepily breastfeeding their son—-

I want her again.

Need her.

Now.

Lukas gave Julie leave to retire for the night and slowly closed the door behind him. He already knew what he wanted as he turned back to face his wife, and the rosy tint of her cheeks as her gaze collided with his told him that she, too, was thinking of the same thing.

Lukas made his move as soon as their boy was back in his bed. He had her up against the wall in no time, her legs locked around his waist, and his mouth fiercely latching to one nipple as a starving man would.

He was patient and methodical even in his hunger, and so he soon had what he desired. Her fingers gripped his hair as her sweet milk poured into his mouth, and he lapped it all up like a man who had thirsted for an eternity.

Desire as he had never experienced raged inside of him, and his length sprang up against her belly.

In one moment, he had straightened to his full height and his manhood sheathed deep into her throbbing moistness.

His gaze locked with hers as he thrust in and out of her at a maddeningly slow pace. Her eyes begged him to take her hard and fast, but still he tortured her with his unhurried thrusts. He wanted her completely out of her mind with desire for him, and it was only when she started rubbing her body uncontrollably against his that he finally gave her what they both wanted.

Lukas swiftly carried her to the en-suite and had enough self-control to quietly close the door so as not to wake their son. But as soon as he had Betsy on her feet, he had her bent over the stone countertop and he was thrusting back into her from behind.

He covered her mouth when she was about to cry out, and his own body felt as if it was about to explode as he watched his wife's every reaction to his thrusts.

She was looking at him as if he was her every dream come true, and fuuuuuuuck.

He bit into her shoulder to keep his own growls in check as he came inside of her, and she sobbed against the palm of his hand as her own orgasm took her over the edge.

It seemed to last for an eternity.

But at the same time, it didn't seem long enough.

And when they both regained their breaths, and their gazes met through their reflection in the mirror—-

What he saw nearly had him cursing.

"Don't," he gritted out.

A helpless smile touched her lips. "I haven't said anything yet."

"Good. Let's keep it that way—-"

"You don't have to say it back."

"Just don't.."

But his warning tone seemed not to be a warning enough for his wife.

"You really don't have to. I mean it. I just need to say it—-"

"No."

"Thank you," she said sweetly.

He stared at her in exasperation. "I just said don't—-"

"I love you."

"—-say that," he ended rather blankly, since her words made him feel as if his whole being had been incinerated and reborn in a single second.

"I love you."

"Or keep repeating it."

But this only had his wife laughing, and as soon as they were back in the privacy of their bedroom, she chose to show her stubborn side by snuggling up against his side as she said the words over and over.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

"I get it," he muttered under his breath. "So stop saying it, dammit."

His wife pressed her lips to his heart, and Lukas clenched his teeth.

"You'll see." Betsy's voice was brimming with confidence. "You'll love me back sooner or later."

A full hour passed, and his wife was already fast asleep in his arms when Lukas finally answered her.

"I think I already do."