her again, to feel him fill her, complete her the way she now gloriously remembered. When his hands skimmed down to the waistband of her jeans she sighed in relief. He unsnapped her fly and pushed the denim away from her hips and down her legs.
He dipped his head lower again, his tongue dancing a tantalising line across the waistband of her panties, his hands now sliding beneath her buttocks, kneading the globes of flesh as he tilted her hips up. The contrast between the firmness of his hands and the enticing featherlight touch of his tongue as he tormented her with tiny touches sent her wild. At the tiny hollow at the top of her thighs, in the curve of her hips—everywhere but where she craved him most.
Then, gloriously, his mouth was suddenly, hotly against her. The warmth of his breath through her panties made her arch her back as sensation roared through her. She pressed against his mouth, her head thrashing from side to side, words tumbling from her lips begging him for more. His hand twisted in her underwear, tearing the fabric away from her body, baring her to his touch.
The contrast in sensation between the breeze that swept around them and the heat of his mouth as he closed over her sent a piercing shaft of desire through her. As his tongue swirled over her, at first softly then with increasing pressure, she clutched at the blankets beneath her. Her thighs trembled, and her inner muscles clenched in rhythm with his onslaught until, with a scream that tore from her throat, she went hurtling over the edge.
Luc shifted and Belinda, too boneless to do anything but watch, lay before him—her legs splayed, her skin flushed with orgasm—as he pulled off his shirt and shucked off his jeans and briefs. There was a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Framed by his short dark lashes, they gleamed with the heat of his need for her. A need that spiralled again within her, within seconds, as if she hadn’t just climaxed moments before. As he positioned himself between her thighs again, a tremor of anticipation shivered along her spine.
“My wife.” His voice was low pitched, almost guttural.
She could feel the heat of him, his blunt tip teasing her as he hesitated at her entrance.
“Luc, please,” she begged, “please!”
He plunged inside her, driving himself to the hilt, and she hooked her legs around his waist, tilting her hips higher to take him in more deeply. She clung to his shoulders, near mindless with bliss as he slowly withdrew then entered her again, repeating the motion with increasing urgency until she felt him tense and shake, every muscle straining, holding back his climax. He slid one hand between them, where they were joined, before sliding his thumb across her hooded bundle of nerve endings. At his touch she felt the ripple begin within her again, this time with an even more urgent edge than before, and she clenched against him, her hips rising to meet his, forcing him to increase the pressure against her until she fractured apart. As the waves of pleasure undulated through her body, she felt his muscles bunch beneath her hands, heard his raw groan of completion as he shuddered against her over and over as the paroxysms of his pleasure rocked his body.
When he collapsed against her, Belinda could barely breathe, but she welcomed his weight, his total possession. This was how it had been between them—she knew it at a level that was soul deep. She could begin to thank her lucky stars that her memory of this link between them had returned, and from here who knew what would come to her next.
But for now, she decided as she stroked her hand down the line of Luc’s spine and over his buttocks, she’d relish every second of this reunion.
Luc waited for the racing beat of his heart to slow, for clarity to return to his brain. He’d been so overwhelmed by the power of his response to her he’d barely been able to think, but now he realised he was crushing Belinda. He rolled off her and wrapped his arm about her slender waist, dragging her half over his body as he did so. Her long dark hair spread like a silken cloak across his chest. He inhaled deeply, relishing their comingled scents.
This had turned out far better than he’d anticipated. He’d expected some flashes of memory, some insights into their past, but he’d never expected her to remember their lovemaking so vividly. He’d been prepared to do whatever it took to get his wife back into his life—the life he’d carved out of nothing, the life he’d vowed would be his one day—and he’d succeeded. It didn’t matter to him now if she remembered nothing else. If anything it would probably make life easier for them both.
He listened as Belinda’s breathing deepened, as she slid into sleep and he smiled—a grim smile of satisfaction. Their accident had been a short-term derailment of his plan. He was back on track, better than before.
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