Prologue

Lucy wakes up with a start. Moon light comes through the window, bathing her bed in a soft glow. She casts a glance over to the other side of the bed, finding it surprisingly empty. Brea isn’t there. It doesn’t even look like has even been to bed. With a sigh, Lucy feels lonelier than ever. Brea isn’t supposed to be gone; she isn’t supposed to leave Lucy alone. Lucy begins to thinks awful thoughts, the same thoughts she had a year ago when suddenly she feels a hand touch her. Her head snaps around and she expects to see Brea standing there, but she isn’t—no one is. When Lucy looks back to the empty side of the bed, her eyes go wide.

There he is—Lucy’s husband! He is just inches away from her. His smell fills her nose. She opens her mouth to speak and she can hear him shush her, though nothing meets her ears. His hand glides up her side on top of the covers, lighting a trail of fire through her body. Lucy moans against her will, her eyes drifting almost closed. Then he is there, his mouth gentle and firm on hers. She kisses him back without thinking and the kiss becomes fiercer, nipping at each other’s lips. His hands wrap around her, pulling her closer to him and pressing her breasts tight to his chest.

The covers suddenly seem so confining. He agrees and pushes her away for a moment. Then he rips them aside, tossing them to the floor. His eyes settle on Lucy lying on her back with her shirt—his shirt—pushed up her legs, nearly exposing her. She can feel his hunger, his want. He slides up onto his knees, reaching up to tear his shirt over his head, his hair disheveled.

Still staring into his wife’s eyes, he reaches down and slides his hand up and over her legs, touching every inch. A moan sounds in Lucy’s mind as he feels their smoothness, memorizing every curve and bend. Lucy is putty in his hands, letting him part her legs slightly when he moves between them. His eyes never leave hers, his smile never falters. That smile that she has missed so much sends tremors through her just as his hands did.

His eyes finally leave Lucy’s to glide over her body while he delicately takes the bottom of the shirt and lifts it higher and higher, pulling it over her head. Lucy’s arms move up to allow him to remove it completely, tossing it to join the sheets on the floor. Then he is staring at her again, but this time it’s harder. She can feel his gaze on her skin. His hands slowly wind through her hair, down her shoulders, over her breasts. They lightly teas her nipples for a moment before continuing lower and lower to skirt her crotch. They end up on her inner thighs, causing her to suck in a breath. He taunts her by not touching her where she so desperately wants him to touch.

Lucy blinks and in that brief moment he moves. Suddenly his mouth lands on her clit, his tongue reaching out to encircle it. Lucy moans loudly, her hands tentatively moving down to dance into his hair, almost surprised that he is there to touch. He sucks gently on her before moving to slip his tongue deep inside, tasting every inch that he can reach. Lucy clutches him tightly, her hips grinding up against his face, her head thrashing from side to side. The woman’s moans come more and more frequently now. And she finds herself climaxing with such intensity that almost causes her to pass out. Her husband’s tongue reaches inside her again, licking harder and harder, extending her orgasm until the darkness begins threatening to take over. Her back arches higher and higher until she is unable to even moan anymore.