Winter's hands attentively moved over Kalix's upper body, careful to avoid the bandage that wrapped around his side. Her touch was gentle and deliberate, skimming over every defined muscle with care. But the moment she realized it was time to move lower, her throat went dry.
Her eyes paused, landing on the thick length that had hardened—unyielding and unapologetic. And the second her hand drifted past his waist, it twitched.
She instinctively looked up at Kalix. He had been unbelievably quiet, but the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes burned through her, told her everything. Her mere touch was slowly awakening the beast within him.
Every brush of her fingers sent his muscles rippling under her palm. He was holding back—but just barely.
He had made his intentions clear since the beginning. He didn't push. He waited, biding his time for the moment his wife would finally give his throbbing need the attention it craved.
