The electric slide of her knuckles against his abdomen sent a violent, involuntary shudder through his heavy frame, instantly shattering the last fragile remnants of his careful restraint. When the cotton of his shirt bunched tightly across his chest under the frantic, upward pull of her hands, Jack broke their kiss with a ragged, oxygen-starved gasp. He braced his thick forearms on either side of her shoulders, shifting his considerable weight just enough to allow the garment to clear his torso. Catching the collar in one large hand, he ripped the shirt over his head in a blind, impatient sweep, tossing it into the dark corner of the room. The cooler ambient air of the bedroom hit his bare, overheated skin, but it did absolutely nothing to extinguish the blistering heat she had just ignited in his blood. Looking down at her flushed, deeply shadowed face against the pillows, he felt a surge of absolute reverence collide directly with a dark, territorial hunger. She had asked him to remember them, to find the woman beneath the mother, but staring at the fierce, unapologetic demand in her eyes, he knew he had never forgotten a single inch of her.

He came back down to her with deliberate, agonizing slowness, letting the full, unyielding reality of his body press heavily into hers. The mattress groaned softly beneath them, a quiet, domestic sound that was instantly swallowed by the harsh rasp of his breathing. When his bare chest finally settled against the soft fabric of her shirt, the damp patch from Rhett’s bathwater registered against his heated skin like a jarring alarm, an intolerable barrier keeping him from the absolute sanctuary of her touch. A low, rough sound of frustration vibrated deep in his throat. He shifted his hips, wedging a thick thigh between her knees to anchor her to the center of the bed, while his large hands swept frantically down the delicate curve of her sides. He found the hem of her damp shirt and gripped it tight, his rough, callused thumbs brushing the incredibly soft, warm skin of her waist. The sheer contrast between his battle-worn hands and her delicate warmth grounded him in a way the entire evening had been building toward, centering his fragmented mind entirely on the woman beneath him.

He pushed the fabric upward in a single, fluid motion, exposing the pale, smooth expanse of her stomach to the dim light spilling through the cracked doorway. Bending his head, Jack replaced the damp cotton with the hot, open slide of his mouth, pressing a deep, lingering kiss just beneath her ribs. He felt her breath hitch wildly, her stomach muscles jumping beneath his lips, and the undeniable physical proof of his effect on her sent a localized, heavy rush of pure adrenaline straight to his groin. He traced the warm line of her skin with his tongue, moving slowly upward as his hands continued to push her shirt out of the way, practically tearing the fabric in his desperate need to strip away the domestic evening and uncover his wife. He didn't stop until he had pushed the shirt and the lace beneath it entirely up, his broad chest finally sliding flush against the exquisite, bare heat of her breasts. The sudden skin-to-skin contact was a physical shock, a perfect, agonizing friction that drew a deep, involuntary groan from the very bottom of his lungs.

He remained intensely aware of the open door, of the artificial rain machine humming softly down the hall, and that deeply ingrained, protective instinct forced him to swallow the louder, rougher sounds that wanted to tear out of his throat. Instead, he channeled every ounce of that feral energy into his hands and his mouth. His fingers tangled deeply into the soft, heavy waves of her hair, tilting her head back to expose the elegant line of her throat. He pressed his mouth against her pulse point, feeling the frantic, hammering beat of her heart against his lips, tasting the faint salt and lingering vanilla on her skin. He bit gently down on the tender muscle where her neck met her shoulder, soothing the mild, possessive sting instantly with a wet, heavy swirl of his tongue. He wanted to consume her entirely, to sink into the warmth of her body until the memory of Ridgeway and the heavy mantle of his rank were permanently erased. Moving upward, he captured her mouth again, this time with a slow, devastating thoroughness, letting his tongue slide deep into her warmth, exploring her with a dark, rhythmic heat that perfectly mirrored exactly what he was about to do to her.

The frantic, demanding slide of her tongue against his shattered his remaining patience for the tangled barrier of clothing still trapped around her shoulders. Breaking the kiss with a harsh, ragged pull of breath, Jack dragged himself upward just enough to free her arms. He caught the bunched fabric of her shirt and the lace beneath it, pulling them completely over her head in one swift, decisive motion before discarding them somewhere in the dark. Stripped of the damp cotton, she lay completely bare beneath him in the dim, fractured light spilling from the hallway. He stopped for a fraction of a second, his massive chest heaving as his eyes swept over the soft, familiar slope of her shoulders, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, and the flush of heat coloring her skin. She was stunning—not in the fragile, untested way she had been at twenty-three, but in a profound, devastating way that carried the physical evidence of their life together. The fierce, unapologetic confidence radiating from her pinned him to the mattress far more effectively than gravity ever could.

A low, involuntary sound of absolute worship tore from his throat. Jack lowered himself back down, bypassing her mouth to bury his face against the warm, heavy curve of her breast. He opened his mouth over the peaking center, drawing her in with a wet, pulling heat that was intentionally slow and incredibly thorough. When her spine arched off the mattress, a breathless, fractured whimper slipping past her lips, he felt a violent surge of masculine pride crash through his veins. He knew the exact volume she was capable of, and the way she bit down on her own lip to muffle the sound for the sake of the sleeping children in the adjacent rooms sent a dark, thrilling shiver straight down his spine. He soothed the delicate skin with the flat of his tongue, nipping gently with his teeth before laving the sting away, feeling the wild, uncontrolled flutter of her heartbeat directly against his cheek.

His right hand abandoned the soft indentation of her waist, sliding downward with heavy, deliberate intent to find the button of her pants. The metal gave way under his callused thumb with a quiet, metallic click that sounded deafening in the charged quiet of the bedroom. As he dragged the zipper down, the back of his knuckles brushed against the thin silk of her underwear and the scorching heat radiating from her center. The casual, domestic woman who had bathed their son twenty minutes ago was entirely gone, replaced by a searing, desperate heat that was currently melting him down to the studs. Jack gripped the waistband of her pants, his thick forearm cording with tension as he dragged them down her hips and over her thighs, tossing them off the edge of the bed until she was left wearing nothing but a scrap of silk.

The removal of the barrier allowed his own heavy, denim-clad hips to settle firmly into the cradle of her thighs. The agonizing friction of her soft heat pressing directly against the thick, aching ridge of his arousal drew a harsh groan from his chest, the sound vibrating against her ribs. He wanted to strip away his own remaining clothes and bury himself so deeply inside her that he forgot his own name, but the promise she had made in the hallway—*we'll remember to find each other*—acted as an iron chain on his restraint. He wasn’t going to rush this. He wanted to feel every single second of her unraveling.

He shifted his weight, freeing one of his hands to trace the shallow dip of her navel before slipping his hand beneath the damp edge of the silk. The sheer, overwhelming reality of how ready she was—so incredibly wet and yielding—drew a slow, shaking exhale from his chest. His eyes darkened to pitch as he lifted his head to look at her. Holding her gaze, he pressed upward, sliding his long, callused fingers deep inside her slick heat. He watched the breath completely leave her lungs. Her head tipped back into the pillows, a fractured gasp escaping her lips as her body clamped instinctively around his hand, her fingers twisting violently into the sheets beside her hips. He leaned in, capturing her mouth in a slow, deeply filthy kiss, letting the wet, open slide of his tongue perfectly mimic the heavy, rhythmic thrust of his fingers inside her, entirely devoted to making his wife fall apart in the dark.

The sharp, electric jolt of his knuckles against her stomach made Lenora flinch, a sudden spike of adrenaline slicing through the quiet room. When he suddenly tore his shirt off, the rush of cool air over her skin was instantly swallowed by the blistering heat radiating from his bare frame. Looking up into the shadows of his face, she met a hard, territorial stare. The sight sent a thrill straight to her core; the stark demand in his eyes confirmed he was looking exactly at the woman she had begged him to see.

As his heavy weight settled over her, pressing her deep into the mattress, the scrape of his callused hands gliding down her sides dragged her completely out of her own head. Every lingering thought of their domestic evening evaporated, anchored solely by the grounding friction of his rough palms against her waist.

When his mouth hit the skin just beneath her ribs, her breath hitched violently. Her abdominal muscles contracted of their own accord, jumping beneath the hot, wet drag of his lips. The moment his broad chest slid flush against her bare breasts, the shock of skin-on-skin contact was pure, agonizing relief. The perfect friction sent a violent shudder through her entire body.

Hyper-aware of the cracked bedroom door and the kids' white noise machine humming down the hall, Lenora swallowed hard against the heavy sounds building in her throat. The sudden, sharp sting of his teeth biting into her shoulder grounded her, replaced a second later by the soothing swirl of his tongue. She melted into his deep, driving kiss, her own tongue eagerly meeting his frantic pace, reading the clear, rhythmic promise of what he was about to do to her.

Stripped entirely bare in the dim hallway light, a flush of heat painted her chest under his heavy gaze. Yet, absorbing the absolute reverence radiating from him, any lingering insecurity about the marks of motherhood on her body vanished. Instead, a fierce, unapologetic surge of power washed over her.

The wet, pulling heat of his mouth closing over her breast caused her spine to arch involuntarily off the sheets. A fractured whimper slipped out before instinct took over. She clamped her teeth down hard on her bottom lip, using the sharp bite of pain to trap the noise in her throat for the sake of the sleeping children. Her heart hammered wildly against his cheek as she surrendered to the heavy, pooling ache centering between her legs.

The loud click of her jeans unbuttoning echoed like a gunshot in the quiet room. At the accidental brush of his knuckles against her silk underwear, a searing, desperate heat consumed her. With her pants tossed aside, she lay entirely exposed—the casual mother who had bathed their son twenty minutes ago completely erased.

The agonizing pressure of his denim-clad hips settling firmly into the cradle of her thighs drove her nearly frantic. A desperate urge to beg him to strip and finish it flared hot in her chest, but recognizing his deliberate, iron-clad restraint, she yielded to the agonizing pace. She realized he was honoring her request from the hallway, forcing her to feel every excruciating second of the build-up.

The moment his callused fingers slid deep inside her slick heat, all the oxygen vanished from her lungs. Her head tipped back into the pillows, her body clamping down instinctively around his touch as her fingers twisted blindly, violently into the bedsheets. Locking her eyes onto his dark gaze, she surrendered entirely to the overwhelming, rhythmic mimicry of his kiss, letting the sheer intensity of his focus shatter her completely in the dark.

She couldn't just lie there and let him completely dismantle her. Needing an anchor in the overwhelming flood of sensation, Lenora reached up, framing his jaw with both hands. Her thumbs pressed firmly into the rough shadow of his stubble, pulling him closer to match his fierce energy with her own.

As he maintained that heavy, relentless rhythm inside her, the deep, dragging friction sent a violent shockwave straight to her core. The pleasure was so intense it forced her head to tilt sharply backward, sinking deep into the pillows as her spine bowed instinctively toward his hand.

But she refused to lose him in the sensation. Fighting the physical urge to squeeze her eyes shut, she forced her chin down just enough to stare back up at him. Her mouth hung softly ajar, pulling in ragged, shallow breaths. She let him see exactly how much he was wrecking her, utterly consumed by the dark, possessing look in his eyes. She savored every deliberate touch, reveling in the absolute devotion of his focus.

Yet, the rough, agonizing scrape of his clothed hips pressing into her bare thighs was rapidly becoming a physical torment. The heavy, unyielding denim rubbing against her slick, oversensitive heat pushed her right to the edge of her sanity. Unable to trap the sound any longer, a desperate, fractured whimper tore past her lips. Her fingers tightened fiercely against his jaw, pulling his face an inch closer as her voice trembled, openly begging him to take his jeans off.

The sudden, blunt addition of a third finger sliding deep inside her slick heat tore a sharp gasp from her lungs. The deliberate, overwhelming stretch forced her body to yield even wider, amplifying the heavy, driving friction until the sheer sensory overload bordered on unbearable. Her hips jerked up off the mattress, instinctively chasing the profound, aching fullness of his touch.

Needing the anchor of his weight to keep from flying apart completely, her hands tightened their grip on his face. Her fingers dug fiercely into the rough stubble along his jawline, and with a surge of desperate strength, she pulled his head down hard against hers.

Their lips collided. She whimpered straight into his mouth, the muffled, broken sound vibrating against his tongue as they tangled in a wet, frantic kiss. She was drowning in the sensation of his hand, his mouth, and the sheer possessive dominance of his focus, but the abrasive barrier of his heavy denim grinding against her bare, oversensitive skin was pushing her to the brink of insanity.

She couldn't take the separation anymore. Breaking the kiss just enough to drag in a ragged, oxygen-starved breath, she kept her hands locked firmly on either side of his face. Her lips brushed against his as she stared up into the pitch-black depths of his eyes.

"Take them off," she pleaded, her voice trembling but thick with a fierce, unapologetic demand. "Take the jeans off, baby. I need all of you."