Under the Stars

“Oh, God!” I cry out as the crash of orgasm breaks through me, leaving me shuddering in its wake.

He’s up fast, kissing his way up my body. He stops at my left breast, giving the nipple a gentle pull before kissing a trail across to the other. Every touch sends another spark of pleasure to my tingling core.

Until finally our mouths meet, and I’m lost in his deep kiss, tongues entwining, tasting, pulling. So long I’ve waited for this, but it’s my turn to take the lead.

Like a playful kitten, I rise up and push him into the pillows, kissing his smiling lips, then his eyes. I taste salty tears, and my own eyes heat. He’s never been sentimental, but being separated has been overwhelmingly cruel.

I close my eyes and slide my face down to his bare chest. His heart beats as fast as mine, and a flutter of happiness fills me. I trace my finger over the line

s of his stomach and the few coarse hairs scattered there, pressing my lips to his hot skin.

I feel his erection against my stomach, and slide my hand down to grip it, tugging gently. I move slowly, letting the tension build, but he’s impatient.

With a low growl he says my name and flips me under him again, searching for my mouth and pushing it open, pushing my thighs apart as he reaches between us to line his tip at my entrance.

With a sharp thrust, he fills me to the hilt.

“Mark!” My head tips back, and I gasp at the sensation.

Peppermint is on my tongue. He holds my hair back and kisses my neck, thrusting rapidly, sending me higher with every invasion. My second orgasm is building, and his mouth is on my throat, my cheek, my temple.

Another sizzle of desire pulses through me, and I wrap my legs around his waist, sending him even deeper.

“Lara,” he groans, driving faster until he holds, pulsing and filling me.

An excited sigh slips from my throat. His arms circle my waist, and he holds me in the secure embrace I love. My hands grip his shoulders as the waves of bliss flow over me, over both of us.

“I love you,” I whisper, and my eyes flutter open.

The room is pitch black and cold.

Silence presses against my inner ears so hard they ache.

My heart beats fast and my body is hot from the fading orgasm, but it’s only a dream. I’m alone here, lying on my stomach in the soft bed piled high with pillows and duvets. My arms are stretched out, searching to hold him, but no one is there.

I close my eyes and try to get back into the dream. It was so real. I can still feel him, still hear his voice. I press my face into the pillow, searching for his scent, but I only smell fresh detergent on a cool pillow.

In that instant, an ache twists deep in my stomach. My knees rise and my pillow muffles the low moan I can’t hold inside as I begin to weep. I’m throbbing, the physical frustration as painful as my emptiness. I wrap my arms around my legs and hold them, fighting for control. I have to hold on.

Several minutes pass, and I’m finally able to calm my breathing. I roll to the side and sit up carefully, reaching for a tissue from the box by my bed. I’m dressed in a long tee, and I go to the door, quietly crossing the hall to Jillian’s room.

It’s a tiny room Roland said he’s sure was meant to be a pantry. We’ve put her portable crib in it and a cute little Tree of Life lamp complete with animals circling it, and she’s snug and warm in the little space.

But when I approach, I see her crib is empty.

“What?” A jolt of fear seizes my chest, and I search, feeling around in the blankets.

Her baby scent is still there, and the mattress is warm.

Dashing out of the room, I run into the living area, when I stop in my tracks. Sitting on the leather couch, his feet on the coffee table and a Kindle in his hand, Roland has my little girl swaddled and sleeping on his chest.

The sight eases the pressure, calms the fears, and I go to them, quietly padding across the wood floor.

Worried eyes flicker to mine. “Another dream?”

I sit on the couch right beside him, and rest my head on my hand. Jillian’s eyes are closed, but her little rosebud lips move in a sucking motion.

I smile and place my hand on her back. “She’s going to want her bottle soon.”