Taking it All by Maya Banks Page B

chest, tightening until he could barely draw breath. No wife, regardless of whether she was in a position of submissiveness or not, should ever be faced with a failure of a husband.
    When he loosened his grip on her hand, giving her silent permission to go, she fumbled with her seatbelt and hurriedly got out of her seat. He followed her up the short sidewalk to their front door and unlocked it before pushing it open for her to precede him.
    He purposely delayed, giving her time to go into the bedroom and ready herself. And well, he had to mentally prepare himself for what lay ahead because it was difficult for him to be commanding and authoritative when all he wanted was to cherish her, wrap her in his tenderness and make up for all the pain he’d caused her.
    While he could bring himself to command her and to delight in her submissiveness, there was no way in hell he’d touch her precious skin with a crop or his hand. Even the beauty of pleasurable pain had lost its luster and for the time being he couldn’t swallow the thought of indulging in something that had before always brought them immeasurable satisfaction. There would be no blurring the line between pleasure and pain tonight. He wanted only to bring her pleasure. To reestablish their emotional connection by reforging the physical bonds between them.
    When enough time had passed that he could be assured she would be prepared for him, he walked slowly to the bedroom, holding his breath in anticipation of his first glimpse of her. Beautiful. Naked. Kneeling in magnificent submission as she waited for him and his command.
    His pulse accelerated as he pushed open the already ajar door and then he saw her.
    His breath left in one long exhalation and he was suddenly unsteady on his feet. He gripped the frame of the door until his knuckles were white as his gaze slowly traversed her beautiful body.
    She was the picture-perfect image of complete submission. Kneeling on the soft rug in front of the fireplace, her body silhouetted by the light shining from the bathroom, his wife rested, awaiting him. His command. But speech escaped him. He could barely form a coherent thought much less put to words a description that did her any justice.
    Long flowing hair fell down her back, a section artfully arranged over one shoulder and playing an erotic game of peekaboo with one dusky pink nipple. His mouth watered as he imagined tasting the twin peaks. Running his tongue over the puckered ridges and sucking them until they were hard and aching.
    He could almost hear her low moan of pleasure. It only brought home to him just how long he’d gone without hearing the sounds of her satisfaction. How remiss he’d been in providing the pleasure she deserved.
    â€œForgive me, Chessy,” he whispered in a voice he knew she wouldn’t hear. It wasn’t as though he didn’t feel she deserved the plea for forgiveness, but he was determined to forge ahead and not bring yet another reminder of how much he’d failed her. Not tonight when so much promised to be right. Finally right again.
    As though sensing his quiet perusal, her chin tilted up, her gaze finding his. Their eyes locked, hers simmering with need and desire. He was sure his were a perfect match to hers.
    â€œYou’re beautiful,” he said, so she’d hear.
    Her eyes reflected her pleasure at his words.
    â€œI’m glad you find me beautiful,” she said in a low voice that hummed deliciously over his ears, sending awareness deep into his body.
    â€œDo you doubt your beauty to me?” he asked, though he knew it wasn’t well done of him to ask such a question. How could she believe he found her beautiful still after five years of marriage when his actions had pointed to just the opposite?
    Would a man who still loved his wife and thought her to be the most gorgeous woman in the world treat her the way he had?
    Yes.
    He winced at his frank admission. But yes, he did still love