Too Sweet (Boys of Lake Chapel)

9. Decker

Chapter 9

Decker

It’s late when we finally get back to the cabin. My instinct is to head to bed, but there’s a quieter part of me that never wants this night to end. I’ve always done the right thing, made the responsible choice. Tonight, I want to go for what I crave, no holds barred.

“Do you want to warm up together in front of the fire?” I ask as we strip off our outer layers.

Her cheeks are bright pink, flushed from the cold and the exhilaration of skating.

Bending over to remove one boot, I steel myself for disappointment. It’s late. I’m cold and already sore. She must be freezing. Maybe it’s better if we both just call it a night and head to bed.

Her answering smile pierces through my chest with such intensity, I stumble trying to pull off my other boot.

“I would love that.”

After I right myself, I pull my wife into my arms. She yelps when my freezing hands crawl up under the hem of her shirt and splay wide on her low back. I don’t let her go; I just hold her tighter.

“You’re so soft and warm,” I murmur, bowing my head so I can kiss her jaw.

Josephine snickers. “Those are two words I never imagined you would use to describe me, Cap.”

Shaking my head, I lead her over to the couch in front of the fireplace. I’ve never been more grateful to have a remote-controlled setup than I am right now. I snag the remote before we sit, then crank up the flames to the highest setting.

“Come here.”

She complies without hesitation. My girl’s in rare form tonight.

Pulling her into my lap, I brush all her hair to one side, then tuck my chin into the crook of her shoulder.

Josephine emits a full body sigh, relaxing back into me and letting me take more of her weight.

We sit quietly, our gaze focused on the fire as the flames dance before us. Warmth eventually reaches us. Josephine relaxes into my hold even further.

She brushes her hands down my arms, linking her fingers through mine and pulling my arms around her torso.

A wave of emotion washes over me. It’s contentment and joy mixed with anxiety and frustration.

I want it to always be like this with her. I want to have a lifetime of laughter and teasing, cuddling in front of the fire and holding her close.

But I’m a realist. I know this moment—where everything feels easy and perfect and oh so sweet—isn’t something we can hold on to forever.

Life happens. We’ll face challenges and have to overcome obstacles.

It might not always feel like this, but it’s my life’s mission to chase this high and give her this level of peace and contentment as often as possible.

When Josephine leans back, I can’t help but readjust and pull her closer.

“You’re the very best part of me,” I whisper into her ear.

A shiver racks through her.

My need to care for her seizes my brain. “Baby, are you still cold?”

Wordlessly, she turns, swinging one leg over my lap so we’re face to face.

“Josephine.”

She doesn’t answer.

Instead, she kisses me, soft and slow. Almost lazily, as if we have all the time in the world.

But that still doesn’t ease my concern.

“Josephine.” I pull back, and she pouts. “Answer me. Are you still cold?”

She bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes glassy, blown-out orbs peering up through her thick lashes.

“I’m freezing, Decker. But I know exactly what you can do to fix it.”

Her mouth finds the tendon in my neck. She nips playfully, then licks the spot as her words settle my anxiety.

“Warm me up, husband. I need your heat.”

She grips the hem of my Henley, then pulls it over my head.

Matching her languid movements, I gather the fabric of her shirt and do the same.

Her chest rises and falls in rapid breaths. My eyes track the movement as she reaches both hands behind her and removes her bra.

I keep my gaze focused on her face as she shimmies off my lap. Rising to her feet, she quickly unbuttons her jeans and steps out of them.

She’s bare before me, her silhouette framed by the licks of flames behind her.

She’s exquisite in every sense of the word. She’s warmth and goodness and everything I’ve ever wanted—for myself, and for my brothers.

I shove down my pants and boxers, desperate to feel her heat where I crave her most.

She climbs back onto the couch, spreading her legs to straddle my lap. My hands caress along the curve of her hips, guiding her closer and welcoming her home.

She hovers just out of reach, the sweet heat from her core teasing the tip of my cock.

“Let me have you, Siren,” I practically growl.

She rests her forehead against mine and closes her eyes, then uses one hand to grip me and put me right where she wants me. She takes her time lowering down, her warmth consuming me as she takes inch after inch until I’m fully sheathed.

With a shuddering breath, she opens her eyes and stares right into my soul. “You have me, Decker. I belong to you.” Then, with an uncharacteristic softness I never get from this woman, she whispers, “Please keep me. And never let me go.”

I smash my mouth to hers, thrusting up in the same breath. I pour everything I am into the kiss. Tasting her. Devouring her. Giving and receiving until our mouths meld into one and we’re connected as deeply as possible.

Breaking away, I fuck up into her again, holding her against me. “I dare someone to try and take you from me,” I rasp into her ear. “Let them fucking try.”

She kisses my neck, rolling her hips.

Every time she thrusts forward, I feel the tug in my core. Every time she sheaths me with her warmth and goodness, I have to grind my molars to keep myself from coming first.

Everything she does—everything she is—it’s all so sweet.

Her lips hover inches from mine, our breaths mingling and our foreheads pressed together. I finally loosen my grip and caress her skin. I trail my hands up and down her back, then circle them around and brush my fingertips against her nipples.

“More,” she murmurs, the sharp points of her nails digging into my shoulders.

I roll her nipples between my forefingers and thumbs, matching the movements to the deep, soul-shifting drive of our lower halves.

She’s getting close—and thank fuck for that, because I’m tensing every muscle in my body to stave off my own release.

I move one hand to her hair, cradling the back of her head, and snake my other hand between our bodies, bringing my thumb to her clit and rubbing her in quick, tight circles.

When her heat clenches, I know this is it. She unravels beautifully, her head thrown back in ecstasy as her body pulls me deeper and tugs at the very essence of who I am. It’s the sensation of her letting go that finally unleashes my release.

Waves of pleasure ripple through me, the sweetness of the moment washing over me and fortifying everything I feel for this woman.

As we come down, neither one of us makes any moves to separate.

I’m so satisfied. So content. So utterly blissed out that I can’t imagine anything I want or need more than my wife in my arms.

Wordlessly, I stand up, taking care to keep us connected. I arrange a few pillows, then lie back down on the couch, pulling an oversized blanket over our bodies.

Josephine nuzzles into my neck, kisses the hollow of my throat, and whispers, “I love you” before falling asleep in my arms.