Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

The hallway's carpet muffled every sound, and as Curtis led Leanne toward the door, the silence was so profound that she could hear her heartbeat. Once inside, Leanne bent down to take off her shoes, but Curtis knelt before her, gently lifting her leg to slip off her high heels.

Leanne leaned against the wall as he removed her shoes, her bare feet touching the cool floor.

Curtis placed her purse on a table, loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and poured her a glass of water.

Leanne felt like a lamb who had walked into a lion's den, not understanding why the lion had suddenly decided to nap. She obediently took a few sips, and Curtis took the glass from her, finishing the rest before washing his hands leisurely.

Then, he lifted her and put her on the dining table draped with a white tablecloth. As Leanne looked up, his kiss descended.

Slow and deliberate, like savoring a slice of cherry pie, his kisses were gentle and thorough, his fingers softly caressing her. Leanne's guard slowly melted away in this indulgent warmth.

The clasp at the back of her neck came undone. Curtis supported her back, his breath hot as it moved down her neck. Below her delicate collarbone, her breasts were beautiful, not too small or too large, just perfectly plump like ripe peaches.

He savored the creamy whiteness of her skin, and Leanne involuntarily tilted her head back, her toes curling tightly. She clutched at Curtis' shirt collar, the light in the dining room too bright, causing tears to well up in her eyes.

She pushed at Curtis' shoulder. "Let's go to the bed."

"And what

chain," Leanne

softly, lifting her in his arms and heading to the master bedroom. Her fairy-like gown had

her leg shimmered

warm hands covered

her close and pressing against her,

form in his arms, his heart filling with a warmth it hadn't felt

surge of love boiled in his veins, like a tide breaking through

fiery presence, her body heating up and trembling

being wrapped in clouds or floating on an undulating sea, a little sailboat tossed high by the waves with no landing in sight, clinging desperately

voice husky and seductive. "Baby, open

swirling tide of

tide, helplessly calling his name.

fingers threading through her damp hair, his forehead pressed against hers,

night was as tranquil as a calm lake, with a crescent moon in the sky echoing the warm orange

still shone, the crystal chain moving from

tied together, her breathing uneven and chaotic. Curtis' large hand guided her