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 shall we

chain," Leanne

and heading to the master bedroom. Her fairy-like gown had slipped off when he laid her

shimmered under the light against her creamy

it, struggling with the knot. Curtis' warm

pressing against her, he didn't

form in his arms, his heart filling with

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

her body heating up and trembling

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

voice husky and seductive. "Baby, open your eyes.

eyes, seeing the swirling

into that tide, helplessly calling his name.

with her sweet voice, his fingers threading through her damp hair, his forehead pressed against hers, unable to resist kissing

with a crescent moon in

light still shone, the

large hand guided