Struck by Love のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 55

His eyes were riveted on her. She wore only his t-shirt, which was huge on her, and panties. She grabbed his hand and placed it under the roomy t-shirt, on her stomach. Her eyes were warm with desire. He leaned forward, pulling her close to him. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her stomach. She held his head in her hands, running her fingers through his thick, dark hair, still damp from his shower, and bent over him. He could feel the touch of her breasts through the t-shirt. He slid his hands up and caressed her bare back, relishing the feel of her skin. “I constantly crave touching you, feeling your body.” “And I want you to,” she whispered into his ear. She writhed in his grip, letting him know his touch was pleasurable, desired. His strong hands moved to her waist, then felt the curve of her hips. She swayed her hips in response, inviting his further touch. His hands tightened their hold on her hips. He felt the edge of her panties, and

Three weeks after Laura had enthusiastically accepted the offer of a future position within the soon-to-be newly formed Bell Star division of Tsar Enterprises, Angelo arranged a celebratory evening at Painter’s Cove on Saturday night. Along with Sarah and Barry, who was taking the night off to just enjoy himself, Angelo brought Nikolas along. Painter’s Cove was three quarters full at this point and felt warm with colorful lights strewn about, giving a soft glow over the murals. Nikolas commented how it was a welcoming place, not pretentious, just comfortable and artsy. The five of them sat down at the best table in the house, with a good view of the stage, which Barry had taken the liberty of reserving. Laura snuggled into Angelo, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. His thick, dark hair had his usual tousled look. He was dressed in casual black jeans, a dark grey jacket and light blue button down shirt that set off his eyes nicely. His shirt collar was open a tasteful thr

Six months later, Laura woke up feeling happier and more complete than she ever had in her life. She was now Mrs. Tsarkopolis. She lay there for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the soft light streaming through the white curtains. She smiled as she felt the soft swaying of the 120-foot luxury yacht, the Sea Star, that Angelo had chartered for their two-week honeymoon through the Greek islands. He had wanted to show her where his family was from and do it in style. She closed her eyes again. She found the sensation of being on the water relaxing. She stretched and yawned, then rolled over. Angelo was still sleeping. The white sheet had slipped down to around his waist. Laura lay there looking at her husband. They had just spent their first night together as husband and wife. His face looked peaceful. She looked at his thick, dark hair, all askew, framing his face; the humidity giving it a wilder look. She loved it; it gave him an almost boyish charm. She looked at his long