Take Care, Sara

silky hair and jerked his head toward hers, his chest heaving against hers as their lips ensnared one another’s. Sara’s legs went weak when he moaned low in his throat. His hands on her, rough and warm, up and down her back, squeezing her outer thighs, made her weak with longing. Lincoln spun them around and the back of her legs hit the bed. They fell onto it, their lips still locked. His mouth was gifted, tugging and sucking and loving hers. So long. It had been so long.
    His weight was heavy and welcomed. Sara sighed against his lips at the feel of it. His hardness fit with all the soft parts of her and she let go; Sara left her reality to cherish this moment; to revel in all that was Lincoln. His unshaven jaw chafed her neck as he teased her sensitive skin with his lips and teeth.
    There was no room for her husband here and that’s how it had to be. That’s how Sara wanted it to be. She’d hate herself later. There was no time for it now. It felt right with Lincoln. How could it feel so right?
    Lincoln pulled back just far enough to question her with his eyes. If he asked her if she wanted him to stop, if he looked at her like that too long, she’d lose her courage. She’d leave. Sara would forsake this moment of reprieve to wither away in the suffering that followed her everywhere.
    “Don’t do that,” she whispered, shaking her head.
    Sara reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged. Lincoln let her, helping to get it over his head. He tossed it aside. His gaze never left hers and the intensity in it made her stomach swoop and her mouth go dry. Sara’s insides warmed and melted as she rubbed her palms down the front of his sculpted chest and defined abdomen, satisfaction and a sense of power surging through her when his skin pebbled and he sucked in a sharp breath. His body replaced the one committed to memory, his flint-colored eyes took over the blue, and Sara let it happen. She lost herself in him and found a piece of herself at the same time. It was only a tiny, small piece, but it was something she hadn’t been sure would ever return to her.
    “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered roughly, caressing the side of her face. Sara turned her face to his palm and kissed it, surprising herself at the tenderness she felt for Lincoln. When had it happened?
    “Love me, Lincoln,” she told him.
    He gently pulled her top over her head and put his cheek to hers. “I already do.”
    Not what I meant, she thought as her chest constricted, but Lincoln was already moving them up the bed, into the middle of it, and Sara let his declaration fade from her mind as sensations took over. His eyes were so dark with feeling they almost looked black. All thought left her at the force of his expression. It was strong enough to debilitate any she may have had.
    His fingers trailed along her skin, his lips following after them. Shivers went over her, goose bumps rising on her flesh. Sara’s breaths turned fast, gasping, as he hurriedly removed the rest of her clothes, his actions jerky, frenzied. His next move was at complete odds with the previous. He went still, silent. Lincoln stared down at her, his eyes worshiping, his features tight with an emotion unnamable. It was hot, feral, and possessive. And something else.
    Lincoln studied her body and face like he would die if he didn’t; like she was his air and he was fighting for her; or maybe like he knew he’d never see her again after today and he’d forget what she looked like over time so he had to memorize each part of her and keep it alive in his mind forever. That look ruined Sara, altered her, and changed everything she’d thought she’d known. She was reborn in Lincoln’s eyes, and if only for a short amount of time, at least it was hers to have.
    He didn’t have to say anything. Sara was burned, singed, from the way he looked at her. Then he spoke. “I need you,” he panted, swallowing hard. She knew. Sara had seen it in his eyes. She needed him as well.
    Her eyes must have said so. Lincoln groaned and gathered her against his chest. His heart thundered there, arousing her more. The feel of his skin on hers was euphoric. Sara was whole in his arms. Lincoln only released her to quickly shed his clothes, and when he knelt before her, proud and unapologetic, Sara was undone. She didn’t care if it was right or wrong; she only knew it was necessary. For her, for him, for their souls.
    Their bodies were slick with sweat, hot. Sara’s heart pounded