HIS REGRET (Ex-Husband wants Me Back) novel Chapter 402

**Shadows of the Past – By Emma Clarke**

**Chapter 402**

With a deep, almost primal growl escaping his lips, Daven pressed his mouth against the delicate skin of Althea’s neck. They locked eyes through the mirror, and in that moment, Althea felt the weight of his gaze, brimming with a love that was fierce and unwavering—love that was solely hers. When Daven murmured, “I’m yours too, sweetheart. All of me,” a warmth spread through her chest, settling like a comforting blanket over her heart.

In a swift, fluid motion, the knot of her kimono came undone, cascading down her body. Daven held his breath, his heart racing as the reflection in the mirror unveiled Althea’s form.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. “No, breathtaking. You’ve always been breathtaking in my life, my Althea.”

As the fabric pooled around her feet, Daven’s fingers glided over the nape of her neck, sending a shiver coursing down her spine. His touch lingered, exploring the gentle curve of her chest with a reverence that took her breath away.

“If you ask me to stop—” he began, his voice laced with restraint.

“Don’t stop,” she interrupted, her tone firm yet filled with a hint of pleading urgency.

A shift occurred in Daven’s expression; his playful smile was replaced by a look heavy with desire, raw and palpable. “Then… tonight will be a long one,” he promised, the implications of his words hanging in the air between them.

The thin nightdress followed the kimono, slipping away as effortlessly as the first rays of dawn. Daven’s gaze roamed freely over her, drinking in every detail, every curve, as if he were a starving man and she was the feast laid before him. His kisses trailed along the sensitive skin of her neck and the delicate hollow of her collarbone, each touch slow and deliberate, leaving warmth in their wake.

With both hands, Daven cupped Althea’s chest, kneading gently. She tensed, caught in a whirlwind of nerves and exhilaration, overwhelmed by sensations that felt foreign yet intoxicating.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he urged softly, his voice a soothing balm against her rising anxiety.

“I’m trying,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper, hoarse with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

As Althea reached for the kimono to ward off the chill that enveloped her, Daven was quicker. In one smooth motion, he lifted her effortlessly, her gasp escaping her lips as she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling the strength of his embrace.

Daven lowered her gently onto the large, pristine bed, his hands moving with careful precision as he adjusted the pillows, never once breaking eye contact.

“Calm down, Daven. It feels like you’re the tense one,” Althea teased, her laughter light and airy as her fingers traced the strong lines of his handsome face.

“You’re right,” he admitted in a low whisper, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Everything in me is unbearably tense.”

Their lips met in a kiss that transcended the ordinary; it was a kiss filled with longing, a release of all the feelings they had kept at bay for far too long. When Althea, her voice rough with emotion, whispered how she could ease that tension, Daven let out a low growl and hastily opened his sleep shirt.

“May I?” Althea asked, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and sincerity.

“Of course,” he replied, a hint of eagerness in his tone.

With deliberate slowness, she unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time, her gaze roaming over her husband’s body with a quiet awe that left her breathless. Daven guided her fingers, placing them over his chest, where his heartbeat thudded like a drum.

“Once we’re this far,” he said, his voice low and serious, “I won’t pull away.”

A faint smile graced Althea’s lips. “Neither will I. And haven’t I already told you—I’m yours.”

Daven nipped playfully at her earlobe, sending a jolt of electricity through her. “My queen,” he murmured, and as his lips found the most sensitive hollow of her neck, Althea squeezed her eyes shut, certain that by morning, the mark he left would be impossible to hide.

“If you are mine,” he murmured against her skin, “then I am your world.”

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