He Cherished
He loved her eyes. He loved the blue, how it was light when she was happy and dark when she was angry and nearly black when she lusted for him. He loved the expressions that he could read in them, how he knew just what she was thinking with one glance.
He adored her lips. So pink and so smooth, he adored the feel of them against his own. He adored the way they kissed their boys good night and good morning. He adored watching them when she laughed, but especially when they ranted against the injustices in the world.
He treasured her hair. He treasured the silky feel of blond tresses between his fingers as they lay in bed on Sunday mornings. Curly or straight, he treasured the way she sat on the end of their bed, brushing it each morning, discussing the day with him, the boys dancing around.
He was enamored by her breasts. They fit firmly in his hands, soft and plump. He was enamored by her nipples, the color of raspberries, his favorite fruit. Her nipples became erect the moment his lips touched any part of her body, her breasts heavy with his caress.
He admired her hands. Always delicate and manicured, they preformed the work of agent, mother, coach, wife, and lover. He admired the way they ran through her hair when she was frustrated and the way they rubbed the backs of their sons, giving comfort.
He lusted after her ass. He lusted after the firm and juicy. He followed her ass whenever she walked in front of him, unable to tear himself away. He lusted for it whenever they were parted, wanting to do nothing more than sink his teeth into it.
He doted on her legs. They were powerful enough to chase down unsubs and keep up with a soccer team full of ten-year-olds. He doted on the way they looked good in jeans and in a red dress. But his favorite look was a white dress shirt and black pumps.
He was tickled by her toes. Hidden away while at work, she showed them off as soon as she came home. He was tickled by the pinkish tone and of the colorful polish that she insisted on wearing. But it was the toe ring that only he knew of that tickled him the most.
It was her stomach that he worshiped the most. Wanting nothing more than to bury his face into it, he encouraged her to wear short shirts as often as possible. He worshiped the way the muscles rippled as he kissed his way down it and the way it growled when she was late on a meal.
But mostly, he cherished how swollen it currently was as she carried their little girl inside of her.