Slave to Love

‘Mmm,’ she sighed. ‘More of more.’

‘Heartless woman,’ he mocked, and slid himself upwards until he was lying beside her. ‘Say you’ll marry me and I’ll give you a whole lot more,’ he coaxed.

‘

Name the more,’ she insisted non-committally.

He was quiet for a moment, his tongue playing absently with the silken lobe of her ear. Then he said quietly, ‘The love kind of more, the marriage kind of more, to a man who loves you, and—’ he levered himself up to look deeply into her eyes ‘—the children kind of more.’

‘Children?’ She looked searchingly into his eyes. ‘You really want more children?’

‘More little Lulus running rings around me?’ he pondered, then smiled. ‘Of course I want more children,’ he assured her. ‘Your children—our children—beautiful little people with beautiful minds and a wicked stepsister to keep them in line.’

‘Lulu isn’t wicked,’ Roberta protested. ‘She’s just— protective of those she loves, that’s all.’

‘You’re only saying that because she suddenly became protective of you,’ he derided. ‘Well?’ he then asked. ‘Are those enough mores, or have I got to waste time racking my brains for more mores?’

Roberta pretended to think about it, her fingers playing with the fine black hair at his temple, while he watched her with the growing fire of passion burning through the love in his eyes. Then, ‘OK,’ she surrendered, ‘I’ll take what you’re offering, so long as you pass this last test.’

‘And what’s that?’ he asked, smilingly taking the bait.

For an answer she pulled his naked body on top of her own, then wound her long legs tightly around him.

‘More,’ she whispered, and watched with a thrill as his eyes spiralled into dark clouds of stormy passion and he thrust himself deep inside her.

And he filled her—just as he had always done. Filled her with his body, with his passion, and now with the power of his love.