Marietta reached up to kiss his mouth, her hands stroking the hard flesh of his chest, and smiled into his eyes. “No, never. Every moment is wonderful.”
Max grinned back at her. “My scandalous wife.”
“Very scandalous,” she whispered.
He dipped his head to kiss her breasts, eagerly, his hands sliding down her back to cup her bottom and lift her, so that when he bent his knees slightly, and parted her thighs, he could enter her and be where he longed to be.
Marietta gasped and arched her throat, gazing up at the night sky. The stars shone down on them, their reflection dancing in the wash of the waves. The pleasure built as gently, peaking and then slipping away to leave them basking in its glow.
When they were dressed again, Max carried her in his arms across the sand, back toward the house on the cliff.
“I have something to tell you,” Marietta said, nuzzling against his throat, enjoying the scent of him.
“You’re not opening a bordello?”
She smiled against his skin. “No, I’m having your baby.”
He stopped and looked down into her eyes, and the joy and elation in his face brought her to tears. And then he began to walk again, his arms tightening about her, as if she was the most precious thing in the world.