“Oh, I wanted to see you.” She grinned. “I wanted to see you strung up by your toenails and flogged to within an inch of your life.”
“You’re not harsh at all, are you? Should I live in fear of you for our entire marriage?”
“Definitely!” she said. Then she raised a hand to pull him down to her. She breathed against his lips. “You should be afraid of me. Very, very afraid.”
He hardened immediately.
Marcus spun around, pushing her back onto the blanket. He lifted her arms above her head and held her hands there, tight within his fists. “I think it is you who should be afraid,” he said softly.
“Of who?” she asked. “You?” She grinned. “Do your worst, Marcus.” She wiggled beneath him.
He couldn’t let a taunt like that go unchallenged. He nestled his leg between hers so he could lie against her heat and bent to kiss her cheek. Then her jaw. Then he drew the lobe of her ear between his teeth and sucked it gently. She squirmed beneath him.
“I’ve thought about this for a month,” she admitted.
He raised his head and looked into her eyes. “What have you thought about?”
She flushed, her cheeks flaming cherry red. “I thought about the way you kiss me.” Her voice was soft and quivery.
He bent and did just that, drawing her lower lip between his teeth where he could lick across it. She let her tongue slide across his, and where he’d been only hard a moment before, he was now painfully hard. He pushed against her heat and her eyes closed.
***
“Tell me what else you thought about when we were apart,” he requested.
The words trembled on her lips. “I thought about the way you kiss your way up and down my body.”
He tugged the string at the bodice of her gown, opening it down the front, and then he pushed it down her shoulders. Her chemise followed, until they both bunched around her hips. He sat up on his knees. “Lift,” he said.
She did, and he pulled her gown and chemise down her body, taking her drawers with them. She covered her breasts with her hands, and he took her hands in his and lifted them back over her head.
“Tell me what else you thought about.”
“I thought about when you put your fingers inside me. And when you found that little spot that makes me go mad.”
He pretended to be puzzled. “What spot was that? I don’t recall.”
“Marcus!” she squealed. He took her nipple into his mouth and licked across it, his tongue scratchy and soft at the same time. He bit down gently on her left nipple, and heat shot straight to her groin. “Marcus,” she crooned more softly.
“What?” he whispered, his mouth popping off her breast long enough to talk, but then he suckled her again, drawing on her nipple until it made her belly clench. “You were talking about this special spot that makes you go mad.”
She leaned up and kissed his forehead. “If you can’t find it, I can show you where it is.” She laughed, throwing her head back, her eyes closed. She opened them when his head suddenly shot up and he looked her in the face. She would never live this down.
“Did a little exploring, did you?” he asked with a grin. “How did that go?”
“Well,” she squeaked.
Good God, the thought of her doing that would unman him. “Did you think of me when you touched yourself?” he asked.
“Every time,” she breathed, her warm words blowing across the shell of his ear.
Thank heavens. “What was I doing in your fantasy?”
“The same thing you’re doing now, only you were moving down there a little bit quicker.” She couldn’t keep from laughing.
He kissed between her breasts and down across her belly button, stopping to flick his tongue inside it. Then he kissed all the way down to where her springy hair hid her mound. And then he kissed and licked his way down through it, until he settled with her knees over his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she asked. But his hot breath already blew across her folds, and she was ready to beg him to touch her.