She rolled onto her side to watch him get a washcloth wet with warm water. Propping her chin on her hand, she regarded him steadily. “How soon?”
“Don’t know. Minutes. Hours. Depends. That was pretty wild. But just looking at you gives me a rush.” It was the damned truth. She was staring hungrily at his cock. Just the way she was looking at him with such enthusiasm and demand sent heat spiraling through his groin. “Put your knee up, sweetheart.”
Draden caught her knee himself and gently washed between her legs, reluctantly removing his seed from her. He hadn’t realized he would want to see that evidence of his possession gleaming on her thighs, or how much it would turn him on all over again. She lay looking up at him, her face soft, eyes on him, but she didn’t speak.
He took her hand, his thumb sliding over his ring on her finger. As far as he was concerned, it was the perfect ring for her. He’d wanted a fancy red diamond for her. The one he’d chosen was purplish red surrounded by small white diamonds. He would never tell her what it cost because she’d never wear it if she knew, but he’d had that vision in his head for her ring. Red matched the fire in her. On his wedding ring there was a single tiny matching diamond, because he wanted her brand on him.
The pad of his thumb moved back and forth over the ring, and all the while he looked down at it. “You happy with this choice?”
“I love it. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He tugged until she stood up. She was a little wobbly at first, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. “We need to eat.”
“I think you’re right. I’m starving, but I’m too weak to make it to the table.” She rubbed her face on his chest like a cat.
He caught her hair in his hand, crushing the silky strands into his palm. “I love you, Shylah. Thank you for marrying me. It was important to me.”
“It was to me as well.”
She looked up at him again, all wide-eyed, something close to adoration on her face. His heart stuttered in his chest. To have a woman like Shylah looking at him with that expression was almost more than a man could take. He took her mouth because he was helpless to do anything else. Around her, he was certain, he wasn’t going to have a tremendous amount of control.
He kissed her, tasting love in her kisses. Fire. Her passion for him was every bit as strong or stronger than her passion for life. She lived life large, and clearly and she loved him with that same intensity, as he loved her. Shylah didn’t hold back. She wasn’t coy or embarrassed about showing him how she felt, and that was more of a turn-on for him than anything else ever could be. She wanted him, and she let him know she did.
When he lifted his head again, his gaze blazing down into hers, she gave him that same little rub on his chest with her face, a cat purring her love. “I need to get dressed, but it feels like too much effort. I think my arms and legs have turned into spaghetti.”
“You don’t need clothes to eat dinner with me,” Draden pointed out.
She looked a little scandalized. “You want me to sit at the dinner table nude?”
“You’re wearing heels and jewelry. I don’t think you need anything else.” He grinned at her. “Are you afraid the neighbors are going to stop by unexpectedly?”
“Is this going to be a regular thing? Dinner and no clothes?”
He nodded slowly, his eyes moving over her body. He’d never get enough of looking at her. “We might lose a few dishes now and then when I sweep them on the floor and have you for dessert.”
Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “I suppose sacrificing a few dishes isn’t such a bad idea.” She took a step toward the cases he had opened. “What did Joe send us?”
He pulled out the dishes. Two beautiful white plates rimmed with gold. Crystal champagne flutes rimmed with gold. Gold silverware. A white tablecloth with golden threads woven through it. He handed it to her, and she smoothed it over the little wooden table. Her hands lingered over it.
“Draden, this is so perfect. I can’t believe you did this for us.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, and his heart clenched.
“I can’t take credit for the dinner. The team sent the rest to us.” He handed her the plates and stemware. “Which means Joe.”
The bucket of ice with the chilled champagne bottle in it he placed on the table himself. The food smelled and looked amazing. The heated plates were covered in silver warmers and Draden placed the items on the china. Prawns served in ginger and lime sauce were in one server. Filet mignon, potato and mushrooms in another and grilled asparagus in a third. At once the aroma filled the room and he found himself starving.
He seated her in the chair across from his, leaning down to kiss the vulnerable nape of her neck before opening the champagne and pouring it into the two flutes. Her fingers brushed his semihard cock and, just like that, his body responded.
“You do want to eat our wedding dinner, don’t you?” He put the flute into her hands.
She nodded, but her eyes were on his groin. Her tongue slid out and she licked her lips. “I don’t know. I think so. You look like dessert to me.”
She was deliberately putting images in his head, building them carefully with erotic, descriptive words. He could see them in her head and that had never happened before—seeing instead of hearing. Her fingers were already settling over his hip and urging him closer to her chair as she took a sip of the bubbly golden liquid. Not once did her eyes look up. He knew better, but he allowed her to pull his body in close. His cock had grown as hard as a rock.
“Baby,” he cautioned.
She ignored him and leaned forward, her breath on the smooth, now throbbing head. Her tongue slipped out to taste him. A cautious foray. Just that took his breath. She got bolder and licked, as one would an ice cream cone. Without warning, her tongue swirled around the sensitive head and then she licked from base to tip. Her hands cupped his balls, gently squeezing and then her mouth was there, exploring, sucking gently.
Draden was certain his head was going to explode. He put down his champagne flute before he forgot he had it in his hand and caught her hair gently with his fists. Gripping. Not guiding. She didn’t need guidance: she wanted to be in charge. To explore. He gave her that because her tongue was talented, and every stroke had little explosions going off in his cock.
Then her mouth engulfed him, and he was in a tight, hot, wet tunnel, her tongue swirling up and down his shaft and then flicking the tip, rimming it and then going back to the base with that swirling motion that kept left him without a brain. Her tongue flicked under the crown, hitting the exact spot that threatened to end everything before it began.
She pulled her mouth off of him to wrap one hand around his cock while she took a mouthful of champagne. He stood above her, and she had to lean again to reach him. Keeping the champagne in her mouth, she sucked him gently into that hot tunnel. At once, bubbles burst around his shaft and the sensitive head. He’d never felt the sensation before and it felt like a thousand tongues lapped at him. He couldn’t help thrusting a little deeper. To his shock, she took him deeper, sucking and lashing him with her tongue.
“Look at me.” He had to see her eyes.
Her lashes lifted, and he was looking at his wife. Her lips were stretched wide around his thick shaft and her mouth worked as she continued to suck. Her brown eyes shone with pleasure, with something else as well. He could see lust mixed with love. Bright. Hungry. Needy. She was enjoying herself almost as much as he was and that added to the pleasure roaring through his veins. She’d said she’d practiced, and she hadn’t been kidding. She had all kinds of techniques and just when she was in one rhythm, she’d suddenly switch it up.
“Keep looking at me, Shylah. I’m going to blow. You might want to stop.”
Her eyes said there was no way she was stopping. More, she suddenly just swallowed him down. Took him deep. There was no warning, just the sudden squeezing of his shaft, those muscles working in her throat and the sight of that, the feel of it, sent his body exploding
like a volcano. His cock jerked hard. Over and over. He stepped closer to her, his fists tightening in her hair, his first aggressive move, as he pushed his cock even deeper and held himself there, hips thrusting as lightly as he could control it.
It felt like every cell in his body went up in flames. From his toes to his head the fire swept through him. His spine nearly bowed under the explosive pleasure. He poured into her. Blasted like a rocket. The muscles surrounding him squeezed and milked. When he loosened his hold on her, she pulled back gently. Her tongue slid up his shaft. Swirled so lightly, the sensation helping to bring him back from wherever she’d flung him.
She lifted her head, took a swallow of champagne and then another mouthful. Once again she took him in her mouth and the bubbles surrounded his sensitive cock, licking at him nearly as gently as her tongue had.
He took several deep breaths before he could find his voice. “What the fuck, Shylah? Where the hell did you learn that?”
She sat back, a smug look on her face. “I had a lot of spare time, and I read. There are tons of interesting articles on technique, and I told you, I practiced. A lot.” She stroked her fingers over his cock and balls. “I didn’t think I’d ever find the right man to give my expertise to, but then you came along.”
He leaned down and kissed her. She tasted like champagne and sex. It took another minute to find the strength to walk to the other side of the table and it was only a couple of steps. “Here’s to your expertise, sweetheart. Feel free to practice anytime. You blew my head off.”
“I take it that’s a good thing.” She sounded complacent, and he knew she was well aware what she’d done to him.
His woman was a ferocious little tiger in and out of bed. She wasn’t in the least embarrassed. She was proud of herself and very confident. He really liked that. “I’m going to eat a lot. I think I need to keep up my strength.”
She nodded. “That’s a good idea. I don’t think you’re going to get a lot of sleep.”