“You’re not impaired in any way? The goddess didn’t give you honeyed wine?”
I smiled. “No.”
His voice turned hoarse. “I’m afraid that if I really touch you, you’ll disappear. That this is some fever dream and you’re not actually here.”
I reached for his left hand and took it from my shoulder, placing it directly over my heart. “I’m very alive.”
He left his hand where I had placed it. “This seems like such a momentous occasion, I feel as if I should make a speech.”
“We have done enough talking,” I told him.
My husband looked at me with such tenderness, such warmth, such love, that it made my heart overflow. He leaned in to kiss me. Brushing softly, sweetly against my lips. Kisses light as butterfly wings. Devastatingly sensual. He kissed me like I was a gift. Cherished.
Adored.
Every pass of his lips, every sweet and delicate touch, told me how he felt. They were all expressions of how much he loved me.
But he had lit a fire inside me long ago, one that was always simmering beneath the surface, waiting, wanting to be fed. It demanded more.
He moved his mouth from mine and I tried to follow after him. But he ran his lips along my jaw, stopping to press a kiss here and there. He moved to my earlobe and sucked it into his mouth, filling me with a shivery and trembly pleasure. Then he scraped his teeth along the skin, and this new sensation had me melting toward him.
“You like it when I talk. When I tell you how beautiful you are and how much I want you.” He murmured the hot words against my wet earlobe, and my shivering got worse.
Then he nipped at my neck and moved his way down to the pulse point near my collarbone, which he sucked into his mouth, rendering me mindless.
“You like when I tell you how much I want you,” he said. “And when I say how much I enjoy those breathless, erotic moans you’re making right now.”
I hadn’t even realized.
Then he released me, taking a step back. I was panting, not understanding what he was doing. “Why—”
“Drop the linen,” he commanded me.
That sent a lightning bolt of desire shooting down my spine. Without hesitation I released the linen, letting it fall to my feet.
I didn’t try to hide myself. I wasn’t embarrassed, wasn’t shy. I welcomed his gaze. I wanted him to look at me. To watch the way his muscles clenched and tightened, how hungry his expression became, the way desire lit up his eyes.
It made me feel powerful.
“Do you know that you have the most perfect breasts in all of Ilion?” His voice was ragged, edged with want.
“You might be a little biased,” I said, enjoying the way his gaze heated my skin, as if he were touching me. “I’m certain there are many people who would disagree with you.”
“I will gut anyone who would dare to speak such a lie.” Then to my great joy, his hands went to his belt, which he quickly removed.His tunic was next, and I realized how much I loved watching him undressing, baring himself to me.
Then he started unwrapping his undergarment and the air in my lungs solidified. When he finished, my mouth went dry and my mind stopped working. He was magnificent. There was no other word to describe him.
We had been hiding from each other for so long, keeping secrets, telling each other lies, but now we were both totally vulnerable. Open.
Nothing between us.
There was an ache inside me that needed ... something. “What do I do?” I asked.
“What is it you want to do?” His voice was silky and seductive.
“I want to kiss you. Touch you ... everywhere. Do things that will make your eyes roll back in your head.”
“If you knew how little effort that would take on your part to accomplish, I don’t think I’d ever have a moment’s peace again,” he said with a strained laugh.
