“Mmm,” she said instead.
A purr.
Goodness, she certainlyfeltfeline at the moment. Languorous and ready to be worshiped. Give her a good patch of sun and Decker’s hands and lips upon her, and she would want for nothing.
He moved to her other breast as his finger flicked over her with devastating pressure and friction. How quickly he brought her to the edge. Nothing could have prepared her for this, his dark, tousled head bent, his lips drawing on her nipple, sucking. His teeth nipping gently. Tugging. His tongue soothing the sting, running lazy circles around the peak before lapping at the stiff, puckered bud.
So quickly, she turned to flame. Her body was on fire for him. And the fire only increased when he swirled his fingers over her. He released her nipple, his breath hot on her skin.Kiss, kiss, kiss.
He raised his head, the astonishing blue of his gaze clashing with hers. “What about this,bijou? Slower or faster? Harder or softer? Tell me what you like, what you want.”
Good heavens, he wanted her direction? She had never touched herself long enough to know what she liked. She had aspired to being wicked, but she did not fool herself into believing she ever had been.
“Yes,” she gasped as he pressed a bit harder, his fingers moving rapidly over her.
“Slower?” he asked, gentling his ministrations.
Not enough.
“Faster,” she bit out. “Harder, too.”
He grinned. “A lady who knows what she wants. I approve.”
Jo was not certain she knew what she wanted, aside from Decker. He was all, it seemed to her now, that she had ever wanted. She thought back on the words her sister-in-law Clara had spoken to her a few weeks and seemingly a lifetime ago. Yes, Jo felt the same way, as if her heart had known Decker’s forever.
As if this moment, this closeness, had been destined. Pre-ordained.
It was thrilling and terrifying in equal measures.
He strummed her sex as if he were a musician finely attuned to his instrument. And then he was kissing his way back to her lips.Kiss, kiss, kiss.All the way to the hollow at the base of her throat, which he tongued.Kiss, kiss, kiss.To her ear. His tongue slid over the outer ridges, then delved inside. He continued playing with her as he went. Tormenting her. Working her into a frenzy with his knowing touch.
And, oh…oh…oh.
She was—
The sensation hit her, suddenly, warm and cataclysmic.Bliss.She was shaking. Her heart pounded. For a moment, she feared she was dying. Was this the passion she had only ever heard about? Surely not. She could not breathe. Tremors passed through her as she writhed beneath her husband’s caresses.
“Are you coming for me, darling?” he asked into her ear.
If that was what this mysterious pleasure was, then the answer was yes. She was. She was caught in the merciless grip of desire so profound she had never imagined it could exist. And yet, it did. But then, his fingers slid down her folds, leaving that tender bud. He prodded her entrance, where she was wet and aching and ready.
“Yes,” she gasped as his finger dipped into her channel. Not deep, but a slow, tentative penetration.
Testing her.
It was new and strange and yet also deliciously intriguing.
“You are so wet,” he said in that low voice of his, with a note of praise. “So ready for me, sweet Josie.”
Once more, words were beyond her.
But it did not matter then, because his lips were on hers, stealing anything she may have spoken. Drowning her thoughts, her fears. Soothing her with the strong slant of his mouth. He kissed her ferociously. Divinely. She opened for his tongue, tasting him. Wanting him.
And then, a different part of him altogether was prodding her below. The broad head of his manhood. He broke the kiss, his breathing harsh, falling over her lips the same way the tousled waves of his dark hair fell over his brow in rakish abandon. His beautiful face was a study in restraint, his square jaw rigid, his eyes dark, the skin over his slashing cheekbones taut. He was more handsome than any man should be.
He was her husband.
The thought made her weak and wild, all at once.
