Suddenly, without the slightest foreshadowing, Kit separated his fingers, trapping my bud between them with the perfect pleasure and I snapped again, collapsing against the chair as darkness overtook me.
The world reappeared, sharpened to a bright knife edge, when his cock slid inside me. Senseless compliments and devotions spilling from Kit’s mouth in a never-ceasing stream against my neck.
It took the length of one, two sloppy thrusts before my wits rejoined me in a cutting breath.
My hands found his shoulders before silently, I pushed him down, down, down until he collapsed back on the floor. Fingers traced the elegant planes of his chest, pushing back against his abdomen when he tried to thrust up.
Methodically, pointedly, I used my palms to press my hips up before allowing them to succumb to gravity, then his cock slid home to welcoming groans from us both.
Kit’s eyes flicked from mine, down to where our sexes met. Awe slid across his face, evident in his furrowed brow and panting lips.
“My turn,” I whispered.
“Fuck, Davina,” he mumbled back. “Goddess...”
I was still too sensitive, my thighs trembling with arousal and exertion. But I wouldn’t need to last long, not if he was already cursing. Just long enough for my turn to break him.
One hand left his chest, finding my own breasts, brushing across a hyper-sensitive nipple, soft as a butterfly’s wings. My husband’s warm fingers squeezed my thigh, a reward for the sight.
“Davina, my love. Please, I—” An overworked tongue darted between his lips, followed by a thick swallow. “I need to?—”
He bucked against the palm resting on his abdomen. Reminded of my task, I settled into an easy rhythm, tightening my internal muscles as I rocked up.
The whimpers were coming from Kit’s chest this time as his gaze flicked between mine, the hand on my breasts, and our joining flesh with increasing rapidity.
“Can I— I want to touch you.” The hand on my hip began to slide toward my nub.
I batted it away, knowing that as much as he enjoyed watching my hands on my breasts, he would appreciate this even more.
His gaze found mine, and I lazily slipped my hand down the curve of my lower belly, through the curls covering my mound, to the button of my pleasure.
A quick swirl finished us both, my internal muscles clenching on his cock as he spilled with wrenching gasps. Ecstasy overtookus both until we were drowning. Wave after wave threatened to pull us under until the ocean of love and lust claimed us forevermore.
When I returned to my body, I was sprawled atop my husband, jostled with each of his trembling breaths even as he ran soothing hands along my spine.
“Beautiful, brilliant menace…” he whispered. His fingers slid like silk along my oversensitized skin, dragging a shudder from me until gooseflesh pebbled along my bare skin in its wake.
It took more thought than it ought, to force my limbs to cooperate. Finally, I managed to arrange my arm across his chest so I could prop my chin on it without poking his sternum. Bemused brown eyes found mine as gentle fingers tucked a limp strand of my hair behind my ear.
“So, my love, do you require frosting?” he asked, a grin spilling across his lips, crinkles deepening in the corners of his eyes.
“Don’t be smug.”
“But it feels so good to be smug.” Pointedly, he gave a half-hearted thrust of his hips, reminding me that his cock was still sheathed inside me. As sensitive as I was, I wasn’t ready to be free of him. Instead, I merely rolled my eyes and settled my head back against his chest.
Beneath my ear, his heart trilled along, still too fast.
“Was it all right?” he pressed again, a hint of vulnerability creeping in.
My heart tugged pitifully the way it always did when my husband was a little unsure. Earlier, he’d taken on the role, but now, now, it was my turn to reassure him.
I pressed up on my hands, earning a littleoomphfor my trouble when I pushed against his chest.
He rubbed at his sternum in mock irritation before his ochre eyes met mine.
“It was perfect,” I said low and assuring.
“Yes?”
