He continued to stare, in silence.
“I-I believe I would take pleasure from removing my nightgown.”
The corner of his mouth quirked upward, and she pulled her nightgown off and tossed it aside.
His eyes flared with hunger and the tip of his tongue flicked out as he dropped his gaze to her breasts. Then he reached forward and took a breast in his huge hand, holding it with reverence as if it were a precious treasure. Gently he squeezed and caressed, and Olivia’s heart ached to see the almost boyish delight in his eyes.
“Do you take pleasure from looking at my breasts, husband?”
He blinked.
“And…from touching them?”
Slowly, he nodded, and flicked his tongue out again.
“W-would you like to taste them?”
He caught his breath, as if in wonder, but remained still.
“Husband, did you not ask me to tell you when I might find an act pleasurable? You must do the same. We’re embarking on a journey together, are we not, in search of pleasure?”
He blinked again and his eyes shone with moisture. Then he placed his free hand over his heart and nodded.
“Then please,” she said, lying back, fighting her shame at her wantonness. “Taste my breasts.”
The bed shifted as he climbed over her and covered her body with his. His arm muscles bulged with effort as he hovered above her so as not to crush her beneath his weight. Then he lowered his head and his hair brushed over the skin of her breasts. She caught her breath at the tickling sensation that drove a bolt of pleasure to her center.
Then he placed a soft kiss on her breast. She drew in a sharp breath, and he paused.
“Please continue.”
Such a polite request for such a decadent act! His lips curved against her skin in a smile, then he peppered her breast with tiny kisses, flicking his tongue out at intervals. His kisses grew moreinsistent as he brushed his lips over her skin. Her nipple ached with need, and she arched her back in offering, unable to voice her plea. Then he took her breast in his mouth and flicked his tongue over her nipple.
“Oh yes,” she breathed.
She inhaled and exhaled, focusing on the wave of pleasure building in her center. Then he clamped his lips over her nipple and sucked hard. Her body jerked as a bolt of pleasure tore through her.
He lifted his head, concern in his eyes, and she cried out in frustration.
“Don’t stop—please!”
He lowered his head again, covering her skin with nibbling kisses, then he gave her other breast the same loving attention before sitting back to admire his handiwork.
How could something so wicked give rise to such pleasure? Was this what drove women to madness and ruination?
Olivia swallowed her shame as she saw herself, spread before him, thighs parted, breasts heavy and needy, nipples hard and distended, offering her body to the beast before her.
And beast he was. That part of him, the essence of the beast that made him a man, beckoned to her from the curls between his thighs—thick and erect, with a bead of moisture glistening at the top, to match the moisture between her thighs.
“May I…touch you? I think it would give me pleasure. Would it please you?”
She sat up and reached for him, and he let out a low groan.
“Forgive me, I didn’t mean…” She retreated, but he grasped her wrist and shook his head. He released her, and she curled her fingers around his length. The faint echo of a pulse vibrated beneath her fingers and a slow smile curved his lips as he closed his eyes. She began to caress him, relishing the soft, silken skin encasing the hardness within, and he tipped his head backward.
“Am I giving you pleasure, husband?”
He exhaled sharply, then nodded while she continued to caress him, moving her fingers along his length. She ran her thumb over the tip, and his member jerked in her hand. He let out a groan, as if in pain. But the expression on his face, lips parted, mouth curved in a gentle smile, was one of pure bliss.
