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“And now,” I murmur, tilting her chin so she’s looking me dead in the eye, “it’s my turn.”

She doesn’t look surprised that I need to take over. Or disappointed, come to that. Our mouths connect again, and she wraps her arms around my neck, clinging to me like she’s as desperate as I am.

“I loved my spa evening,” I tell her, wanting her to know how appreciative I am.

“You did?” Her lips curve into a smile that hits me straight in the heart. I swear I could live to make her happy.

“I did.” I kiss her throat. “Let me show you how much.” I move my fingers again, finding the slickest part of her. She lets out a soft gasp as I circle her, feeling how swollen, how needy she is for me.

“West,” she whispers.

I brush my lips over hers. “I want to taste you,” I tell her. I haven’t thought about much else all day. Her sweet against my fingers, my tongue, around my cock.

Making her come so hard she can’t walk.

“Here? In the bath?” Her brows dip.

I grin. “Not unless you want to drown.”

Before she can reply, I lift her, gently, but without asking, rising to my feet with her in my arms. Water cascades down our bodies, sloshing over the side of the tub. She clings to me, laughing breathlessly as I carry her through the steam-filled room to grab some towels for us, because there’s only one part of her that I want to be wet right now.

“West,” she murmurs, arms wrapping tighter around my neck as I carry her. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to.”

I dry her off, then myself, before I lay her down on our bed, her legs splayed out, her damp hair a contrast to the crisp white sheets.

“Look at you,” I murmur. “Such a beautiful wife. All clean and aching for me.”

I get to my knees, wanting to worship her, kissing the sole of her foot because I’m nothing if not thorough.

She giggles, but it turns into a soft gasp when I press my lips to her ankle. Then her calf, slowly moving up to the inside of her knee. My hands are firm on her thighs, spreading them wider, anchoring her to the bed as I move higher, letting my mouth follow the curve of her leg, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her flushed skin.

“Oh God,” she breathes, her voice already shaky.

I lift my head to look at her. Her eyes are heavy with want.

“You’re already trembling,” I murmur, lips brushing her inner thigh. “And I haven’t even started.”

She shudders as I kiss along her thighs. As my thumbs part her even more. As my breath ghosts over her slick heat.

And then I taste her.

A low groan escapes from my throat as I bury my tongue in her, letting her flavor flood my senses. I lick her slow and deep, like I’ve got all the time in the world. Her back arches. Her fingers twist in the sheets. Her moan is half my name, half incoherent.

I drag my tongue up and circle her, slowly at first, then faster, teasing her with pressure and rhythm. Her hips jerk and I pin them down, not letting her escape. Not letting her take control. That’s my job. Making her forget everything except the fact that she’s mine.

I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to feel this woman come on my mouth.

Okay one thing more, but that part of my body will have to wait.

Right now the pleasure is for her. I lift my hand to slide my fingers against her, my tongue never relenting, then I push two inside of her warm, welcoming body, feeling her contract, so damn tightly I almost come without being inside her.

And that would be a travesty.

So I hold it together.Barely. Focused on her, on the way her breath catches, the way her thighs begin to quake around my shoulders, and ignoring the heavy, aching need that makes my body yearn for her.

“West,” she gasps, and I feel it, the way her body tightens around my fingers, the way she’s right on the edge.