Of course he would challenge her. She smiled and suggested, “Perhaps we can practice more.”
He immediately hardened against her leg. She grinned and gave him a nudge with her hip. “You are ready for practice.”
His laugh was deep. He rolled on his back, bringing her up and over to rest on his chest, her hair a curtain around them. He pushed it back, letting his fingers play with it, curling one strand around his finger. “It’s too soon. We need to let you heal.”
“You can wait?” She’d always heard that men were very demanding in bed. But he was right. There was a bit of discomfort.
“Of course I can. The first time is a little difficult but after that...” He shifted his weight beneath her so she could feel the length and hardness of him. “We may play all we like.”
“How long must we wait?” She wiggled her hips, letting him know that she was not going to be patient.
“You will have to tell me. But once you say the word—” He kissed her, a promise that he was as anxious to couple again as she was.
He was so handsome, so perfectly formed, soengaging and intelligent, she had trouble accepting that he was her husband. “You don’t mind being married to me?” She had to ask. She felt childish and yet, he could have done so much better—
“I’ve never wanted to marry anyone else but you. Ever.”
Tears welled in her eyes. She closed them, feeling silly. Of all the things she hadnotcried over, why would his declaration touch her in a way she’d never experienced before? However, doubt came easy for her. It was comfortable.
She needed to be sophisticated about the matter. “The circumstances—” she started, but he cut her off with a kiss, one that curled her toes.
“Do you believe me now?” he asked when he was done.
Dara nodded.
“So, we won’t have any more discussions where you compare yourself to your sister or other women?”
She was honest enough to admit, “You may have to remind me, perhaps every day. You don’t have to use words. I think kisses work very well.”
He laughed with such a beautiful, full-bodied sound, her heart seemed to dance with it. And then he rolled so that now she was the one with her back on the mattress. She liked the feel of his weight upon her.
Balancing himself on his arms, he lookeddown at her and said, “I will remind youseveral timesevery day. However, there is more than one way to pleasure. Would you trust me to show you?”
“But you told me you wanted me to heal?”
“This won’t hurt,” he promised. Then he kissed her lips, her chin, a line down her neck. He spent a good deal of time with her breasts. He nibbled the skin of her abdomen—his whiskers ticked—before he went lower. And then lower still. He kissed her intimately.
Dara was stunned. She forgot to breathe.
He was also right. There was more than one way to pleasure.
Nor was she afraid to return the favor.
Because she was just that bold.
***
Dara was the first to wake the next morning.
She lay in the circle of Michael’s arms and realized she’d never felt so well used and content. Turning in his arms, she faced him. He sensed her movement and started to wake. His long legs brushed hers, and then he hooked one over her hips. His eyes opened. She marveled at that black ring around the gray.
He brushed some loose strands of her hair back from her face. After all the energy they had expended the night before, she was amazed itwasn’t a mass of knots. For once, her curls were behaving.
“Good morning,” he said quietly.
She answered by kissing his nose. It was silly thing to do.
His hand cupped her face as he gave her a searching look. She waited, curious, and then he stretched, his toes going all the way to the end of the mattress. “I smell toast,” he said. Her stomach growled as if agreeing. She brought an embarrassed hand to it, but he sat up.
