“Will you turn around for me?” he asked from behind her, his hands on her hips.
She turned and was startled by him bearing down on her again as his arms wrapped around her and he gave her a brutal, ravening kiss.
“I’ve waited too long to kiss you, and now I can’t stop.”
“I hope you never stop,” she said between kisses as his hands came up and held the sides of her breasts, now unrestrained and only covered by her thin chemise.
The liquid fire began to concentrate itself between her legs and in her nipples as the holding turned into gentle squeezing, his large hands taking possession of her equally large breasts.
“So beautiful. These are so beautiful. You are so beautiful.”
He bent his neck and still holding her breasts, he trailed his lips over the top of her bosom. His head sank lower and found a nipple and began to suck at it through her chemise.
His hot mouth, the light nip of his teeth, the pull of his lips brought a sensation to her breast that had the piercing quality of pain, quickly overwhelmed by a heated wash of pleasure. Her head went back, and she clutched at him.
“I can’t . . .”
He released her breast from his mouth with a panicked look on his face. “What? What can’t you do?”
“I can’t stand.”
She wasn’t sure how it happened, but somehow he got her next to the bed, and she fell onto the mattress.
“Perfection. Pure perfection,” he muttered, looking down at her. Then he was leaning over her, removing her petticoat. Slippers and stockings.
His hands went to his cravat. “The shift is coming off, too.”
She nodded, mutely. She had no objections, but she was not going to risk missing a moment of his undressing. The lampswere lit for her, too. She wanted to see her husband. She wanted to watch.
Swiftly, efficiently, everything came off his body and the man of her dreams stood in front of her.
Long and lean. Almost bronzed on his face and neck and forearms where his skin was often in the sun and a pale gold everywhere else. Dark hair on his chest and forearms and legs. And yes, that same dark hair at the base of his jutting, hard cock. But that was the part of his body she had seen the most. She wanted to see and feel everything else, too. She knelt on the edge of the bed.
“Please, will you come to me?”
He stepped forward and stood in front of her as she ran her hands over him and explored her husband’s body.
In so many ways, he had the form of a much younger man. Taut skin and lean muscle and sharp bone.
She started at his shoulders. Perfectly square, and even if they were narrow, they were the widest part of his slim body. And just underneath, his collarbone was a graceful line. She ran her hands down his upper arms. The skin was so smooth. She reached the forearms she adored. She lifted each one and pressed a kiss to the rapid pulse in his wrists.
Now back to his chest. Hard under the curling, wiry, dark hair. The flat abdomen, the narrow waist and hips. Her thumbs caressed his protruding hip bones.
“I love these,” she said. “I don’t have these.”
He laughed and she looked up and his face was red. Oliver was blushing? Oliver was laughing?
“You do have them,” he said.
“Well, I can’t feel mine. They’re padded.”
“Padded exquisitely with your beautiful flesh.” Then, finally revealing a bit of impatience. “Are you finished?”
“No.”
His cock jerked, begging for her attention, so she gave it a kiss on the tip. He hissed.
“But you like that, right?” she asked, looking up.
