I’m done for, clenching around his dirty words and coming to their delicious punctuation with each flex of his hips.
I’m a dirty talk whore—I love it.
And as Raif’s teeth finds my shoulder, I realize so does he.
37
LAVENDER
I waketo the feeling of the sheets being pulled gently from my body, their soft slide tickling, awakening my already oversensitized skin.
“Buenos días, princesa.” I hear the soft smile in his voice. Feel it pressed into the back of my hip. “Good morning, princess.”
“Mmm, sexy languages.” What an aural turn-on.
“Open your eyes.”
“Nope.” My answer is more purr as he presses a kiss to my spine.
“Tienes ojos como el cielo.”
“God, you could read the shipping forecast in Spanish, and it would get me hot.”
The breath of his smutty chuckle coasts over my skin. “We can try that later if you want.”
“Mmm. What did you just say?”
“You have beautiful eyes. Eyes like the sky. Come on, let me see them. It’s time to wake up.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to let reality in.”
“Reality looks real good this morning.” Raif’s words sound kind of rusty as he fills his hands with my butt cheeks and squeezes, the flat of his tongue a hot press at my lower back. My breath catches, my body surging at the unexpected contact. There’s something primal in it, in his manhandling. “Good from this angle, too.” His breath is hot, his tongue wet, his fingers tighten, really tighten, as his thumbs begin to slide inward.
“Don’t even think about it.” I turn my pleasure into the pillow as I clench my bum cheeks against this onslaught, fighting not to give in.
I’m naked in the daylight. While it would be ridiculous to be coy or embarrassed after a night of being spread and examined, licked and bitten apart, kissed and held and fastened back together again, I can’t help but think this might be a step too far.
“That’s not what you said last night.”
That tone—those words. I fold the pillow around my red cheeks as I try to ignore exactly how adventurous Raif’s tongue had been.And how much I’d liked it.
“If you’re not gonna be breakfast, maybe you want to eat breakfast,” he murmurs, releasing me. “Come see what I brought.”
“What?” My head turns to the suddenly apparent sugary scent. Shafts of light cut across the room through the shutters, dust motes dancing in the air like fairy dust, and there, on the nightstand, is breakfast! The best sex of my life—the best sex ofanyone’s life, I’ll bet—and breakfast in bed! Romance heroes, eat your hearts out.
“Ooh, yum!” I flip or, rather, worm my way over onto my back as Raif drops over me. He palms my shoulders and braces his thighs over my legs.
Don’t look down, don’t look down!
Of course, I do. He has black boxer briefs on, and I’m not sure if I should be relieved or disappointed.
Last night, Raif made it plain that marital rites were his due, that my body was his, and my pleasure owed to him. I lost count of orgasms around number five when he’d lifted my legs over his shoulder and pushed a pillow under my butt, making me an actual pillow princess. He bent me in shapes I never knew were possible, and our sexytimes weren’t relegated to the bed. The shower; soapy fun leading to even dirtier times. The sofa. Twice. Once bent over the arm, my hands in his, caught at the small of my back. He was insatiable, and that made me like putty in his hands.
I have no complaints. Residual flutters, yes. Aches also. I think I might’ve pulled a muscle in the abdominals I didn’t know I had.
“Morning, wife.” A grin spreads across his mouth.
“You like calling me that,” I assert, pressing my hand to his cheek, loving how he leans into it.
