mark for the next few days and the thought had him swelling harder.
With a touch soft as gossamer, his hands continued their own downward trek, each button undone with gentle care. Fingertips explored the flat skin of her abdomen, the well-defined muscles leading to her concave stomach. Faithful about keeping her body in shape, she’d told him often enough how she did it for him.
His hands cupped her ass and squeezed, his actions eliciting another moan, though her eyes never opened at his wicked touch, her head thrown back as her wild red-gold hair shimmered past her shoulders. For a moment, the blink of an eye, the colors blurred and swirled together and he thought he saw a faint shimmer of blonde overlap the red before it faded away.
The zipper on her black skirt slid silently lower under his unwavering fingers before it fell to the ground. He pushed the blouse completely off her shoulders, watched it slide sinuously over her arms before it joined the skirt on the hotel room floor.
Taking another step back, he stared at the beauty displayed before him. Clad only in a lacy concoction of pink and beige, a matching thong barely covered her, revealing the solitary dark pink rose tattoo on her right hip, just above the edge of lace.
"Are you sure?" His gravel-voiced question lodged in his throat but he forced the words out. His heart filled with so much love for her it nearly choked him, but he needed her to know she had options. She could stop this any time she wanted. The knot twisting around his heart loosened with the certainty that even if they didn’t go through with it, never gave Terry and Sharon this last chance, he’d never ever stop loving her.
"I’m sure." Such confidence and love in her tone, he heard it, felt it. It flooded inside him, warming the cold dark place walled off since Terry’s death. He never questioned her love, but what he’d asked of her went beyond the normal conventions of what society considered acceptable behavior.
All mine , he thought again as he reached for his tie. The knot tugged free. Delicate fingers impatiently pushed his hands aside and he grinned, allowing her free access. Impatient. I like it . His striped tie joined her discarded clothing on the floor, followed by his dinner jacket.
The front of his shirt was ripped wide as she held it in both hands and pulled, the sound of buttons popping broke the silence of the room. They flew in several directions and he didn’t care. She loved tearing his shirts open and he’d planned accordingly, packed extras to replace the tuxedo shirt with its pearlized buttons. She yanked the shirt free from his slacks.
French-manicured nails threaded through the spear of black hair across his chest, flitted from one nipple to the other, rolled and pinched until they stood at aroused attention before skimming downward, to follow the line of hair over his abdomen to where it disappeared beneath his waistband.
With a quick shake of his head, he grabbed her questing hands. He’d explode if she continued with her sexual ministrations.
"Slow down, baby."
"Don’t wanna. Need you."
"You’ll have me. Let me love you." He whispered.
Lifting her hands to his lips he planted a kiss in the each palm before he slid one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders and lifted her, sweeping her into his arms and walked toward the enormous bed. It dominated nearly the entire hotel suite. Covered with a black velvet spread, it was decadent and plush and over-the-top and Rose had loved it on sight when they’d checked in earlier in the afternoon.
He lowered her onto her back. His body followed, covering hers from chest to toes. The back of his hand brushed against the texture of the velvet spread, soft beneath her supine form, but it couldn’t hold a candle to the silken texture of her skin.
Cuffing both of her hands in his, he stretched her arms above her head,
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