Page 31 of Beau

“Is that what I was?” He was busy untying the sash on her robe.

“Absolutely. You would not take no for an answer.” Her breath caught in her throat when he cupped her breasts. He watched in fascination as the nipples turned pebble-like.

“Feed me darling," he rasped hoarsely.

“Feel free,” she whispered.

Removing his hands, he suggested that she cupped the sensitive globes and offered them to him. With trembling hands, she did, her back arching when his blonde head bent over her.

His tongue laved over the rigid flesh, moistening it with his saliva. Her body trembled, the heat spiraling downwards to the core of her. She moved restlessly, her body aching for more involvement. But he was determined to take his time.

The taste of her was addictive, an aphrodisiac coursing through his blood stream. His body was ripe and ready, his sex hard and aching, pulsating with life. Tugging the nipple into his mouth, he suckled, sending fiery darts of passion coursing through her veins.

Her head thrashed on the pillows, her body heaving toward his hungry seeking mouth.

He was thorough, taking his fill and driving her to the point of madness. When he switched to the other nipple, she was mindless with need, her body burning with a fever that only he was able to quench.

Her pleas echoed around the room and were ignored. Letting goes of the soaking wet flesh, he applied kisses to her stomach, lingering there. His babies were cradled inside her womb.

His seed had been planted and was taking root and he felt emotions taking charge. He loved her, even when he was mad as hell, he loved her so much, he couldn’t breathe. Placing his hands beneath her hips, he angled her body upwards.

His mouth settled on the dark curls at the apex of her thighs where he nuzzled. Her moans vied with the crackle and pop of the firewood blazing inside the hearth. The brilliant lights from the tree bathed them in glory. But the couple on the blanket were so absorbed with each other that nothing else mattered.

He pressed an open mouth kiss on her swollen flesh and caused her to jump in reaction. Georgie’s fingers curled into the downy softness of the blanket. Her body felt weightless, feverish. Her heart was pounding wildly.

He used the tip of his tongue to invade her womanhood. Her body vibrated with need as she drew her knees up to further aid his questing tongue.

Fireworks exploded inside her body and had her calling out his name. She trembled in ecstasy as the storm threatened to overwhelm her.

He came to her, his long lean body covering hers. With one swift motion, he was embedded deep. A shuddering breath escaped him as he stared down at her. His eyes were light emerald fire blazing into hers. His handsome face was tense with passion.

Bending his head, he whispered love words against her mouth. “Your taste is still in my mouth, on my tongue.” His voice was thick, almost incoherent. “It’s better than honey and fine wine.” His tongue played with her bottom lip, before using his teeth to nibble.

“Beau.” She moved restlessly, trying to get him to do the same.

“Not yet," he breathed inside her mouth, and she felt faint.

“Please.”

“Soon.” His tongue darted into the sweet crevice, exploring deftly. He used his teeth and tongue to drive her to distraction.

Georgie dug her fingers into the bunched muscles of his back, her hands wandering restlessly further down until she was gripping his taut butt. He sipped at her lips, enjoying the taste lingering on his tongue. She was sweet, incredibly so, and he realized not for the first time that he could never get enough of her.

He moved then, slowly at first, building up the tempo, until he was driving into her, deep strokes that brought them closer to the stunning climax that always left them weak and far from satisfied.

Her fingers gripped him, and he swallowed the anguished cries coming from her throat. He drove into her faster, the momentum building, until they were both spinning out of control.

They drifted slowly back to earth as they clung to each other. Neither seemed to care that they were both bathed in moisture, their bodies slicked with sweat. Georgie had her face buried in the curve of his throat, her body still shivering from the aftermath of the explosion that had shaken them to the core.

“I am crushing you.” Before she could protest, he was sliding off her. Not wanting to let her go, he pressed her against him, her head resting on his chest. Words were superfluous as usual and for several minutes they laid there in silence, appreciating and marveling at the passion they evoked in each other.

The fire needed rekindling, the lights from the tree casting shadows all around the room. Contentment settled over them and right at that moment, it seemed like nothing could ever pierce the protective love they experienced.

Stirring in his arms, Georgie happened to look up and out the floor to ceiling window. She started in surprise, her glad cry drawing a concerned frown from her husband.

“What?”

“Look!” She nodded toward the window.