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He reached down to the waistband of my jeans and undid the button before curling his fingers into both my jeans and the elastic of my panties, tugging them roughly off my body. A few short seconds later, they were gone, discarded with a careless toss behind him.
The cool air in the room made me tremble a little as he placed one ankle back on his shoulder and kissed the inside of my calf. “Cold, baby?”
I gave a hurried nod, unsure if speaking counted in the game.
“Let me warm you up, baby,” he said.
He dropped my leg gently back to the bed and stood up. I watched him as he walked away and turned on the heater before grabbing a plush blanket from a nearby chair I’d put in the room for when we put on shoes. He came back over to me and covered one leg with the blanket before lifting the other again. He brushed his hand against the skin of my thigh in steady, quick movements, warming it up as he turned his head to pepper kisses on the inside of my calf, my knee, my thigh.
I shivered again as warmth started to flow into the room.
He leaned closer to me, hitching my knee on his shoulder as he neared my molten center. His dominant hand drew a soft path down the inside of my thigh until it stopped at the point where it met my hips.
Perching both thumbs on either side of my center, he pressed down, opening me up to him.
I watched him as he took me in, eyes hooded as they homed in on the most intimate part of me. He had seen it so many times, but it didn’t change the flustering feeling of being observed and admired so brazenly. It didn’t change the vulnerable feeling of being opened up to him.
“God, I love this,” he sighed. “I could stare at this pretty little flower all day, Marley.”
“It only blooms for you,” I said, feeling myself flush. Was that embarrassing to say? Was that stupid? I hardly ever spoke in bed, but Cole was so gifted at it, it felt wrong not to participate.
His eyes flicked from between my legs to mine. “Marley, that was a very sweet thing you just said,” he said, his tone almost ominous. “But you just broke the rules, didn’t you, sweetheart?”
I bit down on my lower lip and brought both hands up to my mouth.
He smiled at me, the same indulgent smile a teacher might give a misbehaving student. He released me from his grasp and left the bed again, disappearing into the walk-in closet before returning a few moments later with a polished wooden box.
I was surprised to see it, not because I’d missed it in there, but because I’d seen it the last few times I’d gone in the closet and just assumed it was a case he was using to store ties or cufflinks or watches. He set the box down on the edge of the bed and opened it. He pulled out a pair of…well, I didn’t know exactly what they were, but they were attached to a chain.
He brought them over to me and fussed with a little screw mechanism until they opened. Then he brought them over to my breast and closed the same mechanism until the little metal clasps pinched my already-swollen nipples. I heaved out a sharp breath, biting hard down on my lower lip to keep myself from getting in even more hot water.
He lifted his brows and smiled mischievously as he placed the other clamp on the remaining breast. Once they were both attached, he lifted the chain that joined them and gave it a spirited little tug, stretching the delicate skin before releasing the tension.
I gasped, but didn’t make any sort of vocal noise. He smiled approvingly. “Good girl,” he said sweetly.
I looked at the box, and he quickly closed it before I could see anything else. “No spoilers, sweetheart,” he said with a chuckle. “We don’t want to ruin the surprise for you.”
I gave him a little pout, and he laughed as he settled in between my legs again. “You’re so fucking adorable,” he said. “I’m so glad I get to be your husband.”
He returned to his abandoned focus, taking time to admire the growing arousal between my legs. His lashes hung low as he took it in for a few more seconds before finally sliding his fingers between my inner folds, letting the wetness there pool on his two middle fingers before he slowly, torturously slid them inside me, taking the time to make sure that every square inch of me got the focus it deserved.
I let out a sigh, careful not to let myself vocalize. I closed my eyes and let my body sink into the plush bed beneath me as he slowly fucked me with his perfect fingers. I opened my legs more, granting him more access to the deepest parts of me. He obliged me, stroking with a come-hither motion against the spot he knew so well now.
“You’re so perfect,” he said softly as he continued with that maddening pace—slow enough to keep me from coming too soon, fast enough to keep me on a steady pathway toward my release.
I let the deprivation of my sight help me sink into every glorious sensation.
Then, Cole threw me a curveball. There was a bit of a stutter in the rhythm, a shift in sensation, and then the unexpected broaching of a fingertip past the opening of my backside. I clenched involuntarily and let out a shocked yelp, opening my eyes and looking at my husband.
He smirked at me and pressed the finger deeper into me as his other hand continued to stroke my g-spot. With each subsequent thrust into my core, he slowly eked more of his finger into my backside, tightening the fit of his fingers with each slowly won inch.
“C-Cole,” I said, my skin flushing hot. “Oh god, oh god.”
“You’re being very noisy, Mrs. Lucas,” he scolded with dark promise. “What am I going to do with you?”
He started to slowly alternate the thrusting between my two openings, one being slid into while the other was retreated from, over and over again. Even with his slow progression, I was teetering dangerously close to finishing.
I was loath to finish, not wanting to leave this feeling behind. The warmth and foreign feeling of him fucking my ass with his finger was too good to want to give it up. I clenched my teeth and held onto my pleasure as long as I could, fingers balling into the bedspread, toes pointing and curling.
