“Don’t rush me,” I whisper, cupping my hand to the back of his neck, my finger teasing the soft hairs there. “It’s not like we have anywhere to be.” He makes a noise of masculine contentment as I press myself closer, my breasts rubbing his chest through my thin robe.
“Eve.” He’s all ache and want as I rock my body over his, barely touching the sheet that’s not exactly covering his—
“Oh!” He whips it deftly across the bed, pulling my body down to his. Hard meets soft in an instant, and I whimper, my insides turning molten.
“You are so beautiful.” His compliments turn me pliant as his fingers slide the robe from my shoulders until it pools at my waist. “Your freckles,” he whispers, trailing his finger across my skin. “So pretty and just begging to be kissed.”
“Sweet talker.” I sigh as his lips trail across my skin, as he lifts my breast, his eyes turning languid as he sucks my nipple into his mouth.
“Sweet is watching you ride me.” He blows a cooling breath over the hardened peak.
“Yes ...”I push up onto my knees, my hand sliding between us to slip across my hot center in a bare caress.
“Fuck, yes. Touch yourself. Let me watch. Eve, in the garden of temptation.”
“Lady garden,” I half rasp, half laugh, undulating over him.
“You look like my fantasy brought to life. All lush curves, wet pussy, and pleading, fuck-me eyes.”
His words are a filthy kind of reverence as I slip my fingers inside. As I writhe. “My Romeo has such a dirty mouth,” I whisper, loving his eyes on me.
“I’ll let you ride it in a little while.” His voice rasps like sandpaper as he grasps the base of his cock.
“God, I need to feel you inside me.” Pleasure pulses through me as his tongue moves over my nipple. I buck. I break. Come apart, just a little bit, there, against him.
I feel so utterly owned and loved as he presses himself to my opening. Our breaths hold as I take him inside, as he holds me there, his eyes never leaving mine. We are wild and unrestrained as we express our love this way, our pleasure too great to prolong as my love spills at his words.
I can feel your heart beating for me.
You are so fucking perfect.
“Oh, God!” A ripple of awareness courses through me and I fall apart in his arms. Oliver follows me as I reach my peak.
Our arms drape around the other, our lips reluctant to part as we whisper promises of love and devotion, when we’re rudely interrupted as Bo bursts through the door.
“Ew, Mr. Bo!”
“Bugger off, Bo! Stop hogging my woman.”
We collapse in a heap, Oliver shielding me with his body. And pulling the sheet with him, because you can’t be too careful where that dog’s tongue is concerned.
“Get down,” Oliver complains when Bo’s slobbery doggy kisses are interrupted by a knock at the door. More accurately, a series of thumps that sets him off barking.
“Ignore it,” Oliver says, bodily rolling Bo from the bed.
“It might be important,” I protest, pitching the other way before he can stop me. “Yara said to expect the paperwork today.”
“Bloody Nora.”
Ignoring my love’s grumbles, I right my robe and squeeze out through the door, managing to leave Bo behind as the hammering starts up again.
“Coming!” I call, crossing the space.
“What, again?” Oliver shouts. “I am fucking amazing!”
“Shush,” I shout, not sure why I’m bothering. Whoever that is can’t hear over the noise of their own racket.
“Where’s the fire?” I call, yanking the door open.
