He kisses my mouth. “That’s very sweet.”
“I’m not! I don’t care that you’ve worked your way through the female population of Auckland.”
He laughs like the idea is ridiculous—like I’m the only woman he sees. “Hardly.”
“I don’t mind being another notch on your bedpost. I bet there are so many it looks like a giant washboard.”
For some reason, he seems to find that funny. He rinses off my conditioner, then turns off the shower, still laughing, and leads me out. “Let me dry you.”
I tug the towel from him. “I can do it.”
His eyes blaze, and then, without warning, he scoops me up in his arms, towel and all, and carries me out into the bedroom. I squeal, and then the breath leaves my body as he tosses me onto the bed, and I bounce.
Annoyed that I am jealous at the thought of him being with other women, and irritated that he finds it funny, I roll onto my front and go to crawl to the other side of the bed, but he grabs my ankle, pulls me back down the bed, then climbs on top of me.
He lowers down, pressing me into the mattress, and nips my ear with his teeth. “You drive me crazy, Wren Carter.”
“Mars! Get off me.”
“No. Now I’m going to show you exactly what you do to me. How much you drive me insane with lust. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Marcus
Wren’s sudden and unexpected flare of jealousy has set fireworks off inside me. If she’s jealous, it means she has feelings for me beyond wanting me to give her a baby, and the two things combined are enough to send bells ringing in my head.
“My innocent little Birdy,” I growl into her ear, chuckling as she gasps indignantly and wriggles beneath me. As I move my hips, my erection slides through her ass cheeks. She squeals and buries her face in a pillow.
“I adore you,” I tell her, kissing her neck and sliding a hand beneath her to tug on her nipple.
“Don’t try to be all romantic,” she scoffs. “You just want to fuck me senseless.”
“If you mean do I want to make love to my beautiful wife and bring her to orgasm multiple times, the answer’s yes.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You want to fuck me.”
“Wren…”
“Go on, admit it.” Her face is flushed, and her eyes blaze as she looks at me over her shoulder.
I meet her gaze for a moment. Then I sit up. I reach over to the bedside table and retrieve the lube, squeeze some onto my fingers, and stroke my cock until I’m well lubricated.
Finally, I press a knee between hers to open them and slide my fingers down between her legs. She’s already moist and swollen, and my lubed fingers glide easily into her. She buries her face back in the pillow and moans as I stroke them in and out of her, and then slide them underneath her, to circle over her clit.
“Oh God…” She sighs.
“To clarify,” I murmur in her ear as I continue to arouse her, “I think you’re beautiful, and I love your body, and I think about making love to you every second of every day.” I kiss her neck. “I think about kissing you, and touching your soft skin, and sucking your nipples, and turning you on until you’re begging me to take you.”
She mumbles something incoherent into the pillow.
“And fantasize about filling you up with my cock, and how it feels to be inside you.” I suck her earlobe, still arousing her with my fingers. “And I think about taking you right to the edge, and then what sound you’re going to make next time when you come, and whether you’ll say my name.”
“Ohhh…”
“So when you ask me if I want to fuck you senseless, I suppose, technically, I have to answer yes. But you’re my wife. Which means it’s so much more than that. Because I love you, and I want to give you pleasure. Are we clear?”
She groans.
