Page 45 of The Mister I Married

“One of the things I like most about you is your frankness,” he said. “I rarely have to wonder with you, and I don’t want to wonder tonight. If I do anything you dislike, please tell me so.”

Emmy nodded, touched by his thoughtfulness. “I will.”

“Conversely,” he went on, his smile deepening, “if I do anything you do like, please let me know that, too.”

She pursed her lips. “Will you be taking notes throughout?” she quipped.

“I don’t think I’ll need to,” he said, chuckling softly. “I’m fairly certain I’ll remember every moment of tonight for the rest of my days.”

His eyes were locked on hers as he sat up, his hands slipping the coverlet down to her hips and scattering her thoughts. He stroked her belly, her waist, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples until she was panting with need.

“Do you like this?” he asked, gripping her hips. “Do you like my hands on you?”

She did. She truly did. “Yes,” she whispered, her own hands hovering over his, her body alive with want.

He swept the coverlet aside, baring her completely, and she wriggled into the mattress, aroused but suddenly bashful. She’d never been naked in front of a man before, and she was hardly a great beauty. What if he disliked what he saw?

“Christ, you’re lovely,” Alex murmured, smoothing his hands down her thighs, squeezing and shaping as if he loved the feel of her.

And then his mouth was at her breast again, his tongue wet, his teeth nipping as he eased her thighs wider apart with his hands.

His fingers brushed the curls at her sex before dipping lower, grazing her aching flesh, and she sighed, pleasure streaking through her, curling her toes.

“Yes,” she whispered, bending one knee and thrusting into his hand.

“You like this, love?” he asked, his voice rough as granite, his gaze hot on hers.

“Yes,” she panted. God yes.

He stroked her again, his thumb swirling and circling, gloriously firm yet torturously slow.

“Alex,” she groaned, lifting her hips just as he slid a finger inside her, wringing another moan from her lips, and his.

“And this?” he asked, pumping his finger deep. “Do you like this, too?”

She had no answer. She had no words. All she could do was feel, and she felt marvelous everywhere.

“What if I were to put my mouth here?” Alex teased her clitoris with the heel of his palm. “Do you think that would please you?”

Her lips parted on a sharp, shuddering breath, and she gasped, “For God’s sake, Alex, are you trying to torment me?”

“I’m afraid I am,” he murmured, his voice an amused rasp.

Emmy couldn’t help it—she huffed out a little laugh. “Well, do you think you could stop?”

“Yes, I suppose I could.”

“I wish you would,” she said, babbling now as his fingers stroked deep, owning her. “It would please me greatly if you would. Indeed, it would make me—”

He bent his head and kissed her sex, severing her words, and she nearly came off the bed when his lips closed around her clit. He sucked, drawing hard and deep, and that was all it took to shatter her to pieces.

God, his wife was gorgeous.

Alex fell onto the bed beside her and stretched his legs out, feeling inordinately pleased with himself as he admired his handiwork.

Emmy was the picture of satisfaction—eyes closed, breathing ragged, cheeks flushed and glowing.

He’d done that to her.