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Her soft, sensuous mouth curved. “Willing and able and reporting for duty.”
He kissed her, probing the warm, receptive cave of her mouth with his tongue, anticipating probing every part of her until she screamed with pleasure.
“This calls for wine,” she whispered when he finally freed her, “to mark the occasion.”
“I agree, and I know just the way to enjoy it properly.” He lifted her, carried her, and sat her down on the edge of the table. He opened her legs and stood between them, just inches from her pussy. She wanted him there, and that alone made him feel like a king. Easing the velvet dress up a couple of inches, he admired the look of her pussy through the sheer lace underwear she had on, and then reached for the bottle. Popping the cork, he poured one glass out and handed it to her.
Watching as she sipped from the glass, he plucked the velvet neckline on her dress, observing as her nipples hardened beneath the fabric. “Now that’s settled, let’s back up a bit, back to the part about you being a rampant sex goddess.”
She gulped and spilt the wine from the corner of her mouth, her hand moving quickly to wipe it. He halted her hand and moved it away, then licked the corner of her mouth, slowly. She moaned softly, her eyes closing, her body leaning toward his.
“I was serious, it’s in you and it always was.” Drawing his fingers over the velvety dress where it covered her breasts, he teased her. He knew full well that she wasn’t wearing a bra under the stretchy fabric.
She strained for more, her body exuding lush female power.
“Don’t you think you might have been like this, even if you hadn’t come into contact with her?”
She laughed softly, her body still arching under his touch. Her eyes challenged him. “Maybe. So long as I’d met you.”
“What does that mean?”
Still she resisted him. He wanted to hear her say those precious words. He took the glass from her hand. Once he’d set it down, he tugged her dress up, pulling it out from under her bottom and off, over her head, before he eased her back so that she was lying down the length of the table. “Well, what does it mean?”
“I wanted you badly,” she breathed. “I want you really badly now.”
He loved the way that sounded, but there was more. He put his hand on her lace-covered pussy, and pressed.
“Oh, oh.” She writhed, her arms rolling together above her head, her bare breasts cheeky and indolent. The white globes were firm and peaked, the tips dark and hard. He ran his fingernails over her torso from breast to pussy, scoring her body possessively.
She sat up, gasping. “I love you, Gray!”
Silence.
Neither of them moved, and then her eyes flickered. She was afraid. Even though they had committed to giving it a try, she wasn’t sure of him. She soon would be.
“I know,” he teased. “Annabel told me. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
“You rotter! You and Annabel talking about me behind my…back. Er, front?” She laughed. “I love you, satisfied?” She put her hands flat to the table, her shoulders lifting. It made her breasts squish together in the most delicious way. Her eyes were downcast, her cheeks red.
“Yes, very satisfied. And I love you, Zoë. I think I always did, right from the moment I saw you staring into the forest, like the lost wood nymph who’d finally found home.”
A tender smile lifted her mouth. “You’re a hard man to please,” she whispered, her voice tight with emotion. When she looked up at him, her eyes shone with withheld tears.
“Yes, but you do it, sweetheart, you do it every time.” He put one finger under her chin, refusing to let her look away again. This was hard for both of them, because of all the very reasons she’d stated. Neither of them had been given much of an idea how to do the couple thing. “I love you so much that it hurts.”
“Good!” She flashed her eyes at him, smiling.
“Now lie down. I haven’t had any wine yet and I know exactly how I want it.”
She did as he requested, watching with curiosity as he lifted the bottle and poured some of the frothy sparkling wine into her navel.
“Gray!”
He lowered his mouth and lapped up the wine. The soft curve of her abdomen shivered, and she whispered words of love to him. Pleased, he moved on. Holding one full breast in his hand, he poured some wine over her nipple and sucked it deeply.
A string of incoherent words spilled from her mouth and she bucked, and—much to his great surprise—came right there and then. Impressed, he repeated that trick on the other breast, stringing it out longer by licking around her nipple until she begged him to stop, then he sucked on the hard nub until she let loose that primal cry that made his balls tight.
Pacing himself, he poured some wine over the front of her sheer black G-string. He closed his mouth over it, sucking the wine off her and the net of fabric
