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She pressed the fingertips of her right hand against his lips. “When you win.”
His lips itched to kiss her fingers. She lowered her hand before he gave in to temptation. “When we win the championship, the media attention will increase. Have you thought of that? It would be the Monarchs’ first championship in more than ten years. A win will extend our season for another month, too. Could you handle that?”
Marilyn’s gaze was steady on his. “I know how much the championship ring means to you. Whatever we decide about our marriage, I’ll never root against you. Ever.”
Besides, “Yes, I’ll marry you,” those words were the sweetest she’d ever spoken to him.
He cleared his throat. “Whatever you decide. I know what I want. You.”
Her features softened. Her body relaxed. Her eyes darkened with the same need and yearning that twisted inside him. “I want you, too.”
She stepped into him, lifted up on her toes, and pressed her lips to his. Lightning flashed inside him. His body tightened with desire. Suddenly, Warrick wasn’t sleepy anymore.
He swept Marilyn off her feet without breaking contact with her pliant lips. Warrick cradled his wife in his arms as he carried her to their bedroom at the end of the hall. The feather-light touch of her fingers left a path of heat from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck. She sighed his name, parting her lips for the sweep of his tongue. Her taste heated him from the inside out.
Warrick crossed into their bedroom, not stopping until he reached the bed. He freed Marilyn’s legs, then held her close as he let himself fall backward onto the mattress. She laughed as she landed with a bounce on top of him. The carefree laughter of a woman in love. His muscles tightened at the sound. He held her close and kissed her deep, thirsty for the joy that had all but drained from their marriage.
Marilyn’s body softened against him. The scent of jasmine clouded his mind. Her arms and legs moved restlessly over his. Her kisses scorched him. Her caresses burned him. Her desire branded him a champion. She needed him, wanted him, believed in him. In her embrace, there wasn’t room for doubts.
She broke their kiss. With fast, efficient movements, Marilyn undressed him. A tug here, a yank there and he found himself wearing nothing but his underpants. Her desire for him was almost painfully exciting.
He tried to smile through his arousal. “I didn’t know you were a magician.”
Marilyn’s grin was mouthwateringly wicked. “It’s not magic. It’s motivation.”
His eyes tracked her tongue around her lips. His body throbbed. “You’re still dressed.”
She rolled to his left side and lay on her back. “How motivated are you?”
Warrick’s laughter eased the tightness in his chest and beyond. He raised up on his side and played with the top button of her nightgown. “Highly.”
Marilyn held her breath as Warrick’s long, nimble fingers released the remaining buttons of her gown and peeled apart the edges. The tip of his finger traced the curve of her breast. Marilyn’s nipple puckered. Her breath exhaled on a quivering sigh. Her eyelids drifted closed.
Warrick’s body was above her. His heat was around her. His mouth was on hers. And when his tongue slipped past her lips, her toes curled. Marilyn kissed him back, hard and deep. She strained into him, rocked under him. His hard, hot palm traveled up her thigh, over her hip and past her waist to cup her bare breast.
When had he removed her clothes?
Marilyn groaned and released his mouth. “Now who has the magic?” Her voice was husky.
Warrick’s sexy grin left her breathless. Marilyn sighed as he kissed the spot behind her ear. She moaned as his teeth nipped her neck, shivered as his tongue trailed her collarbone.
His lips and tongue followed a path over her breast. Marilyn held her breath. Her right nipple pinched tighter as he drew closer. She gasped when his mouth closed over her breast, stroking its tip and suckling her nipple. Marilyn’s hips undulated beneath him. Blood rushed hot and fast through her veins. Her heart pounded in her ears. She gripped the bedsheets in her fists.
Warrick raised his head. He blew a soft, warm breath over her nipple. Marilyn bit her bottom lip at the intense feeling. Her body wouldn’t—couldn’t—remain still. She pressed the tips of her fingers into the taut muscles of his back. Her hips strained toward Warrick. His hips pressed into hers. Two strips of clothing—his and hers—separated her from what she wanted most.
“Rick, I need you now.” Her words were thin and brittle in her ears.
Warrick released her breast. His left hand followed her curves to her hips. Shifting his body, he slipped his hand inside her lingerie. Marilyn groaned as she felt herself dampen against his fingertips.
“I need you, too, Mary. I’ll always need you.” His words husked against her ear.
Warrick moved down her body, kissing and licking her exposed skin. He pulled her silk underwear—the last remaining article of clothing—from her pliant body and stood to shed his briefs. Marilyn’s thighs went lax at the sight of his full arousal.
He climbed back onto the bed. Marilyn rose to her knees to meet him. As he knelt before her, she skimmed her fingernails over the spare flesh of his torso, marveling again at his strength and power. She lifted her gaze to his midnight eyes and lowered her right palm to cup him. His hips pressed into her hand. Marilyn stroked him until he grew even hotter and harder to her touch. Warrick’s body shook and he reached for her. Marilyn pressed him onto the mattress and straddled him.
She swallowed hard as she lowered herself onto his rigid erection. Warrick gripped her hips, helping them settle into a rhythm that was fresh yet familiar. She rocked with him. She worked her hips against him. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her breath caught in her throat. She closed her eyes and arched her back.
Warrick slid his large, hot hands up her torso to palm her breasts. Marilyn moaned as he massaged her sensitized skin. She rode him harder and faster as he rubbed her nipples and pinched their tips.
