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“Marcus,” she groaned as he finally slowed his tongue and loosened the suction on that little button of fire between her legs. “Marcus,” she warned, pushing his head away, as he wouldn’t let the pleasure stop rolling over her, again and again. “No more. I can’t stand it.”
***
Marcus wiped his face on the blanket by the inside of her thigh and then climbed up her body to look into her face. Her arms and legs were trembling, and her breaths rushed from her body. “I love you so much,” he said.
“I’ll love you again when I can talk,” she heaved. But she was settling into the counterpane, soft as cotton.
“I like learning about your body,” he said. She grinned, covering her face with her forearm.
“Turnabout is fair play,” she warned. “When I catch my breath, I’m going to start exploring your body.”
“I vaguely remember you getting a good look at my body last time.” He stood up and began to remove his clothes. There was something so erotic about her lying there on the blanket in full daylight completely naked. She didn’t try to hide herself from him. She didn’t try to roll into the counterpane. She lay there, exposed and needy, and she’d never looked more beautiful to him.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked up at him. “You made me tell you all my secrets,” she grumbled.
“And look where it got us. I got to find out how you like it, and I think we get better at this every time we do it.” He climbed on top of her naked, settling between her thighs. “I think we should practice, practice, and practice some more. We do have my mother’s permission.”
“Ick,” she said. “Don’t bring up your mother right now, no matter how amazing she is.”
She sat up on her elbows, and he sat down on the blanket beside her so he could pull his stockings from his feet.
She rolled so that her head was on his thigh, and his manhood rocked toward her. “Goodness,” she teased. “Has a mind of its own, does it?”
“Apparently,” he agreed.
She arched a brow at him. “I want to kiss it,” she said. She looked up and met his gaze, her blue eyes hot in the moment, full of feeling and want.
“I can’t believe you would suggest such an outlandish thing,” he teased. “What has gotten into you?”
“Before we go back, I hope you’ll get into me,” she purred. Then she leaned forward and kissed him softly. Her lips were wet and cool, and it was a short kiss. One that left him wanting. His manhood jumped toward her lips.
“Has a mind of its own,” he warned her.
“I see that,” she laughed. She stuck her tongue out and licked around the purple crest, her tongue tentative and shy, probably as tentative as his had been while he learned her body. “Did you touch yourself when we were apart?” she asked, her voice a hot purr against his skin.
“Only every single day,” he admitted. He’d had one day with her, and then she was gone. So, he’d relived that day over and over and over in his mind.
“Show me what you do,” she said.
“You’re doing just fine.”
“You made me show you mine.”
“And I might make you show me yours again,” he warned.
“Show me,” she pleaded. Then her mouth closed around the crest of him. “You taste salty,” she said.
“So did you,” he told her. He took her hand and wrapped it around his shaft, squeezing it within his own.
“Like this?” she asked, but her mouth was full of him, the silky sweetness of her tongue nearly undoing him.
“Yes,” he groaned. He put his hands in her hair and showed her how to very gently go up and down. “Take a little more,” he urged.
She did, taking him farther into her mouth.
“Stop,” he warned.
“Why?” she asked, talking around him.
