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Much later, they rummaged around in the kitchen and found… not much, to be honest.

Felicity pulled a face. “We desperately need to go to Sainsbury’s and stock up.” She laughed, and brought out a box of cocoa pops from the pantry.

Then she sat on his lap and they ate cocoa pops from the box with one spoon, washed down with half a bottle of Beaujolais left on the bench. Frankly, the combination tasted disgusting, but neither of them cared.

Then, with a little smile, Felicity got up and led him back to the bedroom.

Standing in front of him, she undid the tie of her dressing gown and dropped it off her shoulders. He watched her breasts pop out, her perky beautiful nipples pointing straight at him.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she squeezed her breasts together and gave him her most coquettish smile.

All Oliver could do was stand there, chest heaving and his boxer shorts suddenly way too small.

She licked her lips. “Hey, my love, I’m offering.”

“I can see that.”

“Are you buying?”

With a strangled sound deep in his throat, he ripped off his boxers and his cock bobbed free. “Oh, god!” he groaned. “It feels so damn selfish.”

“Selfish because I want to give a gift to the man I love?” Her eyebrows tilted up. “A gift that happens to turn me on as much as it does him?”

Still, he hesitated.

“You’ve already given me a scream-the-house-down orgasm tonight.” Her voice was deep and husky with desire, her eyes the deepest, brightest blue, and with all that glorious red hair tumbling around her shoulders, she was totally irresistible.

Now he was standing close. So close. He groaned again and dove his fingers in her hair, and she wound her arms around him. He felt the warm pressure of her palms tugging him towards her.

She gazed up at him, eyes brimful of promises. “So, I repeat, my beautiful man, I’m offering… are you buying?”

With a growl of “Oh, hell, yeah!” Oliver gave himself to the woman he loved.

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