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“Yes,” she pulled herself tentatively out of his arms. “I wish that you would kiss me—everywhere.”
Everywhere. She wants me to kiss her—
Simon didn’t have time to finish his thought because Marion was slowly and erotically raising her shift up to her thighs.
“Everywhere,” Marion repeated, her fingers catching suggestively against her legs. He saw the long length of her blue stockings up to her knees, the exquisite blue ribbons resting there, begging to be pulled loose. Simon didn’t need to be told again.
“Of course, my love,” he growled.
He fell to his knees before her, letting his fingers and teeth muddle together against the warm flesh, unrolling the stockings. Marion gasped above him but kept lifting her shift. His lips followed. He rained kisses down along the creamy exposed flesh of her thighs. Then he pressed his nose against the dark tangle of curls between her legs as she lifted her shift up over her hips.
“Simon,” she breathed out above him, teasing him by pulling away. Simon growled instinctively, his hands grabbing her hips and holding her in place.
“You said everywhere,” he said hoarsely. “I mean to kiss you everywhere, Marion.”
“Oh, do you now?” Marion whispered.
The pouting tone, the slightly teasing smile, was too much for Simon. He grasped the hem of her shift out of her hands and let it fall over his head, encasing him in a warm cave of fine linen. He loved this secret intimacy as he gently parted her legs and lowered his lips teasingly to press light, fluttery kisses against the hot, tight flesh of her sex. He loved hearing her gasp above him but not being able to see her, feel her hands strain to touch him through the thin veil of her shift, and to sense her pleasure mounting as she began to tip her hips wantonly up to meet his inquisitive tongue.
“Oh God, Simon,” she gasped above him. “Mon dieu!I want you!”
Suddenly she wrenched her shift upwards, and Simon looked up from his prostrate position to admire the naked form of his gasping, glassy-eyed wife above him, breathing in the close, musky scent of her arousal. He felt absurdly gratified to have brought her to this state when she had been so coy, so teasing with him, driving him to distraction with her agonizingly erotic undressing. Now she was there, naked and bare, the scars of the attack visible but the beauty of her so undeniable.
She shook her head slightly, encouraging her black waves of thick hair to fall down over her full, magnificent breasts with the hard, so enticing berry-red nipples and the sharp edges of her collarbone. She was like a picture from ancient times, and she looked at him with fear and excitement in her dark, restless eyes. He saw the carnal need inside her, the need to be met and known, and felt himself responding. At that moment, all of his impatience vanished. All he wanted was to savour her.
“Simon?” Marion was looking at him with a question in her eyes. Clearly, his pause had unsettled her. “Do you still …,” Marion’s delicate hands touched the bruise at her face, the bruise at her stomach, “…want me?”
Simon’s throat was so tight with desire he didn’t think he would be able to answer, but the plaintive tone in her voice was too much for him. He answered with his body and lips. He stood slowly, kissing his way past the bruises on her stomach, eagerly suckling her nipples and feeling her gasp and arch against him, desperately bending like a reed in his hands so he could take even more of her into his mouth. When he bit down softly, testing that fragile, perfect skin, she cried out with desire.
“Oh, Simon.” Her hands fingered his hair erratically. “Oh, Simon, take me now!”
His body was already furiously betraying his desire, given the prominence of his manhood in his trousers, but he clenched his fists and took a shallow breath. He was overjoyed to have brought her to such a place of pleasure—he was ecstatic about it, but he needed to be careful.
“I want you very much, my darling,” he said hoarsely, answering her earlier question. “And there is nothing I want more than to be close to you. To be inside of you.”
Her eyes widened at his words, dark and glossy with need and she began to pant a little, her breath coming in shortened gasps. He knew she found speaking about their intimacy as arousing as he did.
“You have no idea how desperately I have longed for you. How I have wanted to bury myself inside you—”
“Then do it.” Marion’s eyes blazed and she reached for his hips, pulling their bodies together so that her warm, slick thighs were pressed against his trousers. She had clearly had enough of words for the time being. Simon groaned, throwing back his head and trying to control himself.
“I don’t want to harm you,” he gasped, his hands nevertheless finding their way to her hips and to her wonderful, naked behind. He closed his eyes, furiously trying to control himself.
“You could never hurt me,” Marion whispered. “But if you are worried...let us go slowly.”
She took hold of one of his hands and drew it around to the front of her body, encouraging him to slip his finger inside her. She moaned a little, lifting her leg and wrapping it around his to anchor herself, and Simon felt the miraculous warmth of her around him, clenching and releasing. Even though he was worried about her, he couldn’t help but delve a little deeper, feeling for that rim of nerves that made Marion sucked her breath in tightly when he brushed his finger tip across.
“How does it feel, my love?” he murmured, watching her dark eyelashes flutter as her eyes closed. He loved to do this to her, to ask her to put words to the sensations inside that were so new and fresh to her.
“God, that - that feels—” Marion could barely speak, rendered mute and gasping as he swept his finger over that special spot once again. She clung to him, naked and desperate, her face nuzzling against his naked chest and her wet flesh pressed against his trousers.
“How does it feel, Marion?” he demanded, applying his thumb at a slightly different spot and hearing her squeak with surprise and delight. He was fully in control now, and he bit down gently on her flushed neck, commanding a response. God, how he lived for these moments when she was pliant and gasping and speaking such perfectly erotic words to him.
“It’s not enough,” Marion panted. “I - I want more. I want us to be connected, I want—...” Marion kissed him deeply, intensely, and then finished her sentence with her lips pressed tightly against his. “I want you.”
Simon made himself pause, though it took every ounce of self-control that he had to do so, forced himself to look into her eyes and look for any doubt or fear. All he saw was hunger, a hunger for him that he felt tenfold for her. He nodded gently, pulling up her other leg to wrap around him and lowering her onto the bed, tangling his hands in her hair as it fanned out around her. He fumbled to shed his trousers, groaning as his flesh broke free and found the warm skin of her thighs. He knew he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself when he felt her soft and hot, squirming and relinquishing underneath him, and he gasped away from her kisses.
Trembling, he said, “I want you so much, Marion. I fear I cannot be gentle or slow.”
