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When the room submerged into complete blackness and she could hear nothing but her heart pounding in her ears and her mind screaming Noooo! Mason was completely silent. And then he touched her. She sighed. A thousand bits of tension scattered away by that single touch of his fingers along her shoulder and down her arm. He didn’t forget. Everything would be fine.
His fingers sought out hers. They linked hands and he drew her palm to his mouth and placed a soft kiss there. “Come here, Lib.”
Scooting over on the bed, the gentle touch of his right hand coasted over her thighs, gathering and pulling the silk of her gown. A quiet but intentional moan slipped past her lips so he understood she was enjoying herself. Mason was usually very good about preparing her with long moments of caresses and tender petting, but Liberty was already drenched between her thighs, almost embarrassingly so. She sort of wanted him to get to it, but would never suggest such a thing.
Mason easily pulled her thighs apart and rolled to his side in the dark. As his mouth began to kiss her shoulder and neck his fingers worked their way to her pussy. He paused for the briefest second as his fingers discovered the wet mark saturating the satin of her panties. He tried to hide his surprise, but Liberty knew him too well. That second after touching her drenched folds as he stilled, processing his discovery, drawing comparisons, was spiked with a moment’s shame. She was grateful the darkness hid her shameful expression.
He worked her panties down her narrow hips and Libby did her best to shimmy out of them the rest of the way and kick them aside. The thin satin straps of her gown slipped over her shoulders and she arched as Mason’s hand found her breast. Strong palms cupped her flesh. She was only a B cup, but he never complained. However, sometimes Liberty wondered if she had larger breasts if he would play with them more, perhaps pinch and tug at the tips and softly bite the tender parts.
It wasn’t long before he was on top of her and fitting his cock into her sex. Shame for how eager she secretly was twisted low in her stomach. A desire to rush warred with her struggle to stay in control of her emotions. Finally, he slid into her.
They fit together nicely. Mason had a large cock, not abnormally so, according to what she learned about the male anatomy in magazines, but it was wide and Liberty loved the way it stretched her. As always he took measured strokes, never going unnecessarily fast and never pressing in too deep. It was pleasant. It was always pleasant—but as always, Liberty never came and Mason never pressed the issue.
A rumble of satisfaction purred from deep within Mason’s chest. Warmth spread within her channel and Liberty sighed. Just like always, Mason finished with an affectionate kiss. “I love you.”
Like hunger, her need was sated, but not to the degree an exquisite banquet could satisfy her. Pasta with wine was nice, but champagne, filet mignon, and lobster was better.
“I love you, too.”
A few moments later, Mason was already falling asleep as Liberty returned from the bathroom. Her panties were on the floor and she tossed them into the laundry chute then slipped a clean pair on. Climbing into bed, she refused to mourn her lack of release, because Mason was her everything, and her love was enough to sustain her. Softly sighing, she shut her eyes.
Chapter Two
Mason awoke to the delicious scent of bacon and had no doubt that Liberty had already been up for hours. Climbing out of bed, he stretched his tall, lean body and yawned until his jaw popped. His fingers adjusted his cock as it bobbed proudly before him as he moved into the bathroom and started the shower. As if she had the hearing of a bat, music filled the house not two minutes after he began to move around. This morning’s choice of music—Coldplay. Lovely.
Steam from Libby’s shower lingered in the large ultra-feminine bathroom as Mason brushed his teeth. It didn’t bother him that his master bath was filled with decadent female frills and luxuries. Liberty was an incredible wife and she deserved to be pampered much more than she ever allowed him to do for her. She took pride in doing for herself and others, so he knew, when he was having their home designed, that the only way to ensure she treated herself to some regular pampering was to make it available to her around the clock.
The best hotels of New York and Paris couldn’t claim a bath as luxurious as the one he’d created for his wife. The circular design was one of a kind. The upholstered sitting chair beside the tub was large enough to fit five grown men. It was custom made, as was the vanity seat. The fabrics came from India and the tile from Italy. All of the wide trim work was custom made by a local carpenter who retired years ago, but Mason found his price and tempted him out of retirement.
