Page 51 of Brant
The breathless sound of his name on her lips had him surging even more.
"Tell me you want me," he demanded harshly.
"I need you," she said instead.
"Better." Bending his head, he tugged a nipple into his mouth and simply gorged. Her hands gripped his head to keep him there while she slowly undulated her hips. His hands wandered down her back to grip her buttocks, fingers digging into her skin. She was destroying every shred of control. Piece by piece, he felt himself shattering.
This woman, this amazingly wonderful woman he had married, suited him in every way. Outside, just a few minutes ago, she had rolled around with him in the snow, pealing with unaffected laughter, showing that her unhappy childhood had not quelled her vivacity. And now she had culminated their time together by drawing a bath and seducing him.
He never thought it was possible to love someone so much. It filled him and then some. It poured through him, heating his blood and sending him into unparalleled degrees of wonder and delight.
He would love her until his dying breath. He adored her, and that would never change.
She came, clinging to him, digging into his dense hair, riding him hard and fast, her breath whooshing out. The suds streamed over the lip of the tub, but they weren't even aware of it. The room steamed up as their passion took over. He came, driving upward, his head lifting from her nipples to seize her lips, the kiss hungry and demanding.
When it was over, she sagged against him, her face buried on his shoulder, breathing labored.
For a few minutes, they just stayed that way, with his arms wrapped around her, holding her against him. He did not want to move. He was buried deep inside her and wanted to stay in that position forever.
"The water is cooling."
"Hmm." He kissed her exposed cheek. "You're forgiven."
She laughed softly. "I'd better be."
He bathed her. While she was drinking wine, he took up the soft sponge and ran it over her back, after which he ordered her to turn around so he could do her front. When they had finished, he wrapped her in towels as soft as clouds and led her into the bedroom.
By the time they had finished their bath (and hot bath sex!), the sun had gone down and darkness had descended. He refused her offer to cook and suggested some chunky vegetable soup the housekeeper had left in the freezer. They ate it along with the sourdough bread that Mrs. Holt had left in the bread basket.
Bundled up in a thick robe and leaning against him, Indigo ate her meal and stared in awe at the snow-covered scenery spread out before them. The white substance clung to the green leaves of the palm and redwood trees. They had heard the sound of the snowplow and looked out to see the man clearing the drive and walkways.
"Will we always be this happy?" she wondered aloud as she broke off a chunk of bread and absently fed him a piece.
His arm was wrapped around her shoulders, and he was eating with one hand.
"We will fight. But the makeup sex will make it worthwhile," he told her teasingly.
Her indelicate snort had him laughing. "Typical male."
"I happen to be one. And don't pretend that you're not hooked as well. You were the one who initiated the scene in the bathroom."
"Which reminds me that we have to clean up the mess."
"No, we don't. Mrs. Holt will be here in the morning."
Tilting her head back, she gave him a wry look. "There's no way we're leaving that wet floor with clothes and damp towels strewn all over for that poor woman."
"That 'poor woman,' as you put it, makes more in a week than some people working in offices make in a month. She doesn't mind cleaning up the mess."
She stared at him. "Exactly how much does she make?" she asked curiously.
He told her a figure that had her staring at him, her mouth open. "You're joking."
He merely grinned at her. "Am I? I told you she's been with the family for years, and she's very good at what she does."
"But, but..." She could not comprehend it. "It's... oh goodness!"
"No wonder she protests when I try to step on her territory. Who wouldn't want to work for that amount of money?"
