By the time he’d finished with both her breasts, her chest heaved as she panted. The firm globes of flesh were clean, damp and gleaming from his tongue. He was becoming unbearably aroused. There was something important he had to do before he lost his head in the heat of lust.
“Lower your hands to your belly,” he said. “I’m going to paint your fingers.”
She did so. He spent the next several minutes painting her fingers and one by one, laving off the paint with his searching tongue. A shudder went through her when he dragged his front teeth along the length of her last paint-covered digit—her ring finger.
“There’s something missing here,” he said gruffly, sucking the digit back into his mouth.
“The paint? It’s running down your throat,” she teased, watching him warmly.
“No, not the paint. This,” he said, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans.
He slipped the ring onto her finger.
“Maybe it’s not fair asking you while I have you at my mercy, but the truth is, I’ll take whatever advantage I can get.” He kissed her knuckles. “Will you marry me, Joy?”
He could tell by her flat, stunned expression that she hadn’t entirely absorbed what was happening. Finally, she blinked. He saw her eyes narrow as she stared at the flashing diamond solitaire he’d just placed on her finger. He waited on tenterhooks.
“I hope you like it. I picked it out, but Katie helped me. If you don’t like it, we can exchange it for another—”
She stared at him with an amazed expression.
“I love it.”
“Does that mean the answer is yes?” he asked hopefully.
Her smile was incredulous, but radiant. “Yes,” she said in a pressured whisper.
“Good. I guess that means I can uncuff you then, seeing as how you’ve agreed and all,” he joked. She laughed as he dug for the key for the leather cuffs.
“I can’t believe it,” she said after he removed the cuffs. A tear had fallen down her cheek. She lifted her left hand and gazed at the ring and then his face in dawning wonder.
“Why can’t you believe it? Did you really think I wasn’t going to make an honest woman of you?”
“No. I can’t believe it’s possible to be this happy,” she said simply.
His eyes smarted a little when he blinked. She started to sit up, one hand outstretched as if to embrace him, but he gently lowered her back so that her head again rested on the pillow.
“I want to finish.” He ran his hand over her belly, his fingers skimming the strip of skin above her pubic hair. “I want to thank you for letting me into your world. I know it wasn’t easy for you. I’m always going to be there for you, Joy.”
“I know,” she said in a choked voice, several more tears skittering down her cheek. “Thank you for not giving up on me, Everett. I’m always going to be there for you, as well.”
He smiled and picked up the little container of chocolate paint. “I saved the best for last.”
She whimpered and sighed as he carefully painted the liquid onto the lips of her outer sex and clit. She watched him with a tight focus, so much love in her eyes, as he set aside the paint and knelt between her thighs. He slid the tip of his tongue between the tender folds and agitated her clit. The taste of Joy’s sweet musk mingling with the chocolate made him a little wild. He tongued off her labia carefully and then spread the lips wide, making her swollen clit his captive target. He stiffened his tongue and agitated the sensitive kernel of flesh ruthlessly, his actions unapologetically lewd and demanding.
He became so lost in his desire, he barely noticed her tense pleas or the sensation of her fingers tangling in his short hair or even her nails scraping his scalp. He opened his hand over her hip, the fingers of his other hand keeping her lips spread, making her immobile, insisting she take all the pleasure he could give her.
By the time he felt her shudder in release, there wasn’t a trace of chocolate left. Only Joy’s sweet cream coated his tongue and throat.
His breathing sounded harsh to his own ears as he clawed at his jeans and underwear, desperate to be rid of his clothing. He stifled a curse when he entered her tight, warm embrace. He leaned over her, his arms holding him off her, his naked cock buried deep inside her. A spasm of pleasure rippled through him as he stared down at Joy’s perspiration-dampened face and rapt expression.
“You’re going to be my wife,” he said, feeling a savage sense of pride and possession.
“And you my husband,” she said, awe crossing her features as she caressed his bunched arm muscles. She met his stare. “For better and for worse.”
“And every blessed thing in between,” Everett said before he began to move.
* * *