4
Saylor
His eyes darken. I intently watch as he strips off his shirt and tosses it aside. “On the bed, baby.” His voice is deep and thick with desire.
A shiver races up my spine.
Doing as he asks, I ease onto the bed, in the center, my gaze on him. My eyes follow him in the glow of the candlelight as he makes his way to my roses, the same type of bouquet he’s given me every year. He plucks one out of the vase before disappearing into the bathroom. I stay still, waiting. The anticipation of what he’s going to do next takes hold. My thighs quiver because my body knows. It knows what he can do to me. It knows how he does exactly what’s needed to turn me on.
“Hey.” He climbs on the bed next to me, rose still in hand. “Had to get rid of those thorns,” he says, in the way of an explanation before he bends to kiss the corner of my mouth.
“Why?” My voice doesn’t sound like my own.
“This.” He takes the silky rose petal and gently swipes it over my hard nipple—one then the next. He doesn’t stop there. He traces the column of my neck and slides the bud between my breasts. My breathing accelerates as he softly caresses me with his symbol of our marriage.
“I need you.” The words are a whisper, but I know he hears them.
“Where do you need me, baby?” he asks. “Here?” He again traces my breasts, sure to drag the bud over my nipples. “Maybe here?” A slow descent takes place as he glides the rose down my belly and stops just above my pussy. Where I need him. Lifting my hips, I seek more of whatever he’s willing to give me. Just more.
“There,” I moan as he guides the rose petal lower. Never in a million years would I have thought that could be a turn-on. And in reality, maybe it’s not the rose. Maybe it’s just Rhett and the anticipation, but in this moment, my body burns for more.
More of his touch. More of him.
My breathing is labored, and my body is on fire. I fight the urge to squeeze my thighs together. “Please,” I beg.
I watch in fascination as he brings the flower to his nose and inhales. Pulling back, he looks at the bud and grins. “You’re wet for me.” Before I can make a smartass remark that he knows is coming, he turns the rose and shows me his evidence. The petals he just stroked over my sex are wet from my desire for him. He’s toying with me. Taking his time might sound romantic, but it’s driving me crazy.
Well, two can play that game.
As I close my eyes, I glide my hand slowly over my breasts. I pinch my nipple and my back arches off the bed. I hear him suck in a breath and inwardly smile. I’ve got his attention. Sliding my hand further, I don’t stop until I reach my pussy, taking two fingers and circling my clit.
“Saylor,” he growls, a low sound deep in his chest.
“So wet,” I moan.
“Fuck,” he hisses, and I know I’ve got him.
I open my eyes just in time to see him move to hover over me. I spread my legs, making room for him, and he settles between my thighs where he belongs. I don’t stop teasing my clit. His whiskey-colored eyes grow dark as night. “Your pleasure is mine,” he says, barely holding onto his control.
“Show me.”
He nods and, in one swift thrust, he’s buried deep inside of me. “Move your hand,” he says, and I do as he says. We both know I don’t need any help getting there with him inside me. Especially not tonight. I can’t remember a time I’ve ever been this hot for him. Not even all those years ago when our relationship was still brand-new.
I slide my hand out of the way, and he smirks. “Hold onto me.” I do as he asks, sliding my hands under his arms to grip his back. He pulls out and slams back in. Over and over again, thrust after thrust, he takes me. My nails dig into his skin, and my legs tighten around his waist as I hold on for the ride.
One more deep thrust and he stops. He rolls over, taking me with him. I settle on top of him, bracing my hands on his chest and begin to move. He sits up, and his cock slides deeper. His hands grip my face as his lips crash with mine. I don’t stop moving. No. I grind against him, seeking the sweet release that only he can give me. His hands fall from my face and wrap around my body, holding us impossibly close. I don’t stop seeking the sweet oblivion that I feel building inside me.
“I need….” My voice trails off. I can feel it. The pressure builds. I’m there. I just need… more.
“I’ve got you,” he says. His hands fall to my hips, and he lifts me slightly, then pulls me back down onto his hard length. Over and over he does this until I crumble into a million pieces. Tingles race through my body.
“Fuck,” he says, his lips next to my ear, and I feel him pulse inside me. That alone sends another tidal wave of pleasure coursing through my veins.
My arms wrap around his neck, and I bury my face there as well. His strong hands gently trace up and down my spine. “Happy Anniversary, Short Stack.”
“Best. Anniversary. Ever,” I say between pants, making him laugh.
“Oh, yeah?”