Page 79 of The Bastard's Iberian Bride
Instinct made her hips move. Somehow he had filled her again, and she ached,achedto feel that explosion of bliss once more. Desire built in her, flooded her, and she sensed she could feelitagain even without his wicked mouth on her.
He lifted her, dropped her, showing her what he wanted. She wanted it too. She rode him, watched him while he watched her, until the ache overtook her, the pressure unbearable, and ecstasy, waves of it, exploded within her, and he clamped her tight and moaned out his own release, pulsing within her in rumbling vibrations.
She collapsed on his chest. The short hair there tickled her nose, and she turned her head to his neck.
His breathing eased and became regular, the pulse in his neck smoothing out, his scent filling her nose. She stuck her tongue out, tasted saltiness, and chuckled.
This was the reason a woman took a husband. Marriage was good for something after all.
“Is it always like that?” she asked.
“Hmm?”
“Is it always like that?”
He opened one eye. “Now how would I know?”
