Page 123 of The Rogue and His Flower

“Is that so?” she laughs as my fingers edge beneath the towel, tugging on it.

“Uh huh,” I murmur, easing open the towel, sucking in a ragged breath at her bare skin and tight nipples.

My fingers trail around her breasts, circling them, but not cupping them as I draw ever decreasing circles across the swell of her tits.

“You’re very good at this,” she says, her breath hitching as I pinch her nipples, tugging on them.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” I say, instantly regretting my words when she stiffens.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Are you jealous, wife?”

“A little,” she admits.

“You’ve no need to be. No one has affected me the way you do,” I reply, leaning over her as I stand between her parted legs, and brace my hands on the island on either side of her body.

“That’s good to know…husband,” she adds, knowing full well what hearing her say that does to me.

“I like being your husband,” I say, pressing my lips against the curve of her neck, and my words into her skin.

“I like it too,” she replies, sighing as I feather kisses over her shoulder blade.

“And I especially like making you come.”

“I enjoy that as well. So, so much…”

Her breath catches as I dip downwards and circle her nipple with my tongue, before suctioning it into my mouth. She arches into my touch, her body responding beautifully as I cup her other breast, my thumb circling her nipples, eliciting another soft moan. Still sucking on her, I reach between her legs, swiping my fingers between her slit, gathering her wetness before circling her clit.

“Fuck, you’re always so wet for me. Do you realise how much that turns me on, knowing what I do to you?”

“I hadn’t noticed,” she laughs, dropping her hand to my erection, squeezing it gently.

“I’m always so fucking hard for you, Daisy. I can’t get enough.”

She whimpers as I enter her tight cunt, plunging my finger in and out of her in a steady, even rhythm, loving how she blushes for me. It makes her seem so fucking pure, and yet she’s a vixen, so eager to please me, to receive pleasure.

“Get up onto the counter,” I demand, removing my hand from between her legs as I grip her around the waist and hoist her onto the marble countertop before she’s even had a chance to do it herself.

“What are you doing?” she asks, as I round the counter and head towards the fridge, pulling open the door and gathering the freshly cut fruit left over from our lunch earlier, placing the plate on the surface beside her.

“You want to eat right now?” she asks, eyeing me with raised brows.

“Yes,” I reply, picking up a slither of papaya, and returning to her. “Now lie back.”

She doesn’t hesitate, curious, yet willing.

Lowering the slice of papaya to her lips I say, “Open your mouth, taste.”

She parts her lips and I slide the slice of papaya between them. She hums, her eyes never once leaving mine as she tastes the sweet juices.

“Don’t take a bite, just yet,” I order, pulling it free, remnants of juice on her lips as I lower my mouth and kiss her softly. She reaches up to grasp my face, deepening the kiss, but I pull back shaking my head. “You kiss me like you can’t get enough.”

“That’s because I can’t,” she admits as I trail the papaya over her chin and down her neck, loving how the juice glistens on her skin, leaving a slick trail for me to taste.

“Good,” I mutter, my attention focussing on her face as I swirl the papaya over her erect nipples, chasing the juice withmy tongue. The sweetness explodes on my tongue as I draw her nipple into my mouth, sucking on her.

“That feels so good,” she whispers as I pull back and drag the piece of fruit lower, dipping it into her belly button before heading to her slick pussy, my tongue lapping at the trail of juice.

---