Page 20 of The Best Husband Money Can Buy

“As long as we both shall live,” he said huskily as he moved his lips to her throat.

Her arms came around him hard, and once again they were flesh to flesh. But this embrace was not for warmth or consolation. It was wholly carnal as the desire in him sang to the sleeping desire in her.

Her response was hesitant at first, but as honest and true as Emma herself. He caressed her lavish, womanly body, searching for what pleased her, and discovered that everything did. Every touch, every kiss. Every gentle exploration, every discovery of a new, secret place.

Despite the urgency of his own craving, he took his time. It was very much in his best interest for her to be a joyous, ardent partner. The longer he denied himself now, the more unselfishly he wooed her, the greater the reward for them both.

He pleasured her until she gasped with wonder, her body convulsing and her arms locking desperately around him. Then, when her ragged breathing slowed, he claimed the final intimacy that made her his wife. At first she stiffened from the pain. Panting with the effort of restraint, he held still and soothed her with soft words and gentle kisses until she relaxed and began to rock against him.

Together they found a rhythm that went from mutual exploration to fierce possession to the final madness. And in the end, she cried out his name in a voice that pierced him to the heart.

They both collapsed, spent and shaking. He buried his face in her thick silky hair as he struggled for breath. How strange that he, who considered himself a master of the amatory arts, should have learned so much from her. His sweet, wise, brave wife.

As his breathing slowed, he rolled onto his side and drew her once again into his arms. Soon she was asleep, her head trustingly on his shoulder.

He stayed awake a little longer, drowsy but struck by the wonder of what had taken place between. Letting his hand rest in her tangled hair, he murmured, “My one and only.” Then he, too, slid into sleep.

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