After giving her a quick peck on the mouth, he kissed straight down her torso. Quinn used the tip of his tongue to trace her silky smooth pu**y lips. He burrowed his tongue inside that hot, clenching channel then retreated to lick every hairless inch of her pu**y. Damn. He could stay there for hours, coaxing the sticky sweetness from her body and gorging himself on her juices. On just her. His lover. His best friend.
His wife. His everything. Not a stranger, his Libby.
“That feels so… Oh, don’t stop.”
He used his thumbs to hold her open as he focused on her clit. His tongue strokes were fast, relentless and accurate.
She gasped, “Yes!” and held his head in place as she orgasmed against his mouth, making those sexy little squeaking moans that ratcheted his lust to a whole new level.
Soon as Libby settled down, he growled, “Again. Come for me like that again.”
“I can’t.”
“Wrong. And this time, you’re gonna scream.”
A sense of sexual power consumed Quinn, as she did just that.
As Libby was coming down from another climax, he untied the blindfold and flipped her on her belly.
“My turn. Get up on your hands and knees.”
Quinn followed the arc of her spine with his tongue from her nape to her tailbone. He parted those sweet cheeks and kept going down the downy crack of her ass. His wandering tongue met the bud of her anus and he painted it with wet swirls.
“Oh. My. God.” Her whole body shook.
He’d never done that before, but damn if she didn’t like it. So he did it again. He ventured past merely licking the sweet rosette and wiggled his tongue inside the pucker.
Goddamn, he wanted in there, the one place she’d balked at allowing him access. No more. He’d marked her everywhere else; he’d mark her there too. He’d f**k that virgin channel with his fingers, his tongue and his cock.
Keeping his finger pressed to that tight hole, Quinn warned, “I’m gonna take you here, darlin’ wife.
Not tonight, but soon. You want that, don’t you. Wanna experience my c**k slidin’ into your ass.”
Libby just moaned.
“Right now I’m gonna f**k you like this.” He yanked her hips back and impaled her.
Jesus. She was so wet and hot and making such sexy sounds, greedily pushing her body back into his.
He gritted his teeth and attempted some semblance of control.
“Quinn, don’t you dare hold back. You’re not gonna break me. More. Harder.”
Her plea cut his last thread of restraint. Quinn f**ked her without pause. Fucked her through another orgasm. Fucked her hard enough that she’d have bruises on her backside from the grip he maintained to keep her from skidding across the sheets. The sheer force of his thrusts set his knees on fire.
And he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.
Sweating, shaking, Quinn was helpless in the haze of passion, indebted to the woman who gave herself over to him so freely, the woman who still had the power—and the desire—to rock his world.
When Libby looked at him over her shoulder and said, “Baby, let go,” he did, saying her name as a benediction as he came until his balls were empty.
She collapsed face-first on the bed, dislodging his cock.
Quinn’s dizziness subsided after he braced his hand on the wall and took several deep breaths. He lowered himself next to her.
Libby turned her head and blinked at him.
No smile. No flip remark. Maybe he had been too rough with her. He smoothed his hand down her damp, naked back. “What?”
“I can’t be what you need if you don’t let me see all sides of you.”
“Libby—”
“You know what scares me?”
Being married to a man who f**ked you until your elbows and knees were raw with sheet burns?
“What?”
“That after this weekend we’ll revert to the way it was between us before.”
“It won’t—I won’t. We won’t. But havin’ wild sex a coupla times a day ain’t gonna be the norm for us either.”
“I know.” Her eyes searched his. “Do you think we’ve accomplished anything besides proving that sex between us can be fantastic?”
“We’ve talked more in the last twenty-four hours than we have in the last twenty-four months. Is every little thing ironed out? No. But I reckon there’s lots of stuff we ain’t gonna see eye-to-eye on, even if we talk about it for the next fifty years. As long as we have open discussions, no accusations, no holdin’
back, no ignorin’ the problem, then I think we’ll be okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Better than okay. We’re gonna be better than we’ve ever been. And that’s a promise.” Quinn wrapped her in his arms and kissed her forehead. “You plum wore me out today. Let’s get some sleep.
We’ll talk more in the mornin’.”
Chapter Eight
Libby tried to roll over but a warm, dry hand on her stomach held her in place.
“Whoa, darlin’. Ain’t a lotta room on a twin bed to be thrashin’ around. I gotta say, I much prefer it crowded with you.”
“So last night and yesterday wasn’t a dream? I won’t open my eyes and wake up in my queen-sized bed alone?”
“Not a dream.” Quinn’s lips brushed her ear. “I’m hopin’ to make yesterday’s events a new reality in our queen-sized bed.”
“Mmm.” She stretched, loving the feel of his legs tangled with hers and their bodies pressed together.
“Does my ‘night with a stranger’ fantasy include breakfast?”
“Sure, if you don’t mind blueberry Pop-Tarts, ’cause that’s about all I’ve got.”
“Yuck.”
“After we shower and get dressed up at the house, I could cook us up eggs and toast. I think there’s deer sausage left in the deep freeze.”
“Are you offering to wash my back?”
“And your front.” Quinn’s hands slid up to cup her br**sts. “And every place in between.”
He started biting her neck and she squealed, so they only heard the last couple rings of his cell phone.
“Thought I left that damn thing in the truck,” Quinn muttered. He climbed over Libby and snatched the phone from the tiny table where it’d started ringing again.
“Hello? Hey, Ma. Nah. Because I didn’t feel like goin’ to church, that’s why.”
Libby withheld a groan. As much as she liked Quinn’s mother, Violet McKay had a tendency to forget Quinn wasn’t a teenager but a grown man. Since she and Quinn had been together since their teen years, she treated Libby the same way.