A Kiss For Midwinter

Page 33

“What do I need?”

“Increased blood flow,” he responded smoothly.

Lydia leaned over and kissed him. “Increased blood flow is my favorite,” she informed him, and then proceeded to show him precisely how much she favored proper circulation. Somewhere, in the middle of a long, lingering kiss, he took off her night rail, and she divested him of the remainder of his clothing.

The rest was a foregone conclusion—the warmth of his skin, the slick desire of her own female liquid, and the hard thrust of his body into hers, slow and steady, his hips claiming hers as he looked into her eyes. He was her husband of just a few days, but he already knew how to drive her to the edge of wildness and beyond.

When he’d finished, he kissed her again. “Did I ever tell you why I wanted to marry?” he asked.

“Because you couldn’t resist me.”

“Because I wanted a source of regular sexual intercourse, one that wouldn’t risk disease,” he responded.

Lydia leaned into his shoulder, smiling against his skin. “Oh, too bad,” she said in mock sympathy. “And instead, you got a wife who loves you.”

A smile spread across his face—a big, golden smile, one that had Lydia smiling in return. “There is no instead,” he said. “Only in addition. I got the woman I loved.”

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