The Warmest Winter✓

Thirty-three

The night falls and replaces the afternoon heat with refreshing cold. After a wonderful dinner on the terrace, I take a quick shower. Perhaps I'd have taken longer if my husband was with me in the bathtub. My cheeks heat up at the lewd thoughts whirling in my head. I already miss his touch given that he's been teasing my body the whole day.

I want more.

As I step out of the bathroom Liam is still on the couch with his laptop. He looks engrossed: his dusky brown hair a bit messy, and a frown of concentration resides between the pair of his thick eyebrows. Silently, I walk toward my suitcase and get my nightdress and lingerie.

Liam is on another phone call when I saunter back toward the bathroom. In front of a full-length mirror I take a deep breath, and a sly smile flits on my face afterwards. I start dressing up without a rush. A red lipstick follows a light smokey eye makeup.

Satisfied with my look after a minute of self appreciation, I tentatively grab my Versace perfume and sprinkle it on my body. Indulgently, my eyes shut at the smooth yet wild scent of lotus, fruits, musk, and wood flying in the air.

This is it! Let's unleash our wildness! My sex goddess awakes from the jetlag.

Liam's eyes light up when he sees me. Automatically he places his laptop aside, appreciating my presence. Yes! I feel accomplished, my moves ever coquettish as I walk nonchalantly toward the couch. I smile, letting him drink my sight from my head to my toe.

"Wow, Kira," he breathes, and slowly I lean over toward his face.

"I think it's time I have my husband to myself, Liam Darcy." Ignoring his anticipating look, I reach for the laptop and close it.

Liam doesn't stop me, even when I hold his hand to lead him back to our bed. He's obedient, and I'm more of a mistress tonight with everything I've planned for him. He's mine, and I'll show him just that—exactly as he constantly does to me.

"Strip," I mutter. He blinks, looking at me as if I've gone nuts. "Take your clothes off, Mr. Darcy," I clarify, and a soft wicked smirk becomes his immediate response.

But he does as I say. Slowly he pulls his T-shirt over his head, and I wet my lip at the view of his chest. Oh, I can never get enough of him. Eyes fixed on my provoking attire—a black, lacy nightie with matching thong and bralette, my thighs and cleavage well exposed—he tugs the lace of his joggers and slides them off.

He's panting as he mutters, "Done."

Oh, I love this.

I catch my breath, controlling my arousal and desire to touch myself at the mere sight of his body. He remained with white boxer briefs, tightly hugging his already hard erection. My breath hitches again, hormones racing alongside my beating heart. I stride over and grab the back of his neck with a sexy menace.

I kiss his lips harder, and his every muscle tense in response. He holds my waist fiercely, his breath impatient. God, I can't explain the fire we both ignite, our bodies molding with perfection. When I feel like I'm about to lose, I push him onto the bed. He grins as he props on his elbows, eyes intrigued. I slowly climb on the bed, and he stares with excitement.

"What is this, Kira? Fuck, what are you doing to me?" he mutters when I straddle him. "Damn, you look resplendent, baby. So sexy."

I flip my thick curls, no word spoken. Gently, I pull the frontal laces of my nighties and free its soft bra cups. Liam's eyes blaze when my breasts come out naked. He looks enticed, and I love the things I do to him. He makes me a diva.

Granting his heartfelt wish, I start kissing him everywhere without rushing. His body flexes each time, swimming in pleasure. I don't stop even when he tries to hold me, to take back his natural control, and my mouth around his solid length disarms him completely.