Libby made a surprised noise.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes. It feels…Bare. Super-sensitive. Put your mouth on me. All over me. God. Everywhere. Like you promised.”
“I ain’t lettin’ you outta my bed until mornin’. We clear on that?”
“Uh-huh.”
He helped her to her feet and they shuffled to the single bed inset into the wall. “Step up.”
She stretched out flat on her back. Quinn ditched his clothes and turned off the lights before climbing in.
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 pussy lips. He burrowed his tongue inside that hot, clenching channel then retreated to lick every hairless inch of her pussy. 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 fuck 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 cock slidin’ into your ass.”
Libby just moaned.
“Right now I’m gonna fuck 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 fucked 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 fucked 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 breasts. “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.
Quinn said, “Nope, Ben’s takin’ care of it this weekend. Because Libby and me are spendin’ time together. What’s that? I didn’t tell you because it ain’t your concern.” He sighed. “Sorry.”
Ooh, pissing off Mama McKay? That was a first. Libby heard the woman’s rapid fire reprimand on the other end of the phone from five feet away.
“I don’t know. We’re workin’ on it.” Pause. “I don’t give a damn what Vaudette Dickens told you. It ain’t none of her concern neither.”
Good Lord. Vaudette had been a busy bee; it was only nine-thirty in the morning.
“Ma. Ma! Look, I know you think you mean well… Butt out. This is between me and my wife.”
Pause. The floorboards squeaked as Quinn paced. “Jesus. Please tell me you didn’t take it upon yourself to ask her that.” Pause. “Because it ain’t none of your goddamn business. I don’t care if it’s the Lord’s Day; you had no right. No right.” Pause. “Fine. Put him on the damn phone.”
Libby’s stomach cartwheeled. She’d never heard Quinn speak to his mother so harshly. Never. She crawled out of bed and laid her cheek between his shoulder blades, wrapping her arms around him. His body shook, not from cold but with fury.
“Dad? No, you listen. I don’t give a good goddamn if she claims she meant no harm.” Pause. “Huh-uh. This is your first and only warning. Back off. Both of you.” Quinn clicked the phone shut and threw it on the floor.
His breathing was rapid and shallow. His body both hot and cold. He didn’t say anything or move to dislodge her arms, so Libby clutched him tightly, hoping it might calm him down.
“I didn’t know. I swear to God, I didn’t know. What kinda husband does that make me? Dammit, how could I not have seen it?”
Libby stepped back. “What was that phone call about?”
“My mother chewed me out for not bein’ in church. She demanded to know why Vaudette Dickens found out we were back together and why I hadn’t bothered to tell her first. She expected me to deny the rumor we were acting ‘obscene’ in public last night. Then she asked if we were done bein’ separated and when she could expect grandkids, ’cause she’d been waitin’ a long time and she was tired of nagging you about quittin’ your job and us startin’ a family.”
He spun around. His eyes were black with rage and his lips were drawn into a thin white line. “I didn’t know she’d been hounding you about grandkids because she ain’t said a single word to me. Not one word. Ever.” His eyes frantically searched hers. “She makes a big deal about it to you, doesn’t she?”
Libby nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
