He let her explore the growing sense of boldness, and then finally pulled away. “Well done, love. You're learning so fast. And now, let me turn my attention to these pretty little breasts of yours. They look… lonely. See how they
reach for me? Do they want to be touched, Kat?”
“Please.” Her back arched in eager anticipation.
He cupped one in each hand and lowered his face, pressing his lips to the silky skin between. Her breath caught as he slid his mouth over the dainty globe,
wetting it in a burning line. He snaked out his tongue and teased the nipple.
“Ooooh,” she breathed, “how nice.”
“And this?” He sucked the sensitive peak into his mouth.
She had no words, but really, she didn't need them. Her soft sigh told him what he needed to know. He tugged and licked and teased her, and she responded
eagerly, clutching the back of his head and pressing him closer. This touch had
the intensity she had missed in the bath. A partner made all the difference.
Christopher makes it different. She was not alone anymore. She was part of a family, a real family.
“That feels nice,” she murmured.
“Good.” His voice rumbled against her breast, “I want you to feel
wonderful.”
His hand shaped and gently squeezed the other side. Finally, he released the
wet, straining nub and turned to the other.
She sighed again as he pleasured her. Each tug on her breast created an answering sizzle low in her belly. Arousal grew, bringing wetness that signaled
her readiness for her husband.
Her hands left his hair and stroked down his back, feeling the bunched
muscles under the smooth skin. He's a beautiful man, and astonishingly, he's mine. This tender lovemaking would be available for her to enjoy for the rest of her life. Perfect.
Suddenly he shifted. Leaving her nipples bereft, he trailed his lips over her belly, kissing the partially healed bruises and teasing her navel before moving lower still, his hands parting her thighs.
What mischief is he up to now? “Christopher?”
“Trust me, love,” he replied. “I want to make you feel good.”
“Like this?”
Their eyes met across the plain of her belly, and she noticed the hungry gleam in his silver gaze. “Yes. I can't wait to taste you. Open.”
She tensed, then made herself relax. His touches so far have been good. He
wouldn't ask me to do anything wrong or bad. Trust is a choice, isn't it? She closed her eyes as his fingers opened her, baring her intimate parts to his gaze.
“You're very wet, love,” he told her gravely.
His serious expression caused dread to flare in her belly, but she found the strength to speak instead of freezing. “You said that was good,” she reminded him, fighting down panic.
Christopher dropped his teasing air. “It is,” he reassured her. “Kat, do you…
like… to be made love to?”
“I do. Am I a bad girl?” she asked, her voice hesitant as fear threatened to overwhelm her. She suddenly wanted not to be lying naked and vulnerable
before this man, but to hide in the wardrobe.
“No. You're a good wife,” he replied firmly.
And then he lowered his lips, stopping her voice. He made love to her with
his mouth, kissing and licking her in that tender spot he had caressed earlier, and
it felt even sweeter than she remembered. Gradually, fear gave way to pleasure,
to trust. She recalled, at last, why she'd put faith in him to begin with. It wasn't desperation, it was instinct deeper than fear. Christopher will never harm me.
Knowing again that she was safe, Katerina forced herself to relax and let him
