Husbandry (5 page)

Another of Chad’s great qualities was the way he paid
attention to everything I said. We ordered dinner, and he continued to hold my
hand. He listened as I described my workday, interrupting only to feed me
choice bites of food. This time I included tidbits of personal news about my
coworkers and their families—people he recognized by name from previous
conversations. Then I described my afternoon with Chuck, though I left out the
details of our time in the bedroom. I was still a little worried about him.
Chuck wanted to be a father so badly, and I knew he’d make a great one.

Chad returned a slow, understanding smile. “‘From fairest
creatures we desire increase.’”

“What’s that?”

He laughed. “Shakespeare, my love. You know how I enjoy the
sonnets. Chuck is looking for an heir to ‘bear his memory.’ He’s probably
hoping to have children who inherit their mother’s beauty and grace; ‘When your
sweet issue your sweet form should bear.’”

I could tell by my warm cheeks I was blushing again. “Now
you’re just trying to flatter me.”

“You think I’m insincere?” He clutched his chest as if I’d
wounded him.

“No.” I gave him an honest answer. “I almost wish you were.
At least then I’d have a fighting chance against you. As it is, you’re
irresistible.”

“I like being irresistible to you.” Chad leaned forward so
the glow of the flame outlined his handsome features. He reached out with his
free hand to trace my cheek in a slow, reverent caress that made me sigh. “‘I
love thee to the level of everyday’s / Most quiet need, by sun and
candlelight.’”

I leaned into his touch. “More Shakespeare?”

“Elizabeth Barrett Browning.” He ran his thumb across my
bottom lip. “From ‘How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.’”

I was lost. He was a master of seduction, and I was putty in
his hands. A trickle of moisture spilled between my thighs, wetting my panties
when they’d only just dried after my escapade with Charles.

Doing my best to match his flirtation, I angled my shoulders
enough to flash a bit more cleavage. “Poetry is nice, but why don’t you say
something original? Tell me a secret.”

“A secret?” His eyes twinkled, owing nothing to the
candlelight. He always got excited when I engaged him like this. “How about a
secret and a surprise?”

“Mmm. I like the sound of that. Will you whisper them to
me?”

He feathered his fingers over my hand where he held it on
top of the table. “I’ll only whisper the secret, my darling. You’ll have to
wait for your surprise.”

Without a bra, I felt my nipples rasp against the fabric of
my dress. This game was fun, though the hunger it inspired was intense.

I deliberately licked my lips. “What if I tease it out of
you?”

He leaned farther forward. “You can try, but I wouldn’t
recommend it. This surprise is for your pleasure.”

If we huddled any closer together, we’d be burned by the
flame. My lips remained parted. I was breathing more heavily now, caught in a
cloud of sexual tension that turned the air thick and humid.

“Keep your surprise, then, but spill your secret.”

“Anything for a beautiful woman.” He lowered his voice. “The
secret is I plan to take you home and make love to you all night long.”

Oh God. If I creamed any harder, I’d leave a puddle on the
chair. Still, he held me with his gaze.

“That’s hardly a secret.” I responded to him in a sultry
tone that would have done a phone-sex operator proud. “I’m your wife. That
pretty much makes me a sure thing.”

“A sure thing requires no effort,” he retorted. “You’re
worth a great deal of effort and should never be taken for granted.”

Was it any wonder I loved him? His words inspired a feeling
so much more powerful than lust—a passion and devotion that further fueled my
attraction to him.

No more words were exchanged as he paid the bill, though our
body language spoke volumes. I nearly shook with anticipation as he came around
to help me out of my chair and lead me to the car. He drove, which was just as
well since I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. Tension mounted the whole drive
home.

The house was quiet when we walked through the door, though
Chuck had clearly left the front light on for us. Chad led me upstairs to the
closed door of the master suite.

“Close your eyes.” He pressed kisses to my eyelashes to make
me comply.

I stepped into the room with nothing but the warm press of
his arm around my waist to guide me. Then he disappeared for a moment, and a slow,
sexy blues song filled the room. His arm returned, this time embracing me from
behind and cradling me against his chest.

“All right. Now open them.”

My breath escaped me on a sigh when I did. The room had been
completely transformed. Pearly satin sheets now covered the big bed, which was
already turned down. Candles of different heights glowed around the room. When
I inhaled, the lulling aroma of sandalwood washed through me.

“How did you do this?” Romantic cliché or not, the setting
was perfect.

I felt Chad shrug behind me. “I know a guy.”

“You do, huh?”

He swept my hair aside to plant a kiss on the sensitive
curve of my neck. The caress felt so good I tilted my head to give him better
access and moaned when I felt him lower the zipper at the back of my dress.

“Yes, I do,” he whispered against my skin. “And right now,
that guy is busy watching a boxing match. He’ll be occupied for hours.”

I’d wondered where Chuck was. Chad had obviously thought of
everything.

The kisses he planted down my neck and across my shoulder
distracted me. I didn’t notice he’d pushed aside the straps of my dress until
the garment suddenly dropped and left my breasts bare for his hands to clasp.

Chad moaned behind me. “I love your body. Your skin is
softer than the finest silk. Your firm, ripe breasts fill my palms to
perfection.”

I’d always thought I was a little lacking in that area, but
his praise—and the passion-rich tone in which he delivered it—made me feel like
a well-endowed siren.

“And the curve of your waist.” He slipped his right hand
from my breast and stroked my side all the way down to my hip. “Like the dip of
the shoreline where she meets the touch of her lover, the ocean.”

“Yes.” The word escaped me without thought.

If anyone else, even one of my other husbands, had spoken
like this, I probably would have found it cheesy. But Chad was too real, too
genuine for that. Though aimed to seduce, his words weren’t just a gimmick. He
was a true romantic.

So I embraced the dream and responded the way I wanted to.
“Take me to bed.”

He pressed his lips to my ear. “With pleasure.”

The way he scooped me up in his arms startled a laugh out of
me. Beneath his shirt, those muscles he worked so hard to hone barely flexed as
he took my weight and carried me to the bed. He laid me down in the center of
those satin sheets, and I sighed as the smooth fabric brushed my bare shoulders
and the backs of my legs.

Still fully dressed, he stretched out beside me. “
Embrasse-moi
.”

I did kiss him—a French kiss, no less. Lightly fisting his
curls, I brought his head down to mine and devoured him. I dipped my tongue
into his mouth and drank the intoxicating flavor of one of my favorite wines
and the virile man behind it. His skillful lips softened beneath the pressure
before giving back tenfold, taking me on a floating descent into pure desire.

There was no rush; time had no meaning. We stretched that
perfect kiss into forever before the yearning for more had us surfacing for
air.

His smile was so full of carnal promise it set off a tiny
spasm high between my legs. I couldn’t wait for him to fill me.

When he sat up, I reached for him, but I dropped my arms
once I saw what he was doing. He unbuttoned his shirt without looking away from
me and shrugged it off. Beneath the fabric, his chest was all smooth skin, the
hair waxed off so as not to obstruct the view. His belt, shoes, and socks
immediately followed. To my frustration, he kept his pants on.

Chad crawled to the foot of the bed and lifted my right
foot, which reminded me I still wore my high heels. The candlelight bathed us
both in a golden glow. It deepened the shadows and highlighted his features so
the muscles of his chest looked like they’d been chiseled there. He was the
most stunning man I’d ever seen.

“Relax, my love.” He pulled my shoe free with a flourish
that reminded me of an unveiling.

I had a flashback to what Charles had said about putting my
body on exhibit. Had anyone seen me through his office window this afternoon?

“You spend too much time on your poor feet.” Chad reclaimed
my attention in an instant. “They must be sore.”

They were certainly sensitive. I moaned and shifted my
weight the instant he dug his thumbs into my arch. Before I’d married him, I’d
never thought of my feet as an erogenous zone, but he could do things to my
sole that nearly had me coming. When he slipped one finger between my toes, I
swore I felt a phantom digit slide into my pussy. Then he braced my foot
against his bare shoulder and massaged his hands up my calf and thigh.

“Such long legs.” His voice was even deeper now. “I want to
work out any twinges and make you nice and limber.”

Thanks to my other two husbands, my thigh muscles were a bit
achy, but Chad banished the pain within minutes. About the time I melted into
the mattress, he moved to my other leg and started the whole process over
again.

I was loose and relaxed, aroused and beyond desperate. The
need he inspired in me had me ready to scream. When he set my feet down and
slid both hands up the outsides of my thighs, I let out a tiny mewl of
anticipation.

Instead of bringing his body all the way over me, he stopped
with his lips below my navel. His hungry gaze flicked up to meet mine as he
lowered his head and grabbed the waistband of my panties with his teeth. I was captivated
by the sight, unable to turn away when he slid back down my legs. His hands
stroked me from hips to ankles as he went, and his teeth never released my
underwear. Using nothing but his mouth, he pulled my panties all the way off my
toes.

He waited a beat before he let them drop. “Are you already
wet for me?”

Chad swept his hand back up to test my folds. He kept his
touch gentle, barely grazing my damp curls with his fingertips.

I squirmed and watched a blush spread over my chest.

“Now I’m the one who’s flattered. ‘But better still, our
couple’s chief delight, / Was mutual love and pleasure to excite.’”

My mind wasn’t working well enough to ask whom he was
quoting, but the question must have flashed across my face.

“‘The Magic Cup’ by Jean de La Fontaine. A Frenchman.
Tu me fascines, Fila
. You’ll never know
the passion you excite in me. I want to drink from your magic cup now.”

I had only a split second to grasp the innuendo before he
threw my legs over his shoulders. He spread my labia with his thumbs and dived
forward to press that wonderful mouth of his to the part of me that needed him
most. My back bowed off the satin sheets.

“Chad! Oh God.” I grasped the back of his head.

His onyx curls wrapped around my fingers and tickled my
thighs as he licked the juices from my opening. Then he puckered his lips over
my clit and sucked on it like it was the sweetest treat in the world. My belly
clutched, and waves of pleasure tumbled through my womb.

“Please. More.” I was reduced to one-word begging.

I pushed his head closer and ground my hips against his
marauding mouth. He redoubled his efforts, alternating between my clit and the
weeping opening of my vagina. Speed and pressure increased until I whined with
every heavy breath. He used his superior strength to pin my hips so I couldn’t
buck him off target.

A warning tremor ran up the walls of my channel—a precursor
to the orgasm poised to strike. Although his oral attentions were nothing short
of masterful, my climax remained out of reach. The tension still mounted in my
core until I was sure it would break me.

Just when I thought I’d die from the strain, Chad did
something special with his tongue. He gave my clit a slow, sinuous stroke
before spurring it into a rapid flutter. In the same moment, he shoved two
fingers into me and pressed up on the perfect spot.

I flew apart. My whole passage clenched and shuddered in
bliss, spilling more cream onto his invading fingers. He continued to deliver
languorous licks to my clit until the last aftershock of my orgasm faded. The
withdrawal of his fingers made me whimper.

“What a picture you make.” Chad stood and looked down at me
from the foot of the bed. “I wish I could paint you like this.”

I could only imagine how erotic such a portrait would look,
especially since I didn’t have the strength to close my legs.

Very deliberately, he slipped his fingers into his mouth and
sucked my juices from them. “
Deliziosa
.”

He looked pretty delicious himself, especially when he
dropped his pants. Chad often went commando, which cut back on the suspense.
His cock was as long and hard as I’d ever seen it, so darkly flushed it looked
ready to burst. Precum didn’t just well up at the tip; it spilled over the head
and glistened in the candlelight.

I sat up for a better look and watched his magnificent cock
bob as he climbed back on the bed. The turgid stalk stood proud and erect,
especially as he sat in the center of the mattress and held his arms open for
me. Eagerness propelled me forward so that my breasts hit his chest at the same
time my mouth reclaimed his. I spread my thighs wide to straddle his lap.

The stroke of his hands up and down my back both eased and
excited me. Then he broke the kiss and swept his palms below the flare of my
waist to clasp my bottom. He urged me up on my knees until my bosom was right
in front of his face.