Daphne tried to stifle a moan as she felt his lips tickle the sensitive skin on her neck, pressing kisses over every inch of her exposed skin.
"Please… Atticus…please…" Daphne didn't know what she was pleading for. For Atticus to stop, or for him to continue?
Her body made the decision for her. Her hands instinctively wrapped around Atticus's broad shoulders to pull him closer, her head tilting to give him better access.
"Sunshine… you're killing me…" Atticus groaned out, his eyes hazy with lust as he saw the exquisite picture his wife was painting beneath him.
Her fingers were slim, but they felt like hot irons even through his tunic, his back forever branded by her touch. Rational thought had all but left his mind, and he leaned back down to kiss her lips, already swollen from his earlier kiss.
