Pride and Pleasure

“You have a lascivious mind.”

“I do,” he purred. “But my claim is bolstered by the indefinable magic of the tropics that stirs a man’s blood.”

“Ah.” She nodded sagely. “Now your true intentions are revealed.”

He leaned back into the squab and watched her with slumberous eyes. “Didn’t I tell you the first day we met that seduction was my method of choice with you?”

“Yes. I’d forgotten.” She hadn’t, but in the weeks since they wed, she learned that teasing him led to delicious results.

“Shall I remind you?”

She licked her lower lip. “You are welcome to make the attempt.”

He moved quickly, grabbing her by the waist and dragging her over him. “Wifely satisfaction is a point of pride with me, Mrs. Bond.”

“I fear you may be too handsome for the task.”

“Oh?” Jasper grabbed fistfuls of her skirts. “Considering the shortness of the distance to the docks, that’s likely a boon.”

“In addition,” she went on, her voice growing husky, “it’s impossible to disguise the air about you which distinguishes you.”

“Pray tell me what that is.” He reached into the opening of her pantalettes and parted the lips of her sex. He found her slick and hot for him.

“You are a predator. A dangerous man.”

“Dangerously aroused,” he agreed. “And madly in love.”

She reached for the placket of his breeches and pressed her lips to his. “And mine.”

“Always.”