She leaned forward until her soft breasts were pressed against his chest. “Do you promise?” she asked, nipping at his lips until he wrapped his hand in her hair and plundered her mouth. She was so good, he had to plunder her a second time, and only the fact that she was squirming restlessly against his hardness kept him from spending long hours paying homage to the wonders of her mouth.

“I always keep my promises,” he murmured against her breast, just before his mouth closed over the delicate little morsel that beckoned him. He teased and nibbled the first nipple, her moans of pleasure filling his ears even as her fingers dug into the muscles of his shoulders. Then he turned his attention to the second breast, licking and suckling her until her breath was as wild as his. He untangled his fingers from her curls, enjoying her little shiver of delight as he stroked a path down her spine, sweeping his hand over her hip to tease the part of her he knew was aching for him.

“You’ll have to excuse my personal parts.” She gasped as he cupped her mound of Venus. “They’re a bit moist. They seem to do that quite a bit around you. I was worried about it at first, but then I remembered how you touched me there on our wedding night, and you seemed to find the moistness a desired state, so I stopped worrying. Unless you don’t like me being moist, and if you do, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to—”

“You are babbling, wife,” he said, groaning with delight as she sucked his tongue into her mouth. Flames of desire mingled with love, his need for her bound tightly to the joy that came with the knowledge that she was his, now, tonight, forever.

With one hand he lifted her as he slid forward into the chair, murmuring instructions in her ear as she reached between them to guide him into her silken depths, waves of pleasure rippling throughout his body as she sank slowly down upon him. A fierce sense of possession gripped him as he showed her how to move on him. She was his wife, his Charlotte, his brilliant, passionate goddess whose love healed him despite his desire to be left to die.

He had thought her the devil incarnate? Dare tore his lips from the soft curve of her throat and watched as she arched her back, her eyes wide with amazement as ecstasy claimed her, her song of rapture filling him, binding him to her until he couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. Her love swept over him in a wave of heat so strong, it burned her name from his tongue as he gave way before it, pouring his life into her.

Soft, meaningless words were pressed into his flesh with gentle kisses and sweet breath. She wasn’t a devil; she was an angel.

And he would never let her go.