Charlotte wasn’t paying any attention. Alex drew his white shirt over his head, the action emphasizing his muscled chest. His skin was a golden honey-brown. She trembled with longing. She would like to run her fingers over his muscles…. Alex noted her bemused expression with relief. He pulled off his boots, and finally hauled his knit pantaloons and drawers down to his ankles and stepped out of them. Charlotte’s eyes widened but she couldn’t stop looking.

Alex grinned. “He was wearing a white nightshirt, Charlotte!” She just stared at him. “Would you like me to pull on a nightshirt?”

Charlotte shook her head no, then yes.

“Too late!” her husband said cheerfully, sitting down on the bed. Charlotte’s stomach felt as if it were melting. He was just going to sit there, stark naked, with all the candles burning? She instinctively crossed her arms over her breasts. She would never sit around naked, in the light, no matter what he thought. She had conveniently forgotten all of Alex’s whispered stories about how he planned to make love to her in full sunshine.

Alex pretended not to notice the arms clamped over Charlotte’s breasts. He handed Charlotte her glass of champagne again, and she reluctantly unwrapped one arm in order to take it. Then he cleared his throat self-importantly.

“A vision too I had of old,
That thou a mortar were of gold;
Then could I but the pestle be,
How I would pound,
Oh! How I would pound my spice in thee!”

Charlotte was trying to cope with the feeling of melting, liquid fire that seemed to be invading every limb of her body. Was Alex going to “pound” into her? It even … it even sounded pleasant.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Alex took one look at Charlotte’s flushed cheeks and trembling lips and smoothly removed her glass again. His body came down on hers with crushing force, suddenly pressing Charlotte back onto the bed. She gasped but her hands came up to his neck rather than pushing him away. The sensation of his body intimately pressing into hers engrossed all her attention. Instinctively she arched her hips slightly and pressed against him.

Slowly! Alex thought. Slowly! He took Charlotte’s mouth, lingeringly kissing her in a tormenting, seductive rhythm that made her writhe under him. Her lungs felt as if they didn’t have enough air; her legs were trembling. Charlotte moaned, her breath coming in short pants. Still Alex prolonged the kiss, his hand abruptly descending onto her breast. His thumb rubbed Charlotte’s nipple through her silk gown and she arched against him again. She clutched his shoulders with her hands.