Mars dove in, firm and rough, found my nub instantly, and put delicious pressure on when he started to circle it.

Beautiful.

Oh gods.

I tore my mouth from his on a gasp and pressed into his fingers, swaying my hips frantically back and forth against his touch.

I heard his hoarse, “Ah, my Silence, yes. Ride that, mio ardente.”

“Mars.” I clutched his back, my nails scraping against the supple leather there. Unable to find purchase as it was tight to his skin, I desperately glided them up and clamped them on the back of his neck.

“Incantevole,” he purred.

And I caught fire.

“Mars!” I gasped, attempting to retreat from his fingers that were suddenly too much as the blaze overtook me, all I could see was orange and red and all I could feel was heat and beauty.

When the flames receded, my husband was kissing me tenderly as his fingers played gently in the wet folds between my legs.

He must have sensed he had me back from the place he took me for he sucked on my bottom lip a moment, let it go, cupped my sex and caught my slowly opening eyes.

His were liquid again and an enchanting mixture of aroused, replete and smug.

And that look on him was so marvelous, I even liked the smug.

“All better?” he asked.

“Mm-hmm,” I mumbled.

I saw his grin before I lost his hand.

He righted my skirts, slid off and rolled me to my side, then fitted himself to my back before pulling a warm hide over the both of us.

“Now, rest your eyes, my queen,” he murmured into the back of my hair as he pulled me deeper into his warmth. “When Farah comes to collect you, if you fall asleep, I’ll wake you. Yes?”

“Yes.”

He sounded simply smug when he declared, “I would keep you in a state of post-climax at all times, this daze I create is so endearing. Except I enjoy watching you come too much.” He paused as if considering before concluding, “And making you come even more.”

My eyelids were drifting, and I felt I should give a response, but I couldn’t catch a thought.

“And my point is proved, my wife is wanton,” he teased.

I caught a thought at that.

“Be quiet, Mars.”

I heard him chuckle as he pulled me even closer.

I was almost to sleep when he whispered, “I am glad to have you back, my beautiful Silence.”

I wasn’t back. We would never be back to the dream I’d been building about us before reality set in.

But I’d learned he could apologize.

And I had forgotten he was a good listener and did it most avidly any time I spoke.

So perhaps I was a step closer to being able to learn to live with the reality I had been dealt.

Thus, on this thought, I snuggled into his warmth.