cockstand seemed to grow. Poppy ached to take it in hand, stroke and squeeze, tease it to completion. She knew exactly how to do it, exactly how he liked to be worked. Her body swayed with wanting. She could practically feel that cock in her mouth, filling it up, and she licked her parched lips.
“Finish what you started, husband.”
He uncoiled like a snake, his hand catching her on the shoulder. One deft push and she was falling back onto the bed. She went willingly, anticipation thrumming through her veins and making her heart pound. He loomed over her, still so very angry, his body tense and his eyes flashing. But she could see the cracks forming around the façade, and it thrilled her.
“What do you want, Poppy?” His voice was sandpaper against steel. Satin rustled as he yanked her skirts up around her hips. Fabric tore, the shining pink billowing about her waist.
“Do you want this?” He cupped her, his hand hot and rough against her silk drawers. She almost groaned, but held it back. He would have to work for some things. A shiver went through her as two long fingers delved between the slit in her drawers and stroked through her wetness. “Do you want me here?”
He leaned in, not touching her with his body, only his hand and his tormenting fingers. Anger flashed in his eyes as he fondled her, not with finesse but with base intent. It made her white hot, and her thighs parted for him.
Win’s nostrils flared again as he looked down at what she offered. “Pink and red,” he murmured. “Enough to drive a man mad.”
She swallowed hard, and he glanced back at her. “Do you want me, Poppy?”
She held his gaze, willing herself not to plead, not to say a word, but his fingers suddenly plunged into her, and her body tensed. It was too good, too much. Her thighs quivered with the need to demand more, and harder, damn you.
Win’s eyes blazed, his mouth parting as he breathed. “Answer me.” His free hand went to the fall of his trousers. “It won’t change a thing. Getting me to fuck you won’t change a thing.”
Everything had already changed. She wanted to shout at him, rail with her fists, but she lay compliant and simply stared back, waiting, letting him finger her as he opened his trousers.
His cock bobbed free, pulsing and dark and enormously erect. Win’s cock. That her staid, serious husband had such a large and thick cock was a secret she took almost perverse pleasure in. Nobody had seen it but her. Only she knew what he hid beneath his unassuming suits and his elegant manners. Her breath left in a rush, anticipation drawing her so tight that she trembled.
Their gazes clashed, each waiting for the other to yield. His hips moved between her thighs, a brush of wool against silk drawers. The hot crown of his cock touched her, and she almost jumped.
“It won’t change a thing,” he said again, weaker yet insistent, almost as if he were willing it so.
Defiance surged through her, and she opened her legs wider. “Prove it.”
He grabbed her hips and thrust. Poppy’s entire body tensed, the invasion of his thick length almost painful, and so damn intense that she bit her lip to keep from crying out. And it wasn’t even all of him. She knew he had more to give. He pulled back and plunged again, delving further, rendering her incapable of speech. Heat swirled and spread from where he plundered. He moved automatically, as if he was determined not to feel, only take her.
The bed ropes squeaked in a steady rhythm. In. Out. Push. Pull. His hips slammed into hers, each thrust shoving her farther up the bedding, only his hands on her thighs keeping her in position. Harder. Make me feel it.
His eyes held hers as his cock moved, filling and emptying her. Oh God, but when he invaded, she could scarcely bear the pleasure of it. Inside she quaked, her body so very hot that she longed to rip free of her clothing, longed to rip his off as well and feel his skin upon hers. But she did not move, barely breathed, for fear of breaking the spell.
Win. How could she tell him how much she missed this? How much she’d yearned for him. Even now, when he tupped her like a dockside whore. Win. Feel me. His gaze bore into her, so cold, detached. Poppy melted against