“Would you prefer to rest while I prepare a large meal or would you like something light tonight and retire early?”

Kirkland looked at Caressa from the corner of his eye. “I believe something light will suffice for tonight.”

Caressa’s gasped but she squeezed his hand, conveying her agreement. She toyed with her bowl of chicken soup, chasing pieces of chicken and vegetables with her spoon. Kirkland ate quickly and voraciously, devouring three bowls in the time it took Caressa to finish her first and only.
Patting her lips dry with her napkin, Caressa hid her mouth when breaths grew short as Kirkland scraped his chair back from the table. His hand appeared before her. “Time to retire, Caressa.”

Her hand shook as she laid the stiff linen beside her empty bowl. Setting her trembling fingers in her husband’s palm, Caressa allowed Kirkland to pull her to her feet and guide her to a room with a low, wide bed, a roaring fire, a dressing screen and no other furniture.

The maid stood beside the dressing screen and the valet was across the room. Caressa and Kirkland parted, allowing the servants to undress them before leaving the room. Stepping out from behind the screen, Caressa smoothed the lovely rose lace shift over her belly. She looked up to find Kirkland, naked, staring at her, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Kirkland matched her moves as she placed first one then the other knee on the feather mattress. Her shift clutched in her fists, she crawled forward to meet Kirkland in the center of the bed. He reached up and cradled her head in his hands. Kirkland’s tongue flicked out and teased her lips.

His fingers traced down her cheeks, the sides of her neck, to rest on her shoulders. He peeled the thin shift from her shoulders, pushed it gently down her arms. His warm, dry palms slid over her breasts, lightly abrading her nipples and eliciting a whimper from Caressa.

The thin cotton of her chemise floated down her waist, past her hips, and pooled at her knees. Kirkland’s hands slowly followed it descent. His fingertips grazing the ticklish flesh of her ribs and belly caused Caressa to gasp, swallowing a laugh. When he reached her hips, one hand slid to her front, the other to her back.

Caressa bit Kirkland’s lower lip. Her hands grasped Kirkland’s shoulders, her nails digging in to the hard flesh. She needed to hold tightly to something, anything. The large hand at her back slid down to cup one globe of her rear. His other hand petted the hair at the apex of her thighs.

Kirkland’s fingers spent what felt like hours just stroking the hair covering her wet mound. Caressa whimpered, begging without words. Kirkland tugged on the crisp hair, causing her to cry out, finally finding her voice. “Please! Touch me, please, ‘Land, please!”

She felt her husband smile against her chin. “Of course, Caressa.”