She didn't even care. "I want your mouth on me, Jonathan. Now. Please."
He bit the tip of her nipple in response, and she nearly came off the bed at the sweet shock of pleasure mixed with the hint of pain. "Patience. I'm still unwrapping my present."
"Unwrap faster," she told him, raising her h*ps wantonly. "I need you."
"We have all the time in the world, love." His tongue licked slowly at her nipple, soothing away the small bite he'd given it.
"But I ache for you," she told him in a low, pleading voice. "I've been dreaming about you, you know. Every night."
He groaned and buried his face against her gently rounded stomach, giving her skirt another tug. "Have you?"
"I have."
"I was a little afraid I was the only one still madly obsessed once you left me. I kept thinking that you just wouldn't care."
"That's not true," she said in a soft voice, sucking in when his tongue dipped against her belly button. She'd had no idea she was ticklish there, but his tongue was making her want to squirm and writhe with every licking caress. "I dreamed of you every night."
"Dirty dreams?"
"Very dirty," she told him. "Erotic, sweaty, blissful dreams."
"Mmm, tell me more."
She didn't remember much of them. All she knew was that she had his face in her mind, his body pressed against hers, and when she woke up, her panties were wet and she was aching with unfulfilled need. "They're never as good as the real you, but I woke up every day and ached for you."
His fingers slid under her skirt, still hitched around her hips, and cupped her mound through the silk of her panties. "Did you ache here?"
She moaned. "Yes."
One finger pushed against her slit, dragging against it through the now-wet fabric. "Is all this wetness for me?"
Violet spread her legs wider, encouraging him. "Oh, Jonathan, that feels so good."
"How good?" He continued to rub, pushing down against her flesh like she was a sculpture he was molding under his fingers.
"D-decadent," she panted, making a mewing sound every time his fingertips dragged over her clit.
"Mmm, I like that word. I do think decadent makes me think of sweet, delicious things. And are you sweet and delicious, Violet?"
"Why not taste me and find out?" she asked breathlessly, raising a knee until she was sprawled wide open against him, her open legs beckoning.
"Oh, I will. I'm just saving my dessert for a little while longer." His hand lifted from between her legs and he raised it to his mouth, licking his fingers. She watched as his eyes closed in delight. "God, you taste good."
"Still savoring?" Her h*ps rolled uselessly against the sheets at the hot look in his eyes. "Or is that just an excuse because you can't get my skirt off?"
He threw back his head and laughed. "I admit nothing."
Violet grinned and slid her hand to her skirt, working it down her h*ps with a bit of creative wiggling. Why, oh why, had she chosen to wear such a tight, inflexible fabric this morning? Sure it looked good on, but it was hell to take off. When she had the skirt down to her knees, though, he grabbed the material and hauled it off her legs, flinging it to the ground. She was left in nothing but her silky pink panties, the crotch damp from excitement, and he gazed down at her, studying her. Automatically she parted her knees and presented herself to him, waiting for more.
To her surprise, he put his palm on her stomach, just below her belly button, and gave her a thoughtful look. "Have you . . . thought about the future much?"
She sucked in a breath, suddenly flattened. "You mean, a baby?"
He nodded, his hand caressing her skin.
Oh, wow. Blinking back sudden tears, Violet forced a small shrug to her shoulders. "Earlier I did, of course. Now . . . I don't know."
"I think I'd like to see you carrying my child," he said in a soft voice, and leaned down to kiss her stomach again. "Maybe not right away. We still need time for us. But maybe in a few years."
Violet nodded, overcome. "I'd love that," she said, aching. It wouldn't replace the baby she'd lost-that unnamed child would always hold a special place in her heart-but they could start a family. Start fresh. Try again.
She loved the thought of that. Her hand went to his hair and she brushed it off his forehead with a loving touch. "Maybe we skip the condoms tonight, then."
Jonathan looked up at her in surprise. "Are you still on the pill?"
"I am. One step at a time. No baby yet, but . . . I want to feel all of you inside me." She wanted that bond that having his flesh against hers would bring them. The intimacy of knowing that nothing separated them from each other, that they'd made this commitment to each other's bodies.