“All right there, love?” he hummed, even as he lifted her leg to wrap around his hip. “You’re not too sore, are you?”
“Mmm, no.” She expelled a breath as he slid in and out of her, gently this time, as though he were savoring each slow, careful thrust.
“You feel so good, Tessa,” he groaned. “God, I’ve never felt this much before, felt like I could keep fucking you for hours. It’s perfect, you’re perfect.”
He grasped her chin and tipped her head back just far enough so he could kiss her long and hot, his tongue sweeping lazily through her mouth until she was mindless with the pleasure.
Her climax this time was as gentle and tender as his lovemaking had been, but no less satisfying. Ian held her within his arms for a long time after he came, until they were almost falling asleep.
After a leisurely shower, they dressed in comfy loungewear and picked up their discarded clothing from the hallway and stairs. Ian ordered in Chinese food for them, from a restaurant that was light years better than the greasy takeout places in her neighborhood. They ate in the kitchen, sharing a bottle of perfectly chilled Chardonnay, before settling in to watch a movie in the library.
Mrs. Sargent had stocked their favorite ice cream flavors for them – Ben & Jerry’s cookie dough for her, Haagen Daas chocolate peanut butter for him.
Ian grinned as Tessa licked ice cream off the back of her spoon. “Remind me to add whipped cream to next week’s shopping list. Maybe some chocolate or caramel syrup, too.”
Tessa wrinkled her nose. “The ice cream is rich enough for me. I’m not sure I want to spoil the taste with that other stuff.”
He leaned over and licked a dab of ice cream off the corner of her mouth. “Ah, but it isn’t for the ice cream, love,” he teased. He trailed a finger around one of her breasts. “I think this would taste even more delicious with some syrup drizzled on it.” His hand drifted over her belly to cup the juncture of her thighs. “And I could get very inventive with a can of whipped cream.”
Her head fell back against the sofa, her spoon clattering to the floor as he rubbed her clit through her yoga pants. “Sounds – ah, messy. We might – ooh – get the sheets sticky.”
His tongue traced over her lips, his mouth cool from the ice cream. “That’s the plan, darling.”
***
Tessa stared in some dismay at the amount of clothing, shoes, lingerie, and other accessories that had been strategically hung up and arranged around the oversized dressing room. She hadn’t realized that they had picked out quite so many items for her to try on while perusing the various racks earlier in the day.
She turned to face Ian, who’d taken a seat on the wide, padded bench that took up most of one wall of the room. “I can’t possibly need all of these clothes,” she told him firmly. “It will take me hours to try everything on.”
He raised a brow at her expectantly. “Well, then, you’d best get on with it, hadn’t you? I made dinner reservations for seven-thirty so there’s not much time to waste.”
Tessa frowned, glancing at the wall clock. “But it’s not even one-thirty, we have hours yet.”
Ian smiled meaningfully. “Ah, but I have other plans for you this afternoon as well. And you’ll likely need both a hot shower and a long nap afterwards.”
She felt her cheeks grow warm at his very pointed words. He’d made love to her again last night after carrying her upstairs to bed, but she’d been too sleepy and a bit on the sore side this morning for anything more than some cuddling. To her delight, the weather had been pleasant and sunny, and they’d been able to enjoy breakfast out on his secluded flagstone terrace. The gardens and backyard decks of his house were as beautifully designed as the interior, and Tessa was looking forward to exploring them in more detail with the approach of springtime in a few more weeks.
By mid-morning they’d arrived at Neiman Marcus, and meeting with Marlene who seemed very pleased to be helping them again. Tessa had struggled not to feel lost as Ian had taken her by the hand, examining an endless assortment of clothing for her to try on. Marlene had followed in their wake, tagging each item as they went along and taking copious notes besides.
Ian seemed to have an innate sense for the styles, colors and fabrics that suited her best, and she was more than happy to follow his suggestions. On the rare occasions that she didn’t like something he chose, he adhered to her wishes immediately. And if she spotted an item that caught her fancy, he instantly agreed with her choice. The one thing he strictly forbade her to do was even glance at a single price tag.