Page 94 of Throne of Fire

"Can't help it when you look at me like that." I shift again, earning another playful glare.

"Like what?" She arches an eyebrow, pretending innocence even as her eyes drift appreciatively over my body.

"Like you're mentally undressing me. Though I suppose that's redundant at this point." I gesture to my naked form, making her laugh.

"I'm looking at you with an artist's eye."

"You know, most wives would be satisfied with photos."

"Most wives don't have such husbands with a body like Adonis. Though you're making this difficult by being so distracting."

"Me? I'm being perfectly still. You're the one giving me bedroom eyes."

"These are artistic eyes!" She tries to maintain her professional demeanor.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart." I grin, loving it when I can fluster her. "Though I notice you're focusing an awful lot on certain areas." This time I do move, making my dick bob.

"Hush." She fights a smile. "You're ruining my concentration."

“Does my dick fit on the canvas? It’s pretty large.”

“It’s your head that’s too big.”

The playful banter flows easily between us now, so different from our tense early days.

She sits back and studies her work.

“Well?” I ask.

Hannah rises from her chair and comes over to me, climbing onto my lap, her soft curves pressing against me. "I think that's enough art for today."

My hands find her hips automatically. "What happened to capturing my essence?"

"I'd rather capture something else." She runs her fingers down my chest, and lower until her petit fingers reach for my dick.

I catch her hand, bringing it to my lips. "Careful, sweetheart. You're playing with fire."

“You want me to stop?” she asks.

“No. Not at all.” I quickly divest her of her clothes and then pull her over me again until she sinks over my dick. The sensation is beyond perfection. I’m surrounded by heat and love.

She grips my shoulders as she rides me. There are no words. We don’t need them as our gazes hold and our bodies move together. Power builds, coils tight as the friction heats up.

“Tell me when you’re coming,” I say, my voice rough with need.

“Ash…” She’s so fucking beautiful as she chases her pleasure. I wish I could draw her like this. Of the two of us, she’s the work of art.

“Fuck, baby… I’m nearly there.” My dick is throbbing. It’s all I can do to hold back, to wait for her.

“Ash! Yes… I’m coming.” Her pussy tightens around me, launching me with her into sublime pleasure.

She collapses against me, her arms around my neck as she rests her head on my shoulder. Several moments later, she asks, “Ash?”

“Yes?” I rub her back, hoping she’s not going to ask a hard question because my brain is still blown.

"What should we name the baby?"

"I was thinking of Patrick for a boy." I glance up to gauge her reaction. "After my father."