Read Date Night for Free Online

mahogany posts rose from its corners.
    “It’s like an upper world four-poster!” Olivia exclaimed, aware Anso
    sometimes worried she’d get homesick for her old life. “They’re even topped by pineapples!”
    “It’s a compromise,” Anso said. “I always think I’m going to fall off
    drylander beds.”
    Olivia hugged him and he hugged back. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
    “You’re welcome,” Anso mumbled into her hair. “Especially since the post thing was my idea.”
    “James likes sleeping at floor level.”
    “And you?”
    She pushed back and smiled at him. “I like sleeping anywhere you are.”
    He stroked a disheveled red lock behind her ear, her hair pins lost who knew where. His eyes grew more serious.
    “I want you to lie down for me,” he said.
    This was how he mastered his partners: with quiet intensity. He had storms in him, but it took the throes of passion to bring them out.
    “As you wish,” she said to him.
    With a flourish she probably couldn’t have pulled off before she became part-were, she stepped onto the center of the covers, gripped his hand more securely, and borrowed his strength to lower herself full length onto her back. He liked her trick, his smile stretching broader as he stood over her.
    Anso wasn’t the biggest talker of her husbands. He said quite a lot wordlessly by undoing his damp trousers and pushing them down his legs. His full blown erection bounced as he kicked the pants away.
    “Is that for me?” she asked coyly.
    “Eventually.”
    “Eventually!” Laughing, she came up on her elbows.
    “Stay,” he ordered. “You can have this if you behave yourself.”
    He was in a mood, all right. Enjoying it, Olivia relaxed back among the
    pillows, her neck propped up on a silk bolster. Seeing she was compliant, Anso retrieved a pretty soup bowl sized jar from a low Moroccan table. When he unscrewed the silver lid, a sugary vanilla scent wafted out. Anso scooped a dollop of the creamy contents onto his palm.
    “Do I need moisturizing?” she asked.
    “This is for massages. By the time I’m through, you’re going to be too relaxed to spell ‘state dinner.’”
    That was a nice promise. “Should I turn over?”

    He shook his head. “I want stroke your front. I want to watch every scrap of pleasure ripple across your face.”
    “I’ll be able to watch you too.”
    “Yes, you will,” he agreed.
    Just as obviously aroused as he was amused, his eyes twinkled and glowed simultaneously. He dropped to his knees at her feet, the bed big enough to hold them both this way. The lights that shone through the scarlet curtain cast a rosy glow on his hard physique.
    “Move your feet apart,” he said.
    She did, and he scooted closer, the intent manner with which he did this heightening her suspense. He’d given her backrubs, just as she’d given them to him, but being face to face was a new approach. He caught her right ankle in one oiled hand, placed it on his shoulder, then slid his second palm down the silky inner length of her lifted leg.
    Every nerve he passed tingled.
    They set off sparklers when he stroked her the other way.
    She bit her lip, a moan she couldn’t contain breaking in her throat. Her pussy was welling up, as if she hadn’t just stepped out of a steaming pool after having vigorous sex. Clearly, her sex drive wasn’t designed for playing hard to get.
    Her moan increased a decibel or ten when he dug his thumb into the arch of her foot. She hadn’t known those nerves connected straight to her clit. Each time he exerted pressure on one spot, that part of her jumped like it had a tic.
    Anso laughed at her reaction. “You’re making this too easy.”
    “That’s not ... really a complaint, is it?”
    She might have been easy, but he wasn’t rushing her. His smile didn’t
    disappear, just grew more subtle and salacious. Both her legs were kneaded and stroked, then her arms, and then he did unbelievably soothing things to the back and sides of