I looked to him, grinned big then shoved a giganto spoonful of peanut butter and fluff into my mouth. My eyes closed slowly in abandoned rapture as I sucked the spoon clean. “Gods,” Frey muttered and I suddenly found myself without spoon or jar and on my back in our bed with my husband on me. “Frey, I wasn’t done,” I told him as his fingers pulled my nightgown up. “You’re done,” he told me as my hands slid around his back. “No, seriously, I wasn’t—” His lips came to mine, his hard hips pressed into my soft ones and he growled, “You can have more later.”
