It was just turning that preternatural gray that heralds the coming of morning. Clare rolled over in the wide sleigh bed and stretched. Sean was NOT in bed. Where on earth could he be? it was their seventh wedding anniversary - New Year's Eve. That it was a Saturday was a double bonus, since it meant neither one had to make up an excuse for not going to work, and it meant they could sleep in. So where WAS he?
She sat up, and looked out the window. A winter wonderland met her delighted gaze, and it was still snowing. Hard!
"Honey!" she called out, hopping out of bed. She had just turned thirty on Christmas Eve, to Sean's forty. She was a diminutive girl, barely passing the five foot mark, while her husband was a solid six-footer with an inch or two to spare. But what she lacked in height, she made up for in muscle and mouth.
"Sean!" she hollered at the top of her lungs, and jumped when he said, behind her,
"Boo!"
He easily avoided the slap she aimed at him, and scooped her up in his arms like so much thistledown. She relaxed immediately, and snuggled into his chest, feeling his lips on her cheeks. His touch electrified her, no matter how asexual it was.
"Happy anniversary, sweetheart!" he whispered, before caressing her lips with his. Still a gentle touch, with no hint of the passion and power she knew he was so good at concealing.
"What are we going to do today?" she asked, when he deposited her back on the bed.
"Everything I do today will be a gift!" he promised. "But you'll love them -- all seven of them!" He bent and tasted her top lip, leaving a wet spot that he blew on before he stood up again. "Ready for the first one?"
Sean explained that they were to spend the entire day at home, and that he would be ministering to her every need, and giving her seven of the personal attentions she most desired and enjoyed. Each gift would be accompanied by kisses, to match the number of the gift. The first gift, her favorite breakfast -- eggs over easy, ham, Canadian bacon, hash browns, banana pancakes, strawberry syrup -- had ended with the first of what were to become increasingly more seductive and sensual kisses, pulling a response from her that she did not know she could give from kissing alone...and that had been hours ago.
It was already 11:00 p.m., and Clare had already received five of her seven gifts, including the facial - # 2, the manicure -- # 3, the foot massage - # 4, and the pedicure - # 5. She blushed when she remembered the heated kisses they had shared after each gift had been given and received. Each set of kisses had been hotter and more seductive than the ones before, because Sean had varied not only his techniques, but also the places on which he'd sucked and licked her, and left the lingeringly sweet impression of his tongue and teeth and lips. She hadn't discovered until today that Sean knew a lot more about her than she realized.
She heard him in the bathroom, and heard water running. Ah! A bath was gift # 6. She felt smug -- she hadn't been able to guess any of the surprise gifts up to this point, and when he walked into the room, she said triumphantly,
"This one's not a surprise! You're setting a bath!"
"Ah! But a bath such as you've never had before, my sweet! And therein lies the surprise!"
He pulled her up from the chaise where she had been lounging, reading the latest in a series of romance novels that he had bought for her.
"Come on, the water's warm!"
He pulled her into the bathroom, and the scent of jasmine flavored the air. Steam rose from the tub, shadowing the windows. Candlelight threw the room into seductive light and shade, and music was playing in the background. She listened, letting him tug her pajama bottoms down her legs. It was a country love song, one of her favorites, by Tim McGraw, one of her favorite singers. She hummed along, feeling her heart begin to beat faster, and her hearing her breath begin to quicken. Sean's hands were teasing her flesh, and his breathing was faster, too.
"Get in!" he invited her hoarsely, before planting a wet kiss on a nipple.
Clare stepped into the bath, and the heat of the water seeped into her as she sank up to her neck in suds. Sean put a rolled neck pillow behind her head, and she lay back and closed her eyes.
"Mmmmmm! Thanks, sweetie! This is great!" When he didn't answer, she opened her eyes, and saw that he was standing over her, staring down into her face, and not hiding the love he felt for her, or the desire that raged in him.
"Make way!" he said, and stepped in, settling himself opposite her on the other side of the tub. He leaned back and closed his eyes, and Clare watched him, marveling that such a man as this could love her.
"Come here!" he said, without opening his eyes, as though he knew she was staring at him. She slid around the side and came to rest next to him, and he pout his arm around her shoulders, turning his head to look at her.
"Are you enjoying your day, sweetheart?" he wanted to know, but kissed her before she could answer. "Because you should know, I'm enjoying mine. Immensely!"
His tongue left a warm trail across her cheeks, stopping on the way to delight in the plumpness of her lips, and the succulent sweetness of her tongue on his. He turned slightly and put both arms around her, pulling her over onto his lap. He was hard as a wall, and his cock twitched when she settled her bottom against it. The song on the CD had changed -- it was Faith Hill now, singing about kisses.
"You're so soft," he said, almost in wonder.
Clare chuckled, and looked up at him. "And you're not," she said, and pushed her bottom against his erection. He groaned.
"Behave, missy!" he admonished her. "Not time for that yet!"
He kissed her again, slow, deep, wet, making her wish it were time right then. "Would the lady like her back scrubbed?" he wondered aloud. "Deluxe service in this establishment includes a back rub with the bath, and champagne. The champagne will be waiting for my lady when she has been powdered and lotioned and perfumed."
Clare giggled. "The service so far today at Chez McLaughlin's has been superlative!" She whispered. "Especially the bonus kisses after each treatment!"
She turned her face up, and Sean lowered his head, willing to oblige her and give her the kiss she sought. Their tongues mated passionately, before Sean raised his head reluctantly, clearing his throat.
"The back scrub, my lady, is next on the agenda!"
The song changed again, and now it was a song about a party for two by another favorite, Shania Twain. Clare let him wash her back, and moaned when he turned his attention to her front. Her breasts ached for his touch, and every time he passed by her clit, she sighed with intense pleasure.
"Sean!" She called his name, and he slid a finger over her aching bud. "Baby, please!"
"Patience, my lady!" he said hoarsely. "Things can only get better, you know!"
Billy Currington began to croon his tune about how he must be doing something right, and suddenly, Clare was impatient to be out of the bath. She was ready for "better" NOW! But Sean tortured her, washing her tenderly, sensually, teasing her aching flesh, and by the time he had given her the last of the six kisses that went with this gift, she was trembling with need, and wet inside the sexy pink thongs he had bought for her, to wear with the hot pink kitty cat nightie top with the cut away belly panel that allowed her outie belly button to peep out at him before he kissed it, sucking it in and tickling it with his teeth before licking it one last time.
Never had Clare been so alive with need, so edgy with desire. Sean had strung her along all day, and now she felt as though she would die if he didn't take her right then and there! She trembled even after he sat her on the chaise and wrapped her in a thick animal-print fur blanket. He left her with a warm kiss o her lips, and a knowing smile on his, to let the water out of the tub. When he walked back in he carried a bottle of champagne and two fluted glasses. He popped the top, poured the golden liquid into the glasses and set the bottle aside before bringing her glass to her.
