AMARETTO

By Eliza
elizawpg@shaw.ca

RATING/CATEGORY: NC17 graphic sexual content
SUMMARY: Marta practices her knot tying. She wasn't kidding about that rope, dammit!
SERIES: 11th in the Liquor Series. Sequel to "Vino Verde" Also a missing scene from "The Ambuscade"
DEDICATION: I would like to thank Becca Abbott for coming up with the suggestion of the sticky, sweetness in the title and for writing some wonderful stories that have acted as inspiration naughty stuff like this.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: More pink roses to Li for giving this a careful read and pointing out all the embarrassing spit infinitives.

~~~~~

Marta had the distinct feeling that she was being watched. When she looked up, the sight of green eyes and a wide smile immediately put her mind at ease but stirred other far more discerning parts. She strolled casually across the kitchen to the man leaning against the frame of the open half of the kitchen's Dutch door. "Good afternoon, Doctor. What brings you here today?"

Robert snickered. "You don't have to bother with the social facade. Judging from the comments that Pedro made when he took my horse, I would guess that our secret is out and that it has the approval of the entire ranch."

"That would explain a few things," she muttered, rolling her eyes as she remembered the giggles that seemed to follow her lately as she went about her daily chores. "But it didn't answer my question - what are you doing all the way out there?"

"I've been to the Hidalgos' to check on the rancheros that didn't bother to come to my office after their skirmish with Bouchard's men. I thought I'd drop by on my way home to let you know that Tessa and Katerina are all right."

"The Hidalgo hacienda is on the other side of the pueblo. Coming here wasn't on your way home." Robert responded to the accusation with a casual shrug and widening grin.

Marta knew exactly why he had made the trip - and she wasn't complaining - but the presumption was not like him. "Tessa sent a message this morning asking if there had been any trouble here and telling me that they were safe. She is spending the night with Vera to help the senora settle her nerves."

"Really? Leaving you here all alone?" He didn't sound at all surprised, and Marta wondered exactly what Tessa had told him during his visit to the Hidalgo hacienda. She would have to have a talk with the young senorita... tomorrow.

Robert opened the kitchen door, inviting himself in, and continued with his concerned questioning. "What if the pirates come back?"

This was too good an opportunity to pass up. "I have that," she indicated a coil of fine rope on a hook near the door, "and four strong bedposts. I'm sure I could think of something." She had guessed right. There was that look in his eye she had seen the previous week.

Robert closed both halves of the kitchen door and made sure they were both bolted before turning back to her. "It is best to have a detailed plan in case of such an emergency. Perhaps you should have a practice run."

"That is very sound advice." Marta picked up the heavy skillet sitting beside the stove and took a swing at Robert. She almost fell to the floor from the combination of the momentum of the cast iron and the laughter that had weakened her knees at the sight of the shock on his face.

He wrenched the frying pan from her hand and tossed it onto the table. "What the Hell are you doing, woman!"

Marta made an attempt at sounding both serious and innocent. "I'm practising for the pirates! I would have to knock them over the head in order to get them tied up. No man in his right mind would volunteer to be bound -- helpless... vulnerable." She even managed to bat her eyelashes at him without letting a grin escape.

Robert took a deep breath, and she saw the challenge appear in his eyes as he stepped closer. "You are more than capable of completely muddling my mind without the help of a concussion."

"I am?" She could play the air headed ingenue as well as Tessa.

"You are," he whispered into her ear. He was very close, but the only thing that touched her was his breath.

"Would it be by doing something like... this?" Marta slid her finger into the hair brushing the back of his collar and pulled him into a hard kiss. She had to fight to keep from falling into the sensation herself, for it was only meant as a distraction. Her other hand dealt the vital blow. It moved up the front of his trousers, gently over soft flesh but with more pressure when it found a familiar firmness. Within half a dozen strokes, she was almost clawing her way through the fabric in order to provide enough stimulation to match his reaction.

Robert captured her inciting hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her close against him. The kiss changed, or maybe she just allowed herself to experience it fully. She had guaranteed that there would be no preliminaries, and this kiss went straight to the point - a mutual tasting using every part of the tongue, every part of the mouth. Each new sensation sending waves of pleasure moving down her spine. Their lips were moving in a rhythm set by their breathing and their heartbeats - a rhythm matched as well by the movements of his hand, which had found its way under her arm. His thumb caressed the top of her breast while the heel of his hand pressed against her corset, over the peak. Her other nipple hardened in sympathy and the lighter pressure of her underclothes caused another set of tingles to course through her body. It was the type of kiss that made her wonder if that is all that was necessary, as the shocks and flutters that had been working their way down her body settled at the base of her belly.

He started to slowly walk them both through the kitchen, further into the house. The movement brought Marta far enough out of her lust-induced haze to remember the plan she had for the rest of the day... and night. She pulled out of Robert's grasp and retrieved the length of rope that was to be her new laundry line. She snickered at the resigned sigh and put-upon expression that greeted her as she turned back to him. She wasn't going to let him get out of this one. The reaction that she had witnessed in his office to this idea had been far too encouraging.

"You weren't serious." She could tell he was trying to sound dismayed, but his anticipation shone through.

"Do I need to get the skillet again?"

"No. But my mind is clearing rapidly. It needs another distraction." Robert leered as he reached for her.

Giggling, Marta dodged past him and sprinted out of the kitchen and down the corridor. It was a good thing that the race was short and over familiar territory, or he would have caught her before she reached her room. Between her skirts and his long legs, she was at a distinct disadvantage. The rope went onto a chair just inside the door and she placed herself on the far side of the bed from her pursuer.

Robert dove onto the bed to reach for her, but she stopped the play with a sharp, "No boots on the bed." He dropped his head onto his arms with a frustrated groan, and in doing so missed the wide, evil grin that Marta let spread across her face. She quickly moved back around the bed to strip off his boots and socks, as well as to tie a pair of slip knots in the ends of the rope. She nudged and prodded at him until he shifted onto his back, with his feet now at the end of the bed. Then she went to work on his pants.

"You're not wasting any time, are you?" It didn't sound like a complaint, but Robert didn't seem as happy with the situation as Marta had expected. She studied him from where she knelt between his thighs. He seemed uncertain, and it wasn't until he reached out to caress her cheek gently that she realized what was wrong. She leaned into the touch and closed her eyes. That was it. Their lovemaking had always been affectionate -- passionate and playful, but tender. Today there seemed to be a harder edge, and she could understand how that might be a little disconcerting. She had been thinking about this for days, whereas he had probably dismissed it, assuming that she had been teasing and wouldn't dare follow through. He should have known better. She opened her eyes to meet his gaze and was heartened by the familiar warmth there. She caught the edge of his hand between her teeth; the warmth flared into fire. She grinned around the gentle bite, and he answered with a chuckle. They were again in the same place.

Marta returned her attention to the trousers. She paused, after yanking the clothes down from his hips, to take his cock in her mouth. It was only for a few seconds -- a handful of strokes, just enough to draw his focus to something other than what she was going to do. She slid off the end of the bed in order to remove his pants completely and to bring the ends of the rope around the outsides of the bedposts. She swiftly slipped his feet within the loops and tightened them.

"Hey!!" Robert tried to sit up, but Marta had already straddled his hips and was leaning on his chest, pinning him to the bed.

She barely had time to whisper, "Surprise," before he took advantage of her position to steal a kiss. It was hard and fast - he was quickly catching up with her. She pushed his hands to the bed and slid hers along his arms as she sat up, breaking away from him. He didn't follow, but lay passive, allowing her to stroke his shoulders and chest through the material of his shirt.

Marta was silently cursing the amount of fabric underneath her. The bunched up skirt and petticoat created too much padding under her bottom for her to appreciate where she was sitting. To move it would break the focus of the game, so for now she would have to be satisfied with the skin under her hands. She slowly opened his shirt, one button at a time, starting from the bottom. Now, with every expanse of skin exposed, she developed a small ritual - a light brush with the backs of her fingers, a firmer touch with the full palm of her hand, then a gentle scratch starting from the centre and moving to his sides. He was so beautiful. She had rarely had the opportunity just to look and touch without having to deal immediately with the reaction such attention produced. She was going to indulge herself today.

The last button slid free. She ran her hands up his torso in a firm caress reminiscent of their first time together. Robert sat up as she reached his shoulder and slid his arms out of the shirt. She gathered up the cloth and tossed it to the floor as he enveloped her in his embrace. The kiss this time was devouring. He was taking what he wanted, not even allowing her a moment to breathe. His hands massaged her hips and buttocks, pulling her against his crotch. Then she suddenly realized what he was doing. He had pulled her skirts out of the way, and the tip of his now very hard cock was resting against her opening. It was her moment of stunned stillness that allowed Robert to drag her against him again, and the head slid in.

She pulled back at this intrusion. "Oops," was all he said, innocently, before she toppled him flat onto his back.

Marta was becoming impatient with his constant need to take the dominant role. It was this trait that had attracted her to the idea of restraint in the first place. For just this one night, she wanted to be in control from beginning to end -- even if she had to tie him down to do it. It looked as if that was what it was going to take. "Are we going to do this or not?" she demanded.

"I'd love to oblige, but you seem to be at the end of your rope." He seemed very pleased with his joke as he tugged at the bonds at his ankles. She answered his smug grin by leaning forward and resting her full weight on his chest. She stretched first toward one bedpost, then the other. She started to chuckle at the surprise on his face at seeing the two looped ends of another length of rope.

"Wishful thinking," she informed him in response to the silent question on his face.

"You've been thinking about this a lot."

"During the last week - yes."

"You're scaring me again, Marta." He sounded completely serious, but he was also sliding his hands into the loops. She watched him carefully as she tightened the restraints around his wrists. The smile that filled his face removed any reservations that had remained in the back of her mind. "OK. Now that you have me..." It was a dare if she had ever heard one.

~~~~~

"Don't worry. I've had more than enough time to think about this," Marta said. Then she looked at him. Carefully. It was if she was memorizing every line, every mark. He had never felt more naked in his life. When she eventually brought her gaze back to his face, the only thought that ran through his mind in reaction to her intense expression was, Oh my God, what have I done.

It must have shown on his face, for she started to giggle. Not snicker, not the sensual little chuckle that he loved so much, but a very girlish giggle. It was not comforting, but he wasn't disconcerted anymore either. At that point, the giggle turned into a real laugh. She climbed up on the bed and started to cover his face with kisses.

"That's not helping," he managed to say around all the smooching.

"I don't know when you are cuter - when you're panicked or when you're annoyed." She slid off the bed again.

"Cute is not a state most men strive for."

She cocked her head and studied him for a moment. "No. Pompous is not a good look for you. I think you should stay with incensed."

"Marta!"

"There! That's it. That deserves a reward." Her hands went around to her back, and he knew what was coming. He stayed quiet; he didn't want to give her any reason to change her course of action. She didn't draw it out, but she didn't rush in removing her clothes. It was as if he wasn't there, except for the fact that she made sure to stay in his line of sight. She hung up her dress, folded her stockings, put away her corset. Her movements had a natural sensuality in their ease and artlessness.

She was standing close by the edge of the bed in her chemise and pantalets when she stopped the disrobing, placed her hands on her hips, and said, "I think we need some refreshments." She practically skipped out of the room, leaving Robert to voice his complaints at this sudden change of tack to the empty air. Then he started to assess his predicament.

I must be out of my mind. Although he trusted Marta completely, being tied down went against every survival instinct he had ever developed. This was hardly a perilous situation. The knots Marta had tied were not meant to prevent an escape -- a little pressure and they would slip enough for him to be free. The pirates were likely no longer an issue -- Bouchard's ship had left the area. The only danger he might face was the arrival an ill-timed visitor. You couldn't die from embarrassment - could you? Marta had made an important point in the kitchen - what kind of man would allow himself to be this defenceless? And what had given her the idea that he would be agreeable to this in the first place?!

He could hear her returning, and his cock twitched in anticipation. It had not lost any sign of interest in the situation during his brief crisis. He looked down at the willful organ. "Traitor," he accused. It just bobbed at him in response.

He was chuckling to himself by the time Marta reappeared in the doorway. She looked at him suspiciously. "Should I leave again? You seem to be having fun all by yourself."

"No. No, leaving me alone with my own thoughts is not a good idea. I was expecting lemonade and cookies. What did you find? Brandy?" he asked with a grin and a wink. Every time Marta had managed to spend the evening, they had shared a glass of the excellent vintage that Tessa had found for them. The bottle of brandy had lasted far too long in Robert's opinion.

Marta uncorked the bottle in her hand and inhaled the aroma of the liquor. The expression of pleasure on her face showed him that it must be a favourite of hers, but that didn't help him identify spirits. "It's not Calvados, is it?" he asked, with a little pang of irrational jealousy. The young man that had introduced her to the French apple brandy had not been a part of her life for over 15 years. The memory, however, still brought a flush to her cheeks.

The wariness must have been evident in his voice, for her it prompted a strong reaction from Marta. "No! Don't be ridiculous." She took a little sip before setting the bottle on the bedside table.

"Don't I get any?"

That brought the impishness back into her expression. "No. Men don't like this. They are used to drinking horrible stuff that they have to gulp in order to get it down. They don't know how to enjoy a liqueur like this." She was undoing the laces of her chemise.

Robert cleared his throat and was chagrined to hear that his voice still had dropped an octave. "But you know how to enjoy it."

She grinned as her pantalets dropped to the floor and she crawled up on the bed to sit on her heels by his side. She reclaimed the bottle as she spoke, "I certainly do. It is only meant to be tasted -- sipped. As if it is the aroma that you are drinking. Another way to appreciate the flavour is to blend it with something else."

Marta paused as if waiting for a cue. Robert was very willing to provide it. "And how would you do that?" he asked, already certain of the answer.

"An easy way is to use it as a sauce." With that remark, she carefully tipped the bottle so that a small amount drizzled onto his abdomen. He tightened the muscles, both in reaction to the cooler liquid and to prevent it from running down his sides. She had a steady hand though, and the small pool stayed where she poured it.

She seemed to flow over him. A hand was placed on each side of his body, and her breast brushed against his erection. She seemed oblivious to everything but the small puddle of liquid just below his breastbone. She studied it carefully, and then he saw her tongue come out to lap delicately at it like a kitten with cream. "Mmmmm," she said, with the undertone of a laugh.

He couldn't help himself; he had to lift his hips into the softness that was teasing him. "Stop," Marta chided. "You're going to spill."

"No kidding," Robert muttered.

With a big grin, she noisily slurped up the rest then cleaned the spot with a couple of wide swipes of her tongue.

"What happened to sipping?"

"I have a better idea."

She moved further up his torso and tilted his head back. He found that a little uncomfortable. Not physically, but because he couldn't see what she was doing. He could see her face, however, and the look of pleasure and mischief was worth the slight uneasiness. He felt the liquid again, this time at the hollow at the base of his throat, and now he caught the distinctive aroma - almonds. He had sampled some of the spirits made from the tree nuts abundant in warmer climes - walnuts, hazelnuts, almonds - but he had shied away from the very sweet liqueurs. Maybe Marta had a point about men gulping 'horrible stuff', he might have to change that practice.

He felt a drop escape and run down his collarbone but she caught it before it reached the bedding. As she ran her tongue along the path of the errant liquor, the lower half of her body come into view. Her legs were folded under her, but as she leaned forward, her backside lifted from her heels. How he wanted to run his hand over the smooth curve of her hip, press his fingers into the softness of her cheeks, reach between them to the warm folds. Would they be slick with moisture? Was she as affected by this as he was? He found his attention refocused by the weight of her hand on his forehead and her brown eyes staring down into his.

"You're squirming again."

"Wasn't that the purpose of the exercise?" he asked in all innocence, and was surprised, therefore, by the way she quickly bit her lip, quickened her breathing, and shifted in a very telling manner.

"Oh, yes." Her voice was low and husky, and Robert again wondered what he had gotten himself into. Then the teasing twinkle returned to her eyes, along with the hint of a grin. "But if I have to keep gulping up the Amaretto, I am going to be drunk before we are finished. I may even forget to untie you. You need to relax, have a nap, let me do what I want to do, and I'll wake you up when your attention is needed again." She started to stroke gently with her thumb between his eyes.

"A nap! Fine!" He closed his eyes, annoyed and intent on completely ignoring her presence, but he discovered very quickly that the idea of having a nap was out of the question. Now that he was no longer distracted by thoughts of what he was unable to see or do, he was very aware of everything Marta was doing. The gentle stroking along his brow was very relaxing but it also helped assure that he wouldn't move his head. He felt a little more of the liquid being poured, this time from his chin down his throat. The little purrs of pleasure that she made as she laved his skin with her lips and tongue were as arousing as the touches. He could feel the slow slide of a drop down the far side of his throat, and she leaned across him to reach it. That brought her nipples -- he could feel that they were hard -- brushing across his chest. He involuntarily flexed his hips. So much for feigning disinterest.

There must have been some liqueur remaining in the notch between his collarbones, for she returned her attention there. Her other hand moved to his hip, likely for the purpose of keeping that part of him still as well. Then again maybe not, for she began to caress his leg. She slid her hand down the top as far as she could reach and returned along the inside of his thigh, the backs of her fingers just brushing his scrotum before moving along the joint and back again along the top and outside of his thigh. As she had established this distracting tactile rhythm, her mouth had not been idle. She must have cleaned all of the alcohol-laced syrup off of his throat, for she had started to move over his chest. After following a seemingly random pattern, her lips brushed over one of his nipples. At the same moment, instead of just brushing past them, her tormenting hand cupped his balls The pressure of the gentle squeeze of her fingers was matched by a soft bite as her teeth caught the now hard nub of flesh. That induced an involuntary moan.

Robert was slightly startled at the sound of his own voice and opened his eyes. She was looking up at him from the pillow she had made of his chest. Her soft, dark curls were spread over his torso, her breasts lightly pressed against his side. He couldn't read her expression but continued to watch her as she licked her finger, ran it down the side of his neck and then licked it again. "Yummy. Do you want a taste?"

Robert had a sudden flash of inspiration. "I want whatever you are willing to give me."

She must not have been expecting an answer like that for she took a very deep breath and held it while her eyes darkened. She sat up to reach for the bottle on the bedside table, but detoured and instead lightly pressed her lips to his. It was a very tender kiss, so out of character with the rest of the play that it surprised him. It must have caught Marta off guard, too, for when she pulled back Robert was sure there was a haze of tears in her eyes.

She turned away for the moment it took to retrieve the bottle, and when she looked at him again the wicked glint was back. More of the liqueur was poured into the hollow at the top of his abdomen, then she dipped her breast into the puddle. He almost moaned again and licked his lips at the thought of what was coming. She braced her hands on the headboard but stopped her descent to his eager mouth. "You are looking far too pleased with yourself."

Robert raised an eyebrow, not sure whether she was just teasing. "Marta, you are an evil, evil woman."

"That's much better," she said and arched her back.

That movement brought the wet nipple to his lips, but he didn't deliberately tease the sensitive flesh. He made a point of removing the liqueur a efficiently as possible, as if the swipe of his tongue and the suction of his mouth bringing pleasure was just an afterthought. It was far from that though; he gained almost as much enjoyment from watching the expression on her face as from the soft flesh at his lips. He made very sure to remove every tiny bit of Amaretto before suggesting, "How about the other one?"

"Greedy."

"For you -- always."

She chuckled at the flattery, but she obliged. The tip of the other breast was also coated and thoroughly cleaned. This time when she moved up to his mouth she dragged the rest of her body over him, spreading the rest of the liquid over his chest and her belly. He absently wondered how far down the trail of almond scented sweetness continued as he followed it from the underside of her breast and over her ribs. She aided in this exploration by slowly easing toward the headboard. As she moved up his body, she had to widen her stance, and by the time her knees were tight under his arms, the scent of almond was not longer the prevalent one. He stretched to mouth the edge of the patch of dark curls. Silently, he was begging her to move just a little higher, her rich musk far more desirable then the sweetness that had been pervading the room.

She suddenly swung her leg over him and slid off the bed. Robert was torn between despair and anger at being deprived of her again. Then he noticed her expression. She was looking at him, not studying him like earlier, but feasting on him with her eyes as if he was a meal she was being denied. Her breathing was rapid, there was a fine sheen of sweat on her skin. Why was she holding back? He was under her control and she could have whatever she wanted. "I've imagined you like this," she said. " Just like this. Straining slightly against the bonds, fingers wrapped around the ropes, waiting for the next touch." She slowly moved back up on the bed. "The only difference is that in my fantasies you tasted salty instead of sweet."

"Then don't pour syrup over me next time."

She raised her eyebrows at the phrase -- 'next time'. He hadn't meant to say that. "Oh, no. I like the sweet," she growled as she stretched out her body alongside his. She scraped her teeth along his last rib, licked her way up his breastbone and wrapped her lips around a nipple, sucking just enough to make him arch into the sensation. She broke contact with a grin. "And if I want salty, I know where to find it."

Robert followed the movement of her eyes and held his breath. She had avoided any direct contact with his cock; the only stimulation it had received had been as a result of accidental brushes. Now she seemed focused on the clear drop of liquid found at the tip. It hadn't been the first to well there, but the others had run either onto his belly or down the head. She licked her lips and he managed to hold in the whimper that threatened to escape.

Again sitting on her heels, she started with the liquid that had been caught in the hairs trailing down from his navel. Then, after re-establishing eye contact, she delicately caught the drop that was threatening to fall from the edge of the flaring head. The sensation on his skin was so light that if he hadn't seen it he might have thought he had imagined it. The next feeling, however, was very definitely not a figment of his imagination, for she roughly licked the rest of his cock and then engulfed the head, wrapping her lips under the rim and thoroughly covering it with tiny flicks of her tongue while applying steady suction.

Fortunately, this did not last long, for Robert was having doubts about the quality of his control after her touch had been withheld for so long. The look on her face did little to dampen his passion; it seemed to reflect his mounting desire. Her eyes were dark and heavily lidded, her lips red, swollen, and slightly parted. Her hair was falling onto her shoulders in a riot of curls that begged him to slide his hands into the mass, to bring her mouth to his for a kiss. Then he noted the resolve in her expression. She straddled his waist and rested her weight on her hands as she slid her body down his.

His erection stopped her downward slide, and he groaned at the amount of moisture that he could feel between her thighs. It wasn't at quite the right spot, but a tilt of her hips sent the tip of his cock sliding through slick heat until it reached a place where there was no longer resistance. She gave him the smallest of smiles and then sat up. In one smooth motion he was in her and the sigh that she gave was so erotic that in order not to embarrass himself, he had to close his eyes and try to think of anything but the woman on top of him. That was impossible, but he did manage to shift his focus from his cock to his chest and the sensation of her hands sliding over it and down his arms.

Marta loosened the loops that held his wrists and pulled them off. "I want your hands on me," she purred.

He opened one eye. The tone of her voice had prompted a revelation. "Untie my feet," he insisted. Now he understood that the main drive in this exercise had been anticipation, not power. She had been denying herself as much as she had been denying him, but she had been revelling in the tension rather than chafing against it. He remembered their first time together - how she had drawn out the evening until he would not be put off any longer. Since then, their opportunities had been so brief and infrequent that he had not wanted to waste a single minute. He understood the joys of savouring the moment, but the idea of delayed gratification with her seemed redundant; every moment away from her was spent in anticipation of the next. Yet he certainly couldn't complain about the outcome of today's sojourn. He should be allowed a little time to enjoy it, even though his mind had been a little slow in catching up with what his body seemed to know from the beginning.

The restraints were off of his ankles, and Marta was again straddling him, sliding herself onto his cock. This was going to be difficult, but he was sure it would be worth it. "Touch me," she breathed into his ear, leaning over him again.

Robert slid his fingers back into the loops at the headboard and wrapped the extra rope around his palms. "No," he said.

~~~~~

"No?" Marta sat up straight. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, she had been certain that he would grab her and unleash all his frustration in a way that might break the bed frame. She had even come up with a reasonable, well... possible explanation for Tessa should that happen. "What do you mean - no?"

"You wanted to do all of the work today..." He grinned as he let the rest of the thought trail off.

Not that smile! Oh no, I've created a monster. Then Marta saw the grip that Robert had on the ropes wrapped around his hands and knew there was a good chance that her excuse about a broken bedframe would still be needed. She returned the smile and noted the slight widening of his eyes. This was going to be an extremely satisfying battle of wills.

Her hands had been resting on her knees. She slid them along the inside of her thighs, her fingertips brushing Robert's skin she caressed her own. When she reached her groin, she raised herself up and lightly scratched the base of his cock. She seemed to close her eyes as her fingers continued along her own swollen flesh to find the source of her pleasure, but she continued to watch Robert through her eyelashes. He had raised his shoulders off the mattress so that he could watch her. His jaw had dropped, his lips were parted, and the green eyes were devouring the sight before them. She let out a soft moan and started to rock her hips, causing the gentlest of movements within her. His teeth clicked as his jaw snapped shut. His nostrils flared, and she could hear the deep breath that he took as he let his head fall back on the bed.

His reaction was as arousing as the pressure of her fingers, so she allowed one hand to journey up her body, to give him something to continue to watch. When she reached her breast she squeezed it, pulling the nipple into hardness with a rough touch that Robert would never use. Then she started to play with the swollen nub and watched his tongue emerge to wet his lips, or maybe to taste the liqueur that might still linger there. She suddenly wanted a taste as well. Her fingers moved from her body to thread in the much softer silk of his hair. As her lips softly brushed his, Marta realized she not kissed him enough today. Not that she ever could, but with the distraction of their play she had been remiss. She lingered at it, luxuriating in it as if time stopped for that kiss. When it ended and she met his gaze, she could see that he regretted the end of the intimate contact as much as she did. Marta made herself a promise to spend as much time attending to his mouth as she had to the rest of his body. She tried to convey that to him in her smile and her eyes, but the fulfilment of the promise would have to wait until later - there were more pressing concerns at the moment.

Leaning forward to reach his lips had almost caused her to let his cock escape her. Now, as she sat up, the feeling as she slid back onto him was unexpectedly exquisite. She spread both her hands on his chest, catching his nipples tightly between her fingers, as she recreated the sensation, moving in long strokes. Their eyes remained locked in silent communication until Robert closed his, then she could see the struggle for control on his face. She stopped, returning to her self-ministrations and the subtle motion that was more maddening than satisfying. A familiar tension was building quickly. She wanted desperately to feel him moving in her, powerful and fierce, caring for nothing but the demands of their bodies. She would settle for his hands on her skin. His strong fingers gripping her hips -- prompting her, lifting her, guiding her. Not sure whether to hold back or allow herself to fall over the rapidly approaching edge she asked, her voice rough and breathless, "Are you sure that you don't want to let go of those ropes? I feel as if I am being very selfish."

"I suggest that you finish the job yourself, for when I do let go of these ropes I am going to become very selfish."

That was just what she needed to hear. "Oh, good." This time she truly closed her eyes to revel in the rolling waves that were moving through her. There wasn't the hard crash that sometimes came, but the crests seemed to be lasting forever. The tremors hadn't completely died when she felt him stir under her, and then those amazing hands were on her back, supporting her as he sat up and laid her on the bed between his spread thighs. As he withdrew from her, she opened her eyes and managed to focus just in time to see him settling above her. Her hands found purchase on his shoulders, and she slid her knees up his ribs so that she could gain a firm hold with her heels on his hips. He entered her with an urgency that set off the tremors again. The wonderful surprise of it caused her to gasp, and the deep breath was released in one sighed word, "Perfect." That seem to be encouragement enough for him to be as selfish as he had threatened to be. All Marta could do was hang on tight.

Robert didn't break the bed frame, but by the time his final shudders calmed, Marta found herself with her head hanging over the foot of the bed. She noted that the majority of the covers were pushed up against the bedpost to her left and that the sheets to her right were no longer covering the feather tick. How had they managed that?

"How are you?" she heard him ask, his voice slightly muffled against her skin.

"Perfect." It was still the only word that seemed to be running around in her head.

She felt his smile. "You're going to slide off the end of the bed."

"That's all right. I have no bones to break at the moment."

That prompted a chuckle... Or was it a snicker?... It was hard to tell with his face buried in her belly. "How did you end up down there?" she asked.

"I'm trying to drag you back onto the bed, with very little co-operation I might add. Get up here, I want to hold you."

That was enough motivation to compel Marta to move. She even had the presence of mind to grab some of the blankets so that they wouldn't become chilled as the autumn evening set in. As she snuggled her backside against his hips, she noted something interesting. "You're still hard."

"Don't even think about it," he growled and pulled her back tightly against his chest. He had put one of his arms under her neck so that he could completely envelope her in his arms. Again that one word resurfaced in Marta's mind: perfect.

She wasn't sure how long she rested there, wrapped in Robert's embrace, lost in an obscenely comfortable post-coital haze, before her gaze started wander idly around the room. It rested on the bottle of Amaretto, temporarily forgotten on the bedside table. She reached over and tipped it so that she could judge through the dark glass how much was left.

"Did you finish it?" Robert mumbled sleepily against her neck.

"Not even close to half." She turned over to face him, and he backed away a little from what he must have seen in her expression. Even though she tried to restrain it, the smile threatened to fill her face. "I barely got started, you know. There is the whole lower half of your body that I ignored..."

"I don't feel ignored," Robert quickly interrupted, now looking fully awake, and panicked and adorable again.

"Wouldn't you want me to run some down the crease of your thigh so that I have to catch it before it hits the sheets?" Her fingers were following the path the liqueur would take. "And I could fill up your navel, my hair spread over your chest while I sip it out. There are also your knees..." Marta lifted herself up onto her elbow, her mind spilling over with ideas. "Or better yet, the backs of your knees! We can't forget about those. And that delicious curve at the small of your back. I could get drunk if I filled that. I could run the Amaretto all the way down your spine. And... Forget about the linens!" She reached around and couldn't help but let her grin widen as she firmly cupped his ass. "Some things were meant to be sugar coated."

"Ohmygod."

END