By Appointment Only by Janice Maynard

then what was most assuredly smug satisfaction.
    She grinned. “Men are so easy.”
    He snorted. “Just wait. Your turn will come. And I’ll have you begging for mercy.”
    He was teasing her. Trying to get his own recalcitrant hormones under control. But his lighthearted words had an unusual effect on his wife.
    Her pupils expanded as her lashes widened. Her hand went to her throat. Her mouth opened as though she wanted to say something, but she remained mute.
    When he thought he could touch her without pushing her to the bed and mounting her in a frenzy of insanity, he walked toward her slowly, holding her gaze with his.
    She wet her lips. “What are you doing?”
    He grinned. “You have to ask, Danita? After all these years?”
    He held her waist, keeping her at arm’s length as he kissed her lightly. It was sweet, chaste, slow, and lazy. And it wasn’t enough. He peeled her dress halfway down, stopping to admire the hot-pink bra she wore. It was made of delicate, sheer lace in the front, and he could see her dark, pointy nipples.
    He ran his thumb over one, then scraped it with his thumb-nail. Danita trembled violently and closed her eyes. He bent his head and wet the lace with his tongue. He sucked the nipple and areola into his mouth and bit gently.
    Now she whimpered, twisting restlessly in his embrace. He reached behind her and unfastened the bra, releasing the catch and tossing the delicate garment aside. He stared down at her tits. They were a guy’s most incredible wet dream, full and bouncy and perfectly curved.
    She was still covered from the waist down. He figured that was necessary if he was supposed to hold out for an entire hour. A man could only withstand so much temptation. He kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, the side of her throat. Danita’s arms hung at her sides. Her eyes were closed now, and her chest rose and fell.
    He deliberately took each nipple between his fingers and pinched. She gasped. He twisted and tugged and then sank his teeth into the tender skin just above her collarbone. Danita went rigid and her hips pressed restlessly toward his. The skirt of her dress brushed his cock.
    He gripped her wrists and tucked them behind her back, bringing her body in full contact with his. He muttered in her ear, “You are so damn hot. I want to fuck you here. Right now.” When Danita groaned and struggled, he licked the tiny set of teeth marks on her fair skin. “But I can’t. We’re not supposed to, right?”
    Her eyes opened, blank with shock and hunger. “Why not?” she cried, clearly having forgotten their surroundings.
    He bent her backward over his arm and sucked her nipples one at a time. She struggled to free her wrists and he allowed it. Her hands clenched in his hair. He blew on the wet skin of her breasts, and Danita made a keening cry.
    He froze and thrust her away, holding on only long enough to make sure she had regained her balance.
    She reached for him. “Please,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed and her breathing ragged.
    He held up his hands. “Foreplay only . . . remember? You were about to come.”
    Danita stared at him in shock. She glanced at the small, discreet clock on the bedside table. They had been in this little room for only twenty-five minutes. And she’d been on the brink of an orgasm already. What did that mean?
    Her head was reeling. There had been nights in the past year when Shaun had stroked her patiently—for hours it seemed—and she’d never been able to find release.
    And now in no time at all, she was a seething cauldron of want and need, so close to an orgasm she could taste its shimmering allure just around the corner.
    “They’ll never know,” she said wildly. “Please.”
    Shaun stared at her soberly. He was as hungry as she was, the evidence impossible to hide. But he shook his head. “We’re going to follow the rules, my love. Or why else have we come?”
    She hated him for his self-control when she felt like shattering into a