Tudor beamed a smile and wiped the tears from my eyes with his thumb. “Now even when we’re apart, you’ll always have me close.” I snapped the locket shut and noticed script on the back: ‘You are my sunshine’
“Okay, and now for the main gift.”
My mouth gaped in shock. “Tudor, this is enough. I don’t need anything else.”
He didn’t reply but instead began to strip. Yep, strip, like a live showing of Magic Mike in my bedroom.
“Tudor, What-?” My ability to speak drew to a halt as his shirt and trousers hit the cream-coloured carpet. My gaze zeroed in. No, not where you’re thinking! Okay, maybe I did peruse his lovely disco-stick somewhat, but that is not what had me sweating.
I gasped, and my wide eyes flew back to his.
He scrunched up his nose and bit his bottom lip with nerves. "Surprise! I flew to Vancouver yesterday to my artist. I just arrived back a couple of hours ago."
Low on his hip, opposite to his already body-long tribal tattoo, was a large black Maori sun, clear in the centre with thick black solar flares draping over his lower torso, set off just to his right.
"A sun?" I asked in awe.
He nodded, a shy smile ghosting on his lips.
"For me? You flew all the way to Vancouver and back in a day to do this for me?" I whispered.
"For you, Sunshine," he whispered back, whilst moving to stand before me and stroking my cheek with his finger.
Phew! Forget oysters, forget Viagra, and forget chocolate – okay, not chocolate, let's not get carried away – the best aphrodisiac, the best turn on in the world, is when your man brands himself with ink just for you. You may not all agree, and each to their own, but for me, 'Oh, Mamma Mia!'
I suddenly recalled our conversation in the hot tub when Tudor had declared that he hadn’t got tattoos on his right side because he had ‘been saving it for someone special, a blank canvas just for them.’
Was I that someone special? I studied Tudor’s contented and happy face, and he nodded to my inner question, knowing exactly what I was thinking.
Without any warning, I pounced on him. I started at his head, placing kisses all the way down his fine body. He sucked in a breath when I got down to his stomach, perched on my knees and made a play for his 'V', that was now smothered with a sun just for me, his ‘someone special’ with my hot, hungry mouth.
I jumped up in record time, rid myself of my dress, faced Tudor and clothes-lined him to the bed. I began to maul him – pure, unadulterated ravishing. I had gone full nympho on his fine ass!
I licked around the ridges of hard muscle and ‘my’ tattoo which made him squirm and hiss. "Fuck!"
Encouraged, I sucked down harder and crept up his skin with my fingers; he burst out in laughter and curled into a protective ball. I had learned before now that a certain Mr. North couldn't take a good tickle, and I ended up laughing with him at how he begged me to stop – my tattooed muscle bad boy was now my ticklish little baby!
I crawled back over him slowly, hands on either side of his head, and he brushed a piece of my hair behind my ear. "Natasha Munro, are you trying to seduce me?"
I pressed my lips to his, stopping just long enough to say in a low, raspy voice, "Hell yeah, is it working?"
He roared and flipped me on my back. "Oh, it's working!" he rushed out.
"Yeah for me!" I clapped.
Within minutes we were joined, all politeness and tenderness gone, and passion and lust all-consuming. Tudor rolled on his back, forcing me to be on top – his favourite position, his hands full with my br**sts. I controlled every move, and he surrendered willingly to my demands. His breath became uneven as he kept rhythm with our ever-increasing moans, and with one final thrust we bellowed mutual screams of release.
Exhausted, I collapsed on him, and he announced quietly, "Happy birthday, Sunshine."
I worked my hips back and forth, making him groan and grip the headboard. "And here’s to many, many more." I murmured, seductively.
He replied with certainty in his eyes, "Definitely many, many more!" We were no longer talking about my birthday.
He reached up to take my face in his hands and ran his tongue along my bottom lip. "I love you Natasha Munro, so, so much." Kiss. "Thank you for saving me." Kiss.
I jolted back, startled. "What did you say?" I asked softly.
He nodded, assuring me of what he had declared. "You saved me, and for that I'll love you forever."
I pursed my lips and tipped my head, narrowing my eyes. "Are you saying all this because you're still inside me?"
He laughed at my incredulity but then looked out of the corner of his glittering green eyes and sneered. "Maybe?"
I shrieked and slapped his chest. “You pig!"
"I joke, I joke!" he protested, gripping my wrists in his hands.
His face dropped, serious again. "You really did, gorgeous. More than you will ever know."
I lowered myself to an inch from his face and kissed him passionately. He growled in pleasure, flipped me on my stomach and off we went for round two.
Happy Birthday, Tash!
We were dozing, wrapped in each other’s arms, fully sated and I was so damn happy. And that’s when it happened.
Thunderous hammering on my bedroom door broke us from our happy place and Tink, followed by Tate, who was covering his eyes with his hands, burst into the room, hysterical and swearing like a banshee and waving his phone in the air.