His fingers coaxed little whimpered moans from her, as they kept moving. Almost of their own volition her hips moved. At least while his fingers moved against her. She kind of felt like a teenager again, being introduced to the joys of being without sexual inhabitations. But then his fingers left her. She yanked her eyes up from where he had been touching her, to his face.
Ah. She got it in more seconds than she'd willingly admit, when his hand guided hers over the buttons at his hip. When the ones she'd been assigned to were undone, she gave a little tug to the fabric. Hoping to encourage their dropping a little faster.
Maryanne caught her lower lip between her teeth as she watched as they did. Briefly wondering if the buttons she spotted at his knees would be a problem. Surely that would be a good reason to slide from the table's edge and drop to her knees. Clothed you can only really guess at these things, but now she knew, beyond a doubt, why he had so many children. Or at least one of the reasons. Her eyes traveled back up to his, slowly. There were three choices ahead of her. Climb on and ride him like the stallion he was, lead him over to where her coat lay sprawled over the floor, lay him down and make sweet sweet love to him, or go to her knees and worship.