A shyer woman might have blushed furiously just making that journey from kitchen to bedroom. But not Marian. Not with this man. No one had ever made someone feel more beautiful than Robin did to her. With him, she truly believed she was something to be desired and she carried herself with pride as he shut the bedroom door behind them.
And then his lips were against her neck and her eyes closed, taking a few moments to simply enjoy the blissful feel of his mouth on her skin. The touch was waking up every sense in her and she let her hands wander, tracing the lines of his back, over his shoulders, and down his chest to the dip of his stomach. His denims were already loosened from the button she'd unfastened and it wasn't difficult for her to give that gentle push that moved them past his hips. Her hands then continued their journey, slipping past the waistband of the shorts he wore, finding what she'd been searching for easily enough. His desire for her was as evident as her own was, and a smirk played on her lips. She could do this. He was hers, after all.
"Tell me," she murmured softly in his ear. "Tell me what you want."