His strong hands gripped the back of her thighs. There was no need for him to tug them apart, she would've opened them herself if he'd only just waited. But, she never was one to be bothered by a passionate man who took control. Not when she was desperate to feel his touch, to feel him. Instead of taking her right there as she expected, Antonin dropped down into one of the chairs, burying his face between her thighs. There had been no teasing, no delightful torture before he sought out his goal. No, there wasn't time for that. He had a purpose. One flick of his tongue drew a scream out of his wife. Spurred on by the sound, he increased the pressure, the intensity.