by Roxanne Carr
Gradually, she became aware that he was stroking her hair, winding the soft curls which framed her face round and round his fingers before smoothing them round her ears. Soon, his fingers ventured in a featherlight caress to the nape of her neck and she shuddered, not with fear this time, but in reaction to the warm chills which ran down her spine.
Of its own accord, Emily's neck arched back and she opened her eyes to find herself caught in his dark, fathomless gaze. Her legs felt curiously weak and she leaned against him, aware for the first time of the hardness of his thighs beneath the innocuous black fabric of his trousers.
Her mind skittered to what might even now be stirring between those thighs and she began to pull away, but Brett held her fast by the nape of her neck, bringing his other hand up to cup her face.
Emily stood, completely still, as he gazed down at her, seeming to study every aspect of her face. He smoothed an errant curl away from her forehead and traced a line from her temple down her cheek to the corner of her mouth with his forefinger. Her bottom lip trembled as he lightly ran his finger over it and she felt an answering flutter low down in her stomach.
'So beautiful,' he whispered softly.
Emily automatically began to demur, but he stopped the self deprecating words from ever being uttered by placing his fingers against her lips.
'Ssh!'
He reached up and untied the scarf which held her hair in place. It tumbled down in a dark cloud against her face, to her shoulders and Brett ran his fingers through it, drawing it back, away from her face.
Emily's eyes widened as she watched the pupils in his dilate and he lowered his head to hers. Her first instinct was to turn her face away, to avoid the inevitable demands of his lips and tongue. Brett caught her small chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently coaxed it round.
He leaned his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes. The tips of their noses touched and his warm breath, wine sweet, caressed her tremulous mouth. Infinitely patient, he waited until the unwanted panic had subsided and Emily relaxed against him. Still he held her chin as he brought his lips to hers.
It was a kiss like no other that Emily had ever experienced. She had braced herself for a hard, demanding onslaught, but it never came. Brett brushed his lips over the fullness of hers so lightly that they tingled, before he planted a tiny, butterfly kiss at the corner of her mouth. Slowly, his eyes still holding hers, he worked his way along her mouth in a series of minute kisses.
Using his thumb, he gently pulled down her lower lip so that the soft, wet flesh inside was exposed. Emily's eyes fluttered to a close as he ran his tongue along the intimate, tender flesh before covering her mouth with his.
Even then, the kiss was gentle, though, strangely, it was not tentative. He seemed to be drawing out the pleasure of his first taste of her, savouring the warm, honeyed sweetness of her mouth while pressing her more tightly against him. Emily's lips parted slightly as he applied the lightest pressure against the forbidding barrier of her teeth and she welcomed the heat of his mouth over hers.
She frowned as he slowly pulled away, her eyes flying open as a rush of cool air came between them. He was looking at her quizzically, silently asking if she wanted to continue. Emily trembled slightly in his arms, aware that her breasts had swollen in their lacy restraint, and that a liquid fire was smouldering in her secret places.
She wanted him to carry on, cursed him for breaking into the sensual thrall in which he had enveloped her. Now she had time to think, the cold, irrational fear curled up from her toes and took hold, beginning to consume her.
A frown passed fleetingly over Brett's dark face before he reclaimed her mouth. Emily resisted him for a few seconds before slipping mercifully back into the realms of sensation. The cool, searching lips were nothing like the rough, snarling mouth of the man who had attacked her. The long, sensitive fingers now playing up and down her spine were as different as they could be from those cruel, hurting hands which had haunted her for so long.
Emily whimpered, deep in her throat and Brett pulled away again, scanning her face with tender, caring eyes. As if reading the fear, reflected in her pupils, he kissed her eyelids closed, covering her face in kisses as he bent her back over his arm, exposing the long white column of her throat.
The whimper turned into a gasp of pleasure as his cool, seeking lips travelled down from her chin to the sensitive hollow at the join of her collar-bone. She felt his tongue dart out and caress the soft skin there before he turned his attention to the line of her jaw. Travelling from one ear to the other, he explored the sensitve skin beneath her jawline with lips and tongue, tickling and tantalising until Emily was desperate for him to return to her mouth.
With a small groan of frustration, she caught his face between her two hands and brought it up to hers. She felt his lips curve into a small smile of satisfaction as she initiated the kiss. This time, it was more urgent. His lips were more demanding on hers, pushing them back against her teeth. Yet instead of frightening her, as it might have mere minutes before, the urgency of the kiss only served to increase the hard core of pleasure building deep in her womb.
She was more than ready for the intrusion of his tongue, tentatively at first, then probing deeper as she drew it in. He tasted of good red wine and rich chocolate and she sucked on him, relishing the echo of the meal they had just shared.
Gradually, Emily became aware that by his holding her more closely against him, she could now feel the evidence of his arousal that he had been careful to conceal from her before. It nudged her thigh, a swollen, demanding animal, independent of its owner. She pulled away abruptly.
'I . . . the music . . . You change the music while I go . . . er . . . while I go to the bathroom.'
She did not give Brett a chance to react, she had rushed through the open bedroom door and into the small en suite bathroom locking the door behind her.
Once inside, she went into autopilot, using the lavatory and flushing it before washing her hands at the little sink. Catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror tiles, she stopped in her tracks. She hardly recognised herself! Her cheeks were flushed, her hair dishelleved. Her hazel eyes looked unnaturally bright, her lips full and red. And this was the effect a kiss could have on her?
Emily stood and stared at her reflection for a few minutes, waiting for her heartbeat to slow. She began to feel ridiculous. Kissing Brett had been wholly unlike anything she had ever experienced before, a delicious, enjoyable experience which she hadn't wanted to end. It was only when she felt the hardness of him, the impossible, masculine size of it . . .
Where was it she had read that size didn't matter, it was what one did with it that mattered? Emily giggled, a trifle hysterically. She was sure that was advice given to the under-endowed, not a generously sized man like Brett!
Emily bit her lip. Perhaps there was some truth in what the magazines said. That other man had used his tool like a battering ram, an instrument of torture. From what she knew of him, she couldn't imagine Brett hurting her. Unless he was a complete Jekyll and Hyde.
She jumped as there was a soft knock at the door.
'Are you all right in there?'
She smiled at the concern in his voice, sorry that she had caused it.
'Yes, I . . . I'll be out in a minute.'
She listened as his footsteps receded before holding her cold hands under the warm flow of water, absorbing the heat.
When she went back into the lounge, Brett was sitting on one of the sofas, his dark head resting against its back, his eyes closed. Emily stood quietly and watched him for a moment. He had taken off the green jumper and loosened his tie. Several crisp, black curls escaped over the open collar of his shirt. Their wine glasses sat, refilled, on the coffee table and another classical CD was playing.
Less inhibited now that his eyes were closed, Emily's gaze roved to the apex of his thighs which were spread casually, bent at the knee. She could see no sign of that hot tumescence which had so
worried her before. Watching him sitting, relaxed and confident on the sofa, Emily felt a mule's kick of need, the like of which she had never felt before.
It startled her to realise that she wanted him. Yet she did not know how to overcome the fears that blighted her desire. Trust. She had to trust him. Emily took a deep breath.
Slowly, so as not to alert him to her presence, she crept across the room until she was standing between his outstretched thighs. She watched with bated breath as he opened his eyes and saw her standing there. He smiled and reached up to grasp both her hands in his.
Emily allowed herself to be pulled onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck automatically to regain her balance. He dipped his head and nuzzled the warm swell of her breasts under the indian cotton blouse, breathing in the woman-scent of her before reaching up and pulling her head down to meet his.
As his mouth fused with hers, Emily felt the unfamiliar warmth spread from the centre of her through her body, causing her arms and legs to grow heavy and her eyelids to droop. She entangled her fingers in his thick, dark hair, clinging on as he dazzled her senses, stroking the soft, sensitive skin of her mouth with the tip of his tongue, drawing out responses she had never dreamed she was capable of.
She barely noticed when his hand edged upwards from where it rested at her waist and began to fondle the underswell of her breasts. As he gently disengaged his mouth from hers, Emily found to her surprise that she was panting lightly, gasping for breath as she sought to bring her racing heart under control.
Brett had unfastened the thin ties at the modesty-preserving neck of her blouse and Emily looked down at herself through half-closed eyes. Against the floral prettiness of the gypsy style top, the creamy swell of her breasts looked shocking. Swollen with passion, they fought against the restraint of the dainty, lacy black bra, on the verge of spilling out over the top.
Emily's first instinct was to reach down, to cover herself, but even as she thought it, Brett's dark head blocked her view and she felt the gentle rasp of his tongue in the dark valley between her breasts. She gasped as he gathered up one trembling globe in his hand and brought it up to meet his lips.
The first touch of his tongue against her hardening nipple sent sharp needles of sensation jabbing through her body, down to her hot, moist centre. Caught between panic and need, Emily groaned, unable to stop herself from thrusting forward, inviting him to enclose the aching tip of her breast with his seeking lips.
And as her straining nipple was drawn into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth, Emily allowed her tightly pressed thighs to relax and fall apart and she released a long, shuddering sigh of surrender.
14
Brett's fingertips worked a tantalisingly slow path from her knee under her long, flowing skirt along the outside of her thigh. Her legs were bare, the skin warm and soft and his fingers glided smoothly across the naked skin.
Emily felt the goosebumps rise on her flesh as he reached the uppermost part of her groin before returning to her knee. This time he worked his way up her inner thigh. With infinite slowness, he raised his head from her breast and sought her mouth as his fingertips reached the uppermost part of her thigh and his hand enveloped her lace-covered mound.
As he squeezed gently, experimentally, Emily opened her eyes and was caught by his intense dark gaze. He held her eye as if gauging her reaction as he slipped his forefinger into the elastic of her briefs and stroked the moist curls within with the back of his finger.
Emily's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening with alarm as he began to deepen the caress. Instantly, he stopped, returning to the gentle stroking movement as he turned the main thrust of his attention to her mouth.
It opened in sweet surrender under his and Emily's eyes fluttered to a close. She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he plundered the secret recesses of her mouth, his fingers curling possessively over the damp curls at the apex of her thighs.
A small sound, half protest, half agreement, escaped her lips as he suddenly removed his hands and mouth, bringing his arms about her, one around her shoulders, the other beneath her knees. She held onto him tightly as, with one sure, graceful movement, he rose, sweeping her up into his arms as if she were weightless.
'Hush,' he whispered against her hair, 'trust me.'
And she did. Leaning her head against the hard pillow of his chest, Emily allowed him to carry her out of the living room and into the bedroom beyond, kicking the door shut behind him. He lay her on the bed, gentling her with kisses as she murmured a half-hearted protest.
The bedroom was dark, lit only by two dim lamps at either side of the bed and by the diffuse light of the full moon which filtered through the uncurtained window. The moonlight illuminated the hard planes of Brett's face, casting eerie shadows across his features as he rose and stood at the end of the bed.
Emily's mouth felt dry as she watched him slowly unbutton his shirt and shrug it off, discarding it carelessly on the floor. Moonbeams silvered his smooth skin as she feasted her eyes on the broad sweep of his shoulders. The cords of his neck were prominent, disappearing into the thick, curly mat of dark hair which covered his pecs and tapered down in a perfect 'V' towards his navel.
His stomach was flat and hard, the tracery of well-toned muscles visible under the taut skin. Emily's eyes followed the line of hair down to where it disappeared into the waistband of his trousers. He was hard, an unmistakable tumescence stretching the fabric. Emily's eyes darted back up to his and she swallowed against the unwelcome spasm of alarm which gripped her.
The expression in his eyes reassured her, for while they were intent and knowing, she could still see the gentleness which was so much a part of him, in their depths. Gentleness and strength – it was a powerful combination. Emily's lips curved slowly into a smile.
She felt she should participate in some way, should perhaps remove her own clothes, but a residue of shyness remained. Besides, she wanted to concentrate on the spectacle of Brett's belt sliding slowly, inexorably through the belt loops before he began to unbutton his fly.
He was wearing boxer shorts underneath, black cotton, which barely contained his masculinity. Dark hair curled on his tightly muscled thighs and Emily's fingers itched to reach out and touch him. Would his body hair be coarse and rough, or silky soft? Still she held back, unsure how to behave, afraid that if she moved the old fears would return with a vengeance and stop her wanting him.
For she did want him. More than anything she could ever remember wanting, she wanted to possess Brett, wanted to feel the beautiful body which was now standing, motionless, in front of her, melding with her own.
She held her breath as he came round to the side of the bed. It dipped under his weight as he sat next to her, leaning on one bent elbow and regarding her for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. She lay, motionless as a rag doll as he began to undress her.
First he removed her blouse, pulling it up over her head and casting it aside. He dispensed nimbly with the inadequate black bra, running the palm of his hand lightly over the hard nubs of her breasts before turning his attention to her skirt. She lifted her hips obligingly as he pulled it down and it went to join the rest of their clothes on the floor.
She was naked now but for the black lace panties. They felt damp between her thighs as Emily squirmed under his scrutiny. Then Brett dipped his head and began to kiss downwards, from her neck. By the time he reached her navel, she knew that she was beautiful.
Every kiss, every movement of his darting tongue convinced her of his desire. Her skin burned in his wake, her limbs trembling with the strength of her reaction to him. She lay motionless, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he caressed the soft, sensitive skin between each of her toes with the tip of his tongue.
Tentatively, she gathered up her own breasts in her hands and was shocked by the rigid swell of her nipples, pressing into her palms. Brett sucked lightly on her big toe and she felt tension knot in her stomach. She wanted
to feel him close to her, wanted to press her female softness against the long, lean length of his body.
'Brett,' she whispered, 'hold me . . . please.'
Her voice sounded hoarse, deep, completely unlike itself as he slid up the bed and took her in his arms. She buried her face in the moist musky depths of his chest and closed her eyes. Her fingers shook as she laid her hand on his chest. His hair was coarse, yet surprisingly soft. One neat, male nipple pressed against her palm and she cautiously rubbed it, pulling her hand away as if stung when it responded by growing hard.
'It's all right,' he murmured against her hair, as if sensing the imminent return of her fears, 'I'm not going to hurt you.'
'Do it now then, Brett, now, quickly, before I change my mind again!'
'Wait . . . there's more, Emily, so much more!'
'Please!' her fingers worked feverishly at the button of his boxer shorts. 'There'll be time afterwards for all the rest!'
'Emily . . .'
'I need to have you inside me! Before my body closes against you . . . Oh!'
Her fingers closed around the hard, silky column of his penis. It stirred slightly against her palm and her wide eyes were drawn to the naked crown. Tentatively, she ran her thumb across the tip, surprised and delighted to find the skin there velvet soft, newborn.
Brett's breathing sounded shallower and she flicked her eyes upwards, gauging his reaction. He was regarding her through narrowed eyes and there was a tension about the way he held his jaw which gave her a little thrill of power.
It had to be now. Even while she lusted after him, she could feel the tiny, insidious tendrils of fear curling in her stomach, reaching out and invading every part of her. Aware that she must seem desperate, she drew him closer to her, rubbing the tip of him against her bare thigh as she lay back on the pillows.
