‘I want you, but I like to prolong things a little. If you get too worked up you can always play with yourself while you’re talking. That excites me like hell.’
Deborah shook her head. ‘I won’t.’
Pavin yawned. ‘Then I guess it’s time for sleep. It’s been one hell of a long day.’
‘Look, this is stupid. We both want to make love, so why have I got to talk about Mick at a moment like this?’ Deborah was utterly bewildered.
‘I like hearing about the way other people make love. That’s part of the pleasure of these holidays, I get to hear and see everything. You like it too, otherwise you wouldn’t have got so worked up watching Celia and Flora. Come on, Debbie. Tell me about Mick. Where did he touch you first?’
Deborah couldn’t remember ever having felt such overwhelming desire for any man before this, and this made her decide to go along with him. After all, he was right. She had enjoyed watching the two women being pleasured earlier, and perhaps she’d even enjoy this if she did it the right way.
‘Do you mean in bed, or out of it?’ she asked with a slight smile.
Pavin’s blue eyes gleamed in appreciation. ‘We’ll deal with in bed tonight, save the more exotic stuff for another time.’
‘He always began by running a hand over one of my breasts,’ she said quietly, her mind going back to the early days when it had been good between her and Mick.
‘You’ll have to speak up, I can hardly hear you. How hard did he touch you? Lightly, like a feather, or more firmly?’
‘Quite hard, all his touches were hard.’
Pavin took off his bow tie and began to undo the buttons on his dress shirt. ‘Show me how hard he touched you.’
Deborah found that she couldn’t take her eyes away from Pavin’s, slowly her right hand moved and she let the fingers trail down over her left breast.
‘Go on,’ said Pavin huskily. ‘Show me what he’d do next.’
‘Then he’d run his hand back up again, like this,’ Deborah told him, watching the excitement growing in the American’s eyes. ‘When he got to the nipple he’d take it between two fingers and pinch it until it stood erect.’
‘Was that good?’
‘Not always. Sometimes I wished that he’d be more gentle.’
‘Didn’t you ask him?’
She shook her head. ‘You couldn’t ever criticise Mick. He had a very short temper and I think he suffered from low self-esteem.’
Pavin chuckled. ‘More likely he was conceited. Do it then, pinch your nipple the way he used to.’
Deborah rolled the tight tip of her burgeoning nipple between two fingers and immediately it stood up proudly from the expanding areola while her entire breast began to grow.
‘Open your legs wide,’ Pavin urged her. ‘I want to see your excitement increasing as you talk. That’s right. Now, what used to happen next?’
‘He’d slide the palm of his hand down over my stomach and between my legs.’ Her voice dropped as she spoke because she knew from the look in Pavin’s eyes that she was expected to do this, but she wanted him to do it for her.
Pavin merely continued to watch, his eyes narrowing as she tentatively slid her hand down her body and across the pubic mound until it was between her widespread thighs. ‘Now show me how he used his fingers on you.’
‘Please Pavin, I don’t want to. He wasn’t that good at it. Won’t you do it for me? I need to be touched the way you touch me.’
Pavin, his dress shirt now open to show his firmly muscled torso, rose from the chaise longue, but only to remove his socks and trousers, then he sat down again.
‘You must have liked it. You were with him for four years. Show me.’
Deborah rubbed her fingers in firm circular motions across her entire vulva, and as the heavy friction caused the already aroused flesh to spark with flickers of desire and she started to tighten in anticipation of a climax, she remembered that sometimes it had been good. There had been days when she’d wanted Mick’s hands to be almost rough and instant gratification had been her aim. It was only later, when they were used to each other and he refused to try variations, that she’d gone off their sex life.
Pavin saw her mouth open slightly and between her legs he could see tell-tale beads of moisture signifying her increasing arousal. ‘Keep going.’ His voice was deep, his own breathing quickening at the sight of this long-legged blonde bringing herself to a climax as she remembered her previous lover. ‘Doesn’t it feel good?’
‘Yes!’ she gasped.
‘You see, I told you it must have been. Tell me when you’re nearly there. I want you to show me how he triggered your climax.’
The tightness of sexual tension was spreading all around Deborah’s vulva. Her thighs were trembling, her belly rounded and taut and the heat generated by her hand’s movements was glorious.
‘I’m nearly there!’ she gasped. ‘This is when he used to …’
Pavin moved very fast. One moment Deborah’s hand was between her widespread thighs and the next he’d grasped it in one of his own and then both her hands were pinned up behind her head, one of his legs was between hers and she was left on the very brink of her orgasm but unable to move.
‘No, Pavin!’ she wailed. ‘That’s not fair! Do it for me then, please! I’ve been waiting all evening for this. I don’t think it’s funny.’
‘It isn’t meant to be funny,’ he told her, his face above hers. ‘You didn’t really think I was going to let you come imagining some other man’s hands on you, did you? I just wanted to see you arouse yourself, and that seemed the best way.’
At some point he’d taken off the last of his clothes and his huge, naked body was balanced above her as he stared down into her eyes that were burning with sexual need. Between her legs a dreadful, bitter-sweet ache was suffusing Deborah and she tried to move against Pavin’s thigh to ease it, but he shifted his body so that clitoral contact was impossible.
‘Just wait a few more minutes, honey,’ he whispered in her ear as she twisted and turned trying to free her hands from his grip. ‘I’m going to give you one of the best orgasms of your life, I promise. Turn on your stomach.’
As he spoke he released her hands and then flipped her over before she could protest. He kept her legs spread widely apart and inserted one of the numerous pillows beneath her hips. Deborah, whose swollen breasts and abdomen were even grateful for the contact with the satin sheets of the bed, wondered anxiously what was going to happen next.
Pavin knelt between her parted legs and ran one hand slowly down her spine, tracing the outline of each of the cheeks of her smooth bottom before carrying on down the backs of each of her thighs in turn. At the back of her knees he swirled his fingers in tiny circles and saw her calf muscles tighten with the increasing sexual tension.
Deborah’s whole body was screaming out for satisfaction. Mentally and physically she had been aroused to the point of no return over the past few hours and yet still satisfaction was being withheld. She felt one of Pavin’s fingers slide up her love channels until he could insert the tip into her vaginal opening. Her internal muscles contracted fiercely about it, attempting to use it as a substitute for his penis but he bent his head to nuzzle the nape of her neck and once more urged her to wait just a little longer.
Then, as she lay trembling with thwarted desire, he let three fingers slide palm down inside her so that they were touching the front wall of her vagina, that was facing the bed. The touch was so welcome to her starved senses that she moaned in gratitude.
‘Now move your pelvis, Debbie,’ he urged her. ‘Try rotating it and rolling from side to side. I want to see what suits you best.’
She obeyed him, and at one point, just as she was halfway through a rotation, a delicious sensation swept through her whole body and she groaned aloud. Her reaction encouraged Pavin to increase the pressure on this particular spot, and as he felt her juices increasing around his fingers he eased his other hand beneath her body just above her
pubic hair and pressed there as well.
The combination of the fingers pressing on her front vaginal wall from the inside and outside at once drove Deborah into delirium. She cried out ‘Yes! Yes!’ and the hot flooding feeling began to travel down her legs and up through her belly as well as all through her swollen vulva and yet she still hadn’t climaxed. The unbelievably intense sensations of sexual excitement simply continued to climb and she began to move her lower body around without even realising it, wanting the feeling to increase and perversely to end as well.
Pavin’s self-control was stretched to its limit by her passionate response and now he let the fingers that were inside her slip out so that he could insert the tip of his penis, while at the same time the hand that had been pressing down above her pubic bone moved lower and as he rotated his blood-suffused organ just inside her vaginal opening he managed to stimulate her clitoris by manipulating its covering hood with his fingers. It was this that finally gave the frenzied, swollen, aching yet pleasure-soaked Deborah her release.
She felt the moment of almost unbearable tightness that preceded her climaxes and then she seemed to burst and every inch of her was racked by muscular contractions that had her heaving and twisting in uncontrollable spasms beneath Pavin as he too reached his long-delayed climax within her tight pulsating warmth.
Even after the peak of her orgasm had passed, Deborah continued to twitch and squirm on the bed, her body totally out of her control as it recovered from the intense experiences of the entire day.
Pavin, who as soon as he had finished had withdrawn and was now lying next to her on the bed, laid a protective arm across her back and murmured soothingly until finally she was able to rest.
‘Do you know what I’d like to do now?’ he asked her. Deborah shook her head, too exhausted to speak. ‘I’d like to bring you to another climax. I’d like to see you thrashing around again, you look so incredible when you finally lose control.’
‘I couldn’t,’ moaned Deborah in mock-horror.
‘Sure you could, but not tonight. It’s something you’ll learn though before the holiday’s over.’
‘I thought you were never going to let me come,’ she whispered as she drifted off to sleep.
He smiled against her hair. ‘Wasn’t it worth the wait?’
‘Yes,’ she agreed sleepily. ‘In the end it was.’
‘That’s all that matters then.’
Very soon they both slept, Deborah curled up against Pavin’s chest while his arms stayed around her for most of the night.
‘Coffee, sir,’ said a young girl’s voice lightly.
Deborah opened her eyes and realised that she was lying naked in Pavin’s arms without even a sheet over her while a maid of about nineteen put a tray of coffee down on the chaise longue, where Pavin had watched her arousing herself a few hours earlier.
Pavin opened one eye, grunted and closed it again. The maid then drew back the curtains, smiled shyly at Deborah and asked her if she wanted a bath run.
‘That would be great!’ enthused Deborah, trying to pull a sheet discreetly over herself. Then she realised that she had to climb over the bed to reach the coffee and hadn’t any nightclothes near at hand so she had to wait for the maid to disappear into the bathroom before she could get herself a welcome cup.
‘One for you, Pavin?’ she asked brightly.
He groaned again. ‘I’m not a morning person, honey. You go ahead. I’ll probably give breakfast a miss. You’ll find everyone in the main hall. After you’ve eaten why not go for a walk, explore the island a bit? I’ll join you later.’ With that he closed his eyes, turned on his side and went back to sleep.
Deborah finished the coffee, deliciously hot and strong with cream and sugar, and then washed in the deep, scented bath the maid had run before pulling on a pair of light denim jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt in coral pink. That combined with a pair of canvas shoes on her feet seemed about right for touring the island.
Both Tansy and Paul Woolcott were already eating when Deborah arrived for breakfast. So too was Celia, the winner of the previous night’s water game, but there was no sign of Flora nor of Brian or Elizabeth Forster. Richard Ford was there though and she was astonished to find herself wondering if the dark curly hair that covered his head also covered his body. She had never before considered men in such an intimate way and wondered what was happening to her on Pavinsay. Whatever it was, it seemed to agree with her.
‘You look well rested!’ laughed Tansy. ‘It’s not how Pavin’s women usually look in the mornings.’
Celia glanced at Deborah. ‘Do you want to come for a walk when you’ve eaten? I usually take some kind of exercise after breakfast and you really ought to see the place on a lovely morning like this.’
Deborah was surprised. Celia hadn’t seemed particularly friendly the previous day, but she smiled her thanks. ‘That would be great. Pavin suggested I had a look round. He doesn’t want to get out of bed yet!’
‘Even when he does he’ll be closeted with my husband. Believe me, it’s never all play and no work with Pavin, not even on these holidays as Martin’s learnt to his cost.’
‘Come off it,’ said Tansy. ‘The most Martin does is go through a couple of balance sheets in the course of a fortnight. That’s not as likely to kill him as a couple of nights with you!’
Everyone laughed except for Celia who turned away from Tansy. ‘At least I don’t have to resort to surgery to keep my husband interested,’ she said loudly and then nibbled daintily on a piece of toast.
Deborah, after examining the contents of the various silver-covered dishes that were laid out along the side tables, settled on scrambled eggs, bacon and tomatoes, plus more of the strong coffee that she’d enjoyed in bed. After that she had two slices of wholemeal toast and dark, bitter marmalade.
‘Something’s given you an appetite,’ remarked Celia. ‘Ready to go now?’
They walked out of the main castle entrance, along the gravel drive that curved between two immaculate expanses of lush green lawn, and then started along a path leading down towards the sea.
‘If you want to go right round the island it’s about a mile,’ said Celia. ‘But there are plenty of shorter walks, and it’s probably best if I show you some of the things close to the castle today. You can explore further afield another time. Not that there’s very far to go. The whole place isn’t more than half a mile across. It’s really just a castle with very big grounds!’
‘It’s magnificent!’ exclaimed Deborah as they followed the path down the gradual incline. ‘What are those birds?’
Celia shrugged. ‘No idea, honey. Cormorants or shags I guess. Martin’s the expert on wildlife. He’ll spend hours taking pictures of seals in the bay and stuff like that. I just like the fresh air.’
Deborah looked down at the cove below them. The sand was very white and the cliffs around it brick-red in colour. Most of the hills on the island were more like large slopes and the grass wasn’t lush but a kind of browny-green scrub.
‘I can’t see any trees!’ she exclaimed.
‘Kinda weird that, I know,’ agreed Celia. ‘My theory is that Pavin sneezed one day and they all blew down! Probably Martin can give you a real boring explanation about geographical conditions, but who the hell cares? If you’re into history though you must visit one of the cairns sometime. They’re these underground burial places with low passageways, and if you go with the right guy it can be some experience!’
Despite talking, Celia was walking at a fast pace and Deborah had a job to keep up with her. Eventually Celia slowed. ‘Sorry, I’m rushing you. Guess you get out of shape working in London. I spend most of my time in Florida where you just work out, go to beauty salons and eat salads. Means I’m up to these holidays though!’
‘Are you all from America, apart from Martin?’ asked Deborah as they descended the last few feet to the sandy cove.
‘No, Flora is the genuine Scottish article. I mean with a name like Flora Stew
art she’d have to be, wouldn’t she? I think Elizabeth is half Portuguese, but I’m not sure. Brian’s kind of cagey about where they met. As for me, I was born in Wales! I went to America on a walking holiday as soon as I was old enough to leave and ended up in Florida.’
‘How did you meet Martin then?’
‘I met him right here. I worked for Pavin as a temp a few years back. We sort of clicked, he asked me on one of these holidays and that’s where I met Martin. His British reserve drove me insane with lust. Now it just drives me insane!’
They reached the beach and both women took off their shoes. ‘I didn’t really know exactly what kind of holiday this was going to be,’ confessed Deborah.
‘Pavin prefers it that way,’ laughed Celia. ‘He likes to see how people react in strange situations. You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?’
Deborah nodded. ‘Yes, although if I’d known in advance I don’t suppose I’d have come.’
‘That’s the whole point. You’re meant to discover another side to yourself on Pavinsay.’
‘But doesn’t anyone mind sharing their partners? Surely Elizabeth must have hated knowing her husband was with you last night?’
Celia turned to face the taller blonde woman. ‘Sweetie, you can be quite sure someone was taking very good care of little Lizzie while Brian and I were busy in the dungeon. That’s how it works here. No one gets left out.’
‘And no one ever minds what’s happening?’
Celia gazed out over the now calm sea. ‘Maybe they do, but they’re wise enough not to say because if you complain you don’t get asked again and believe me the pluses outweigh the minuses. All the men here are very different which is fun, and most of us keep quiet just for a chance to spend a few hours with Pavin.’
Deborah tried not to show her shock. ‘Pavin joins in with everyone too?’
Celia laughed. ‘It’s his party, he can do whatever he likes and yes, that means joining in. Why? Did you think he’d only make love to you while you were here?’
‘I hadn’t thought about it,’ lied Deborah.
Deborah's Discovery Page 8
