“You feel so good,” he said as though bemused by his own feelings with her.
“You do, too,” she answered, unhesitant about stating what was true for her.
“I want to feel all of you, Erin.” His hands moved to the buckle of her belt.
“Mind if I undress you out here?”
“No, I don’t mind.” She wanted to feel his hands on her, all over her. Her mind was sure his touch would be magic, but her body wanted him to be naked, too, naked to the night in a dark, primitive world of absolute togetherness.”As long as you don’t mind me taking your clothes off, as well.” He laughed, a deep throaty sound of pleasure that made her pulse race with excitement. She’d had sex many times before; out of curiosity, out of loneliness, out of a need to hold onto a relationship, hoping that the physical intimacy would forge a deeper bond, though it never had. Too much else always got in the way—degrees of separation becoming bigger and bigger, leaving her alone again.
Tonight was different. Her whole being was bubbling with anticipation. There was no history of before, no expectation of after. The only reality was here and now and she’d never felt so brilliantly alive.
He undid her belt, slid it away from her waist. She heard the buckle clank onto the tiled floor of the balcony. He ran featherlight fingers up her arms, over her shoulders, raising a host of goose-bumps on her skin.
“Cold?” he asked, parting the long tresses of her hair to bare the halter neck-strap.
“No. I think madly stimulated covers it.”
He laughed again—happy laughter that made her heart dance with exhilaration.
“Same for me,” he said, kissing her nape as he separated the straps that had held her bodice in place.
Her scalp tingled. The heat from his mouth burned a trail right from her head to her toes. The top of her dress slid down, leaving her breasts naked to the cooling breeze from the sea. Her nipples tightened into longer, harder protrusions, sensitive to the sudden freedom and change of temperature. Then the zipper at the back of her waist was released and her skirt slithered down to her feet. Thumbs hooked into the G-string, which was the only other garment she wore. It was lowered in a quick swoop.
“Lift your feet, one at a time, Erin.”
She did as she was told, listening to the rustle of her clothes being swept out of the way. He did not remove her sandals. It was unbelievably erotic, standing in strappy high-heels while his fingers circled her fine-boned ankles, then drifted upwards, caressing her calves, gently rubbing the hollow behind her knees, stroking her thighs, hands cupping and gently squeezing the soft roundness of her buttocks, then gliding around the curve of her hips to spread across her stomach, fingers fanning back and forth over the sensitive area beneath her hip-bones.
Her heart was not dancing anymore. It was a wildly thumping drum. Her mind was so tightly focussed on his touch, she barely remembered to breathe, only releasing and scooping in air when her chest threatened to burst. Every muscle in her body was quivering from a sensory overload.
Her breasts seemed to be swelling, yearning for his hands to be on them. Then they were, possessively encasing them, the hard nipples trapped between fingers that used a rolling friction to excite them into even more prominence.
The desire to feel him in the same way surged over her enthralment with his touch. She grasped his hands and pulled them down, took a deep breath to fire herself up for action and swivelled around to face him.
“You, now,” she said insistently.
He looked startled, frowning slightly, maybe not liking the abrupt interruption to his taking pleasure in her body. Erin’s stomach contracted in nervous apprehension. Had she broken the magic spell of the night? Spoiled what could have been?
Relief poured through her as his expression cleared, his eyes lighting with amused understanding, a wide grin assuring her of acceptance.”Control is yours, Erin. Do what you want with it.”
Control? The realisation flashed through her mind that he was remembering what she’d said over dinner…I will not give control of my life to someone else. But she had tonight, letting him take over, submitting to his lead, trusting him…
Why?
Because it felt right to be with him.
And he was proving it was right by putting himself in her hands. He might stride across his own world with all the self-assurance of a giant, but he was also a giver, and big enough for his male ego not to be threatened by anything she did. He was saying, go for it.
An exultant joy raced through Erin. He was giving her complete freedom to do whatever she wanted with him.”Okay…” A heady sense of power beamed through her grin back at him.”Your princess commands you not to move unless she says so.” He laughed—sparkling delight in her picking up the fantasy he had initiated.
“You are to watch the night while you feel my touch,” she went on, wanting him to experience the same sensory pleasure he had given her.
“I shal pretend I’m on guard duty,” he said, lifting his head to gaze steadily out to sea, a smile still quirking the corners of his mouth.
“Yes. Like the Beefeaters at Buckingham Palace.”
“Have you been to Buckingham Palace ?”
“You mustn’t talk, Peter. Just focus on feeling.”
She started unbuttoning his shirt, lightly running her fingernails down the gap of bared skin from button to button. He remained silent, except for the slight hissing sound of quickly sucked in breath. She smiled, knowing he was excited, and probably buzzing with anticipation of her next move.
Being passive could not be natural to a man like him, but it did force his mind off action and onto response, which would surely heighten every sensation she stirred with her touch. She wanted this night to be as different for him as it was for her—a wonderful memory to be cherished in the secret archives of their minds, something separate from their real lives but so intensely real it would never be forgotten.
The shirt slid easily off his shoulders and down his arms—such broad shoulders and powerfully muscled arms. And his chest was magnificently male. Satin-smooth, taut skin—marvel ous to touch, feeling the strength of the man pulsing underneath it. Her hands glided over its living warmth, glorying in the freedom to roam over his splendid body. Her fingers tugged teasingly on his nipples, drawing them into hard nubs. The impulse to kiss them, suck on them, drove her straight into doing it.
She heard him growl and his hands were suddenly raking through her hair, holding her fiercely to him. A wild elation at his need for her burst through her mind, but she broke his grip, wanting to carry through what she’d set out to do.