And only then did he touch her breast again; little stroking movements, circling round and round the nipple through her shirt until she thought that she would die; and precisely as she thought it he captured the nipple between thumb and forefinger, rubbing it so that it stood even prouder, aching desperately to be freed of the confines of bra and shirt. ‘Luke!’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Luke…’
His fingers never ceased, but he drew his mouth away from hers to look down at her as he touched her, his face starkly unfamiliar with passion, a rigid mask kept only under control by the restraint he was obviously exercising on his own needs.
‘You like it?’ He sounded almost casual.
‘It’s-heaven,’ she breathed, but he shook his headNot heaven. Not yet. Heaven comes later.’ He moved his hand away from her nipple and she made a little moan of protest, but her mouth softened in
to a smile of anticipation as she realised that he was only doing so in order to unbutton her shirt, which he did slowly, degree by teasing degree until her small breasts, encased in a tiny sheer black lace and silk bra, thrust towards him for his delectation.
She didn’t know what caused it, but his face darkened; his eyes like the blackest recesses of hell as he stared down at the flimsy, totally inadequate piece of underwear.
‘What is it?’ she asked him, her question husky, because her lips were swollen and tender from so much kissing.
For answer, he flicked at one nipple in a gesture which was almost casual, though the unsteadiness in his voice belied it. ‘Do you always dress to tanta- lise, baby?’ And then when she made no answer, began to speak again, as if to himself. “I find myself wanting to rip this foolish little garment from your body. Shall I do that?”
But she didn’t want her underwear torn off; not the first time. She wanted his gentleness; his understanding.
‘Don’t,’ she said shakily.
His eyes narrowed as instead he unclipped it at the front, pushing the filmy fragments aside before lowering his head to take one swollen bud into his mouth with the gentleness she had dreamed of, and her head tipped back and she cried out as he made the slowest and most excruciatingly exciting journey from breast to breast, until she realised that she was pushing her hips into his, driven on by some urge she neither knew nor understood.
He moved away then, and she looked up to see that his face was grim as he pulled off his tie and tossed it away. ‘Unbutton my shirt,’ he ordered softly.
She hesitated, momentarily stricken by doubts, and he watched her from between narrowed eyes before briefly bending his head to suckle at her nipple, and Allie felt a sharp surge of pleasure, her doubts forgotten.
‘Do it,’ he urged huskily.
With faltering fingers, she started to undo his shirt, stumbling a little as she reached the last button because it was tucked beneath the belt of his trousers.
‘Take it off,’ he whispered, but she lowered her eyes as she did so. ‘So shy,?’ he queried mockingly.
For answer, she pulled the shirt off and let it flutter to the floor, and laid her head dreamily against his bare chest, running her cheek up and down it, her fingers losing themselves in the dark whorls of hair, just as they’d done so often in her dreams.
He found the side button of her skirt, and then unzipped it with ease, pulling it down past her knees until he could impatiently toss it aside, and she was left wearing nothing but a tiny pair of black silk panties which matched the flimsy bra.
He said something then, something very soft which she would have given her heart to understand, and his hand slid down to the soft skin of her inner thigh, teased her there until she moved so that his fingers would touch her where she most needed to be touched, and she heard him give a soft laugh as his fingers moved inside her panties, his hand at last on her moist, heated flesh, and he bent his head to her ear when he heard her helpless moan of pleasure.
‘You want me, very much?’
But Allie couldn’t even nod; he was working some kind of magic with his hands, sending her out of her mind, so that she didn’t feel like Allie Garfield at that moment, she was being reborn in Luke’s arms and she wondered whether the world would ever be the same place again.
He slid the panties down her legs and threw them off the sofa, while his other hand unbuckled the belt of his trousers, and she heard the zip being drawn down and her heart started beating even more frantically. He moved away to remove the last of his clothing and Allie lay there naked, but not in the least bit shy as she watched the formidable power of him springing free. She’d never seen a man naked before, and yet it felt so right. She al- lowed her eyes to feast themselves on his magnifi- cent frame, on the massively muscular shaft of his thighs; on the narrow hips and the powerful evi- dence of his sex. And when he moved on top of her she revelled in the feel of his naked body on hers, of breast touching breast, belly on belly, thigh against thigh. She sighed on a broken little note of wonder.
He kissed her and touched her and she approached some unimaginably beautiful brink time after time, so that by the time he thrust powerfully into her, she was so ready for him, so at one-that there was none of the imagined pain. Indeed, she seemed to know instinctively what to do, entwining her thighs around his bare back so that each thrust went deeper and deeper, and she found herself thrusting back against each movement of his, until she reached the brink once again. But this time it was different; this time he didn’t hold back, just kept on moving and moving inside her, harder and harder, until she tumbled over, crying out with wonder and relief as the first great wrenching spasm pulled ecstatically at her womb, and then he too uttered a word which sounded almost like a protest before he shuddered helplessly against her, and she locked her arms around him protectively until she felt him finally still inside her.
There was silence for a moment. His heartbeat sounded muffled and heavy as it gradually slowed down to something approaching normality.
Allie nestled her face luxuriously against his neck, lifting her mouth up to plant a lazy kiss there, when he forestalled her by withdrawing himself from her abruptly, his face averted, before getting up off the sofa.
Aware of the flush which had pinkened her neck and of her nakedness, so noticeable now that he had left her, she quickly covered up