no!’ he told her thickly. ‘This isn’t—’
Not wanting to hear what he was obviously going to say, Petra put her fingertips to his lips, silencing him, kissing his face wildly, with fierce, impassioned little kisses as she breathed in his ear, ‘Yes… Yes, it is!’
Removing her fingers, she pressed her mouth to his, her body to his, rubbing herself sensuously against him. Virgin she might be, but that did not mean she didn’t understand what passion was… what wanting him was!
As she slid her hands over his body, helpless to stop herself, she felt him tense and then shudder. His skin felt like hot oiled satin, and Petra knew she could never, ever get enough of the feel of it beneath her hands. She kissed his throat, lingering over the place where his Adam’s apple pressed hard against his skin, stroking it with her tongue, nibbling at his skin, taunting him with her desire and daring him to refuse to share it.
When he didn’t move she curled her fingers in the soft thick hair on his body, tugging wantonly on it and flicking her tongue against the tiny peak of his flat male nipple.
‘Petra, you are a virgin,’ she heard him protesting rawly. ‘I can’t…’
As she abandoned her torment of his throat, and her lips moved down along the line of hair toward his stomach, she could almost hear him grinding his teeth. Her tongue rimmed his flat belly button, her love for him filling her with a sensual bravado that normally would have shocked her. She had never dreamed that the first time she made love she would be the one taking the initiative, making moves so bold and provocative that they shocked her almost as much as they excited her.
‘I don’t want—’ she heard Blaize groan thickly.
But her fingertips were already exploring the taut strength of his arousal, lending her the confidence to whisper daringly, ‘Oh, yes, you do,’ before returning to her task of laving the maleness of his flat belly with her inquisitive tongue.
There was a muscle pulsing there that fascinated and compelled her. Wickedly she traced it with lingering appreciation, so raptly lost in the pleasure of what she was doing that it caught her completely off guard when Blaize suddenly took hold of her, depositing her on the bed and holding her there whilst he looked down at her, his gaze skimming her face and then her body, her breasts, her narrow waist. She saw him frown and looked down at her own flesh, realising that he was staring at the tiny diamond glinting in her belly.
‘Who gave you that?’ she heard him demanding fiercely.
For a few seconds Petra was bemused, and her fingertip touched the diamond in confusion.
‘Who was he, Petra?’ she heard Blaize reiterating savagely—so savagely, in fact, that she was unable to prevent the entirely female thrill of excited pleasure rippling through her. He was jealous! She could tell. For a heartbeat she fantasised about pretending that he had a rival, that another man had looked at her body and laid claim to it, put his badge of possession on it. But her natural honesty reasserted itself.
‘I bought it myself—for myself!’ she told him truthfully. ‘I heard a couple of girls discussing me at a party, saying that I was the type of person who was too pure and naïve to wear anything like this, and so…’ She gave a small dismissive shrug.
‘This is a gift that only a man would give a woman,’ Blaize was insisting, his eyes smokily charcoal, hot with male possession and desire.
‘Not these days,’ Petra contradicted him wryly.
‘Then where else have you adorned yourself?’ Blaize was demanding softly, and his hand moved lower down her body, his head bent over her.
Now it was his turn to torment her, to kiss her with surely far more expertise and deliberate enticement and sensuality than she had done him as he traced a line of kisses from her breastbone right down to her quivering belly.
As she had done to him he rimmed her navel with tiny kisses, and then the tip of his tongue, but then, before Petra could stop him, he tugged delicately on the diamond whilst his hand covered her sex, his thumb slowly probing an entrance between its tightly furled outer covering in a way that made her heart turn over inside her chest whilst the whole of her body turned molten and fluid with arousal.
‘Nowhere else,’ she heard herself whisper, but even as she said them she knew that the words were not needed, that Blaize had discovered for himself that her body possessed no other form of adornment!
Withdrawing slightly, he looked down at her whilst she quivered from head to foot—but not with apprehension or regret.
‘I want you,’ she told him huskily. ‘I want you now, Blaize.’
But as she reached for him he shook his head.
‘Wait!’ he told her, reaching out to open a small cupboard beside the bed.
‘I just hope that whoever planned this as a lovers’ retreat did some proper forward planning,’ Petra heard him mutter.
Bewildered, she waited, trying to peer past his shoulder, and then when she did see what he had been searching for her face coloured self-consciously.
Until now all ‘safe sex’ had meant to her was an expression that applied to other people!
But of course Blaize was more experienced, far more worldly than she was herself, and shakily she admitted that she was thankful that he was being so conscientious!
She even felt a tiny little thrill of excitement, knowing what he was doing, what it was leading up to! And when he was ready and he turned back to her, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her slowly and thoroughly before caressing her body, she shivered in passionate urgency.
She had thought that she knew what wanting him, aching for him felt like! But she had been wrong!
Enshrined in the street lore of her girlhood, the received wisdom of a hundred magazine articles and books, she had carried a certain protective wisdom that ‘first times were not good times’—but she had been wrong about that too!
She hadn’t known just how proactive her own role would be, how proactive she would want it to be as she reached and touched, stretched and invited, as she shuddered in the exquisite indescribable sensation of having him slowly enter her, slowly fill her…
But she knew now.
She hadn’t known either how easily she would find the words she could hear echoing the pace of his deepening thrusts, which told him all that she was feeling and wanting.
But she knew that now too.
Every breath he took as he filled and completed her—against her skin, in her ear, in the thud of his heartbeat against her own, deep inside her body, where it radiated out in golden waves—was the breath of life itself.
And then, just as she thought she had accustomed herself totally to the feel of him, he changed the pace, increasing its intensity, deepening it, letting her feel the strength of its power, letting her see that her body was ready for such intimacy.
And it was!
Mindlessly Petra clung to him, lifting herself against him so that he could go deeper, fuller, stronger, so that the intimacy they were sharing was so intense, so sweetly,
