find out they weren’t just listening to music. Like she was turned on when she imagined being pinned down, helpless, as the man she’d always loved forced her to submit to his every desire. Or something like that. Shit, books and films had a lot to answer for. She touched his finger with the tip of her tongue. He was staring straight into her eyes, his own so dark she couldn’t tell where his pupils ended and the colour began.
‘Do you want me?’ He eased his thumb from her mouth, squeezed her lower lip between thumb and finger, gently tugging and by the way it was affecting her swollen breasts he could well have been tugging her nipples. He let his hand drift down to rest lightly on her chin.
‘I don’t know you.’ Her throat had tightened with anticipation for what would come next, her shoulders tense.
‘But you want me, in the same way I want you.’
He slid his hand under her hair, ran one finger from the base of her neck up to where it met her skull, pressing gently into the soft indent and she couldn’t stop the shudder that travelled down her spine pooling at the base. That was good. His thumb circled, small persistent needy circles that sent a pulse between her legs. She gasped. Now could be the time to say please, or thank you. Oh that was very good, he seemed to have found the spot that channelled right down to orgasm central and if he stopped now she might have to scream.
‘Have you ever had sex with a stranger?’ And that husky voice was the icing on the cake, or should that be the cherry?
He’d said something. What was it? Oh, yeah. Sex, stranger. ‘I make love, not have sex.’ She could barely hear her own whisper, she swayed slightly into the pressure of his hand. ‘And nobody I’d call strange.’ Slightly wacky, yes, but not strange. She wanted to reach out and hold him, but she just knew it would break the spell. He’d stop. She didn’t want him to stop.
‘Just having sex can be good.’
She shivered under his touch as his thumb ran along the side of her neck, resting over her pulse point. His large, warm hand cradled her head, her jaw in the palm of his hand. If this was sex then fine, bring it on.
‘But it’s not—’
‘You’ve made love to people you’re not in love with.’
It didn’t seem to be a question, and right now her vocal chords didn’t want to play anyway.
‘That’s comfort, not a real connection, and what happens when you can’t be bothered to be a comfort blanket any longer?’ His fingers were still doing their thing and her brain seemed to be slowly melting, which gave him an unfair advantage.
‘But I—’
‘Close your eyes.’ It must have been surprise, no way would she have just shut them otherwise. His fingers slowly moved down to her throat, with the lightest of touch. ‘Clasp your hands behind your back.’ Hell, she did that too. But if she didn’t she couldn’t find out what came next, and all of a sudden she wanted to know.
His breath was warm against her skin, he must be close, so close. She had to touch him, she mustn’t touch him. The nip of his teeth on her neck made her jump, then whimper. His finger was tracing down her chest, down towards her breasts and her nipples started to prickle. She just had to reach out, hold him, or something.
‘Don’t move.’ Shit, all she’d done was think about it, unclasped her hands just a touch, but that liquid chocolate voice in her ear made her freeze and her stomach tighten.
His finger traced a path around her breast, slowly, tantalisingly moving in with each circle, then outwards, never touching the hard nub. She needed him to touch her nipples, or suck them, or anything… Any second now she really was going to scream. He moved on to the other breast and she could hear her breath coming in short gasps, feel her heart pounding so heavily her whole body seemed to be shaking with it. She bit her lip. She wasn’t going to beg.
His warm hands moved down, circling her waist, firm fingers pressing down over her stomach, lower, lower. He was holding her hips now, and those probing thumbs were circling her stomach just above her mound. Firm, tantalising. She moaned as she felt her juices pool in her knickers whimpering as she clenched her thighs together, feeling the slow pulsing in her pussy build. Oh, God she was going to come. She couldn’t stop now, she couldn’t. Her knees were trembling, she tightened her stomach muscles, felt the delicious throb intensify.
And he stopped. Let go. Cold air replaced where his hands had been.
‘Wha–?’ For a split second she was dazed, still numbed by the soft, sensual throbbing that had been bubbling its way through her body. She stared at him, confused, and he stared straight back, from a safe distance.
‘Demonstration over.’
‘Demonstration?’ The calm words hit her hard, her muscles contracting for a far different reason from a few minutes ago. The bastard. He’d shoved his hands back in his pockets, partly to hide his hard-on, and his face was devoid of expression. So, he hadn’t been pulled to her like she had to him, this wasn’t about the way her body reacted when he came within ten yards of her. This was business, pure and simple, showing her what a fucking clever sex quack he was. And she’d just started thinking he was nice. So much for her being a good judge of character.
‘Yup. That’s what we do here, Kezia.’
She shook her head slowly, fighting the burn of tears that was building up in her eyes. Sexual frustration and emotions warred in her body. ‘You sad bastard.’ She took a step backwards, back against the wall, her sweating palms against the cold plaster. He’d got under her skin, made her give up control, just to prove his point that love and lust were a million miles apart.
He didn’t move as she stared at him, didn’t flinch, but the empty look in his eyes made her want to grab him, shake him, scream at him until he snapped out of it. It had felt real, he’d felt real, warm, like he wanted to create something between them.
An illusion and a control freak.
One tear spilled and she could feel the damp heat trickle down her cheek, taste the salt in her mouth. Not bothering to wipe the tear or say a word she finally found the power to move her feet, push past him.
‘Kezia.’ But she didn’t pause, didn’t turn, she just kept on at the same steady pace across the yard, forcing herself not to run, until she couldn’t hear him or the horses any more.
Kezia kicked off her boots in the kitchen, hardly pausing, then marched straight up the stairs, banging the door shut and falling on to the bed.
What the hell was wrong with her? Why had she let him get under her skin? Some stupid fantasy about domineering men and wild passionate sex that a stupid corner of her mind had decided was about to come true. Except she didn’t want a domineering man. And definitely not one who wouldn’t even let her touch him.
She stared up at the ceiling. He’d barely touched her breasts and he definitely hadn’t touched the place she wanted him to most. He hadn’t kissed her, he hadn’t talked dirty to her and he hadn’t fucked her. He’d just breathed in her ear and stroked her. And she’d just had what she was pretty sure could have turned into one hell of an orgasm, if he hadn’t stopped it before it had barely begun. That feeling in her belly, the gentle pulsing between her thighs had been slowly unravelling something deep inside, and she’d wanted the tremble spreading through her body to go on forever. And now, she was just left with a dull ache that needed satisfying.
