Get up on the couch,’ Casey rapped impatiently, bringing his honourable thoughts to an abrupt close.
She plunged her arms up to the elbows in a tub of cream. She could do this. She would do this. Timid virgin or not, she had confidence. She just needed to dig deep and prove it—to herself and to Raffa. To herself mostly, Casey admitted silently.
‘Don’t forget to warm your hands up first,’ Raffa told her dryly, moving his face to one side as he eased his position on the couch.
‘Don’t worry—I will.’ They were warm already—very warm—and so was she.
She hadn’t looked at Raffa properly yet. She needed a moment to prepare before doing that. She glanced at his towel on the floor, and checked her own towel was securely fastened.
Casey’s breath caught in her throat as she took her first look at Raffa’s naked form.
‘Steady,’ he warned as she slapped two handfuls of goo on his back. ‘Half of that landed on the floor.’
Possibly because she had her eyes tightly shut. ‘I read somewhere that a firm touch is needed,’ she defended, wondering if the spasms of delight she was experiencing would ever stop racing from her fingertips to her arms, from where they spread outwards to every part of her body.
‘Firm, but not slapdash,’ Raffa agreed huskily. ‘Would you like me to show you how?’
Rippling with muscle, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him anywhere—which was quite a bit different from her own well-upholstered form. ‘No, that’s all right—I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it.’
‘Rub the cream in well, but catch any dribbles on the towel first.’
‘Dribbles?’
‘Of cream?’
‘On my towel?’
‘On any towel…’
Leaning over him, she managed to hold onto the towel with her elbow and dab at him with the hem at the same time.
‘Don’t be so prissy—rub it in.’
Casey stared at Raffa’s sculpted shoulders before tentatively resting her fingertips against them.
‘Now, rub.’
Her whole body fired in response to the warm, firm flesh beneath her hands.
‘Use more pressure…’
She leaned against the couch, craving contact with Raffa in places that had never felt this much action before.
‘More…’
More? How could there be more than this? She felt swollen in certain places, short of breath, and hungry for Raffa in a way that made her throat tight and everything else rather too loose.
‘More pressure, Casey…’
‘I’m using all I can.’
‘Pathetic,’ he growled. ‘Try harder.’
Any harder than this and she’d explode. But she had to try, Casey told herself firmly. She couldn’t back down now. She explored the wide expanse of Raffa’s back with infinite care and absolute slowness. If she was going to do this, she was going to enjoy every minute of it. Closing her eyes, she used a little more pressure, and was rewarded by Raffa’s sigh.
‘Nice?’ she murmured.
‘Don’t distract yourself by talking—I’ll tell you when to stop.’
‘Okay…’ But he felt so good, so warm and full of energy; she wanted to be a lot closer to him than this. She leaned over, pressing herself against Raffa’s side, longing to ease the pressure inside her.
‘That’s much better,’ he said, with the suggestion of a smile in his voice. ‘I think you’re getting the hang of it at last…’
His face was deadpan, and his deep voice was muffled against his powerful forearms as she worked on his back, but his sigh of pleasure gave him away—he was enjoying this as much as she was. She took a detour over his bulging biceps and on down each of his forearms, which gave her the opportunity to press her chest against his back…
‘Much, much better,’ he husked contentedly.
She was enjoying herself so much by this time she wasn’t prepared when he turned on his back. ‘Now feel me,’ he said.
‘Feel you?’ She gulped.
‘My chest… Feel it… Explore, Casey.’
She shut her eyes and started tentatively to do as Raffa had suggested. But as she explored she grew bolder. He was magnificent. Raffa was a magnificent fighting machine…or a lover.
‘And don’t forget there’s more to me than my chest…’
She was already incredibly aware of that. Luckily her towel was still in place to hide her arousal, though the friction of it against her painfully erect nipples was almost unbearable.
She had to brazen it out. She had to be brave enough to bear the pleasure-pain of pure arousal and distract herself by tracing the hard band of muscle above Raffa’s waist.
Could anything be more delicious that that? It was too soon to find out, and so she turned her attention to his feet. She’d work her way up. Well, part-way up. Two could play at Raffa’s game. He was not just acquainting her with his body, he was teasing her—and enjoying it.
He had extremely sexy feet. Moving on from there, she tested rock-hard calves, before moving on to the firmest thighs she had ever seen. Not that she had seen many, of course…
‘That’s enough,’ Raffa said, sitting up.
‘How did I do?’
‘Better than I imagined,’ he told her dryly. Swooping down, he picked up his towel. ‘And now it’s your turn.’
‘But…’
‘No buts—other than the naked kind. Climb up.’
‘On the bed?’
‘That’s the general idea—though don’t you prefer to call it a treatment couch?’ His voice was mocking.
She was supposed to climb up and lie naked on a treatment couch still warm from Raffa’s own naked body?
That’s the one, Casey told her timid self, clutching her towel tightly around her.
‘Without the towel?’
‘Without. How am I supposed to give you a massage if you’re wearing a towel?’
‘Er…’
‘Exactly. So, please lose it.’
Closing her eyes tightly,
