Her thighs brushed against his. A charge careered through him, so powerful he could feel it singe his blood.
He wanted to lose himself again in the wonders of her—the woman who made his senses come alive. The only woman capable of making him forget himself.
Her eyes had transformed into liquid. Her lips parted.
And then there was no more staring.
There was no slow build and no tentative caresses either. They simply fused into one, plundering each other’s mouths with scorching fierceness.
Her fingers dug possessively into his scalp, her legs lifting and wrapping around his waist, whether by his instigation or her own volition he could not say.
She moaned into his mouth and wrapped her thighs ever tighter, the movement making him realise he’d lost his shorts during the jump. The only barrier between his rampaging erection and her welcoming warmth was the flimsy material of her bikini bottoms.
For the first time in nearly two decades he had to grit his teeth to stop himself losing all control.
He needed air. He needed to feel the ground beneath his feet before he lost all contact with reality.
In one motion he lifted her out of the water, pulled himself out and tumbled down onto the grassy bank, pinning her beneath him.
The expression in her eyes... Never had he seen such openness reflected back at him. No inhibitions, nothing except honest, naked desire.
Her hand snaked around his head to cradle his skull and pull him down for another kiss. Devouring the sweetness of her mouth, he roved a hand down her side, exploring the soft, creamy skin. Her bikini top was secured by a tie around her back. It took no effort to untie it and whip the top away.
The feel of her naked breasts crushed beneath his chest fired him anew and he dipped his head down to capture a dusky nipple in his mouth.
She responded to his caresses with more passion than he could ever have dreamed.
He needed to kiss her again and, as he lost himself in the headiness of it all, Emily twisted from beneath him and climbed on top, straddling him.
For what felt an age in which his heart beat a thousand times she did nothing but stare at him, her eyes scanning every inch of his face.
She traced a thumb over his lips, a feather of a movement that was both tender and erotic, before replacing her thumb with her mouth.
His hands reached round and held her tightly against him as she ground against his erection.
She gave a low moan followed by the breath of a sigh, then nibbled at his neck, teasing, painless.
Covering his face and neck with kisses, tasting the muskiness of his skin, Emily slipped a hand between their meshed bodies, running her fingers down his lightly haired chest all the way to his mass of dark, wiry hair.
A deep pulsation seeped through her when she encircled his erection. She closed her eyes and thrilled at its heavy weight, the silken feel of its length.
Never, never had she imagined she could feel like this, feel such a need to be possessed. And it was all him: Pascha. He did something to her, ignited feelings—sensuous and emotional—she had never known existed within her. And those feelings were growing.
When she opened her eyes, she found his gaze locked upon her, his magnetic eyes stark with his desire. For her.
Whatever his reasons for keeping his distance last night, at that moment it didn’t matter. All that did matter was this moment, and this moment was with Pascha, the man who made her body come alive and her heart sing.
He cupped her cheeks and half-rose to meet her mouth, devouring it with his hot tongue, their kisses becoming increasingly desperate.
His fingers played with the ties holding the sides of her bikini bottoms together. She raised her hips a touch, her gasps deepening when he untied them and pulled the scraps of material off, discarding them on the grass beneath them.
Now they were both naked, the burn inside her turning to lava.
His mouth closed back over hers, large hands running over her back, tracing the arch of her shoulder blades and up, digging into her scalp, dragging through her hair. And all the while the tension within her grew. She’d never known desire could be a living thing.
And then she remembered where they were. And remembered that Pascha had lost his shorts in the pool. Even if he carried condoms with him they would be gone.
It took every ounce of her control to break away from his kisses and the heavenly things he was doing to her, grab his wrist and pin him to the grass.
Still straddling him, she gazed down at the face she could never grow tired of staring at. ‘I’m not on the pill.’
The intensity in his eyes concentrated, a pulse firing from them that made her belly somersault.
‘Emily, I can’t...’ He swallowed. ‘All my treatment as a child left me sterile. I promise I am clean and I promise you’ll be safe.’