‘Oysters. Open up.’ He inches forward and I inch back, my face screwing up in disgust.
‘No, thank you,’ I say politely. I don’t know much about the shellfish, but I do know they’re obscenely expensive and, supposedly, an aphrodisiac. I don’t plan on finding out, though, because they look repulsive.
‘Have you tried them before?’ he asks.
‘No.’
‘Then you must.’ He moves in closer, not giving me much more retreating space. ‘Open.’
‘You try first,’ I suggest, trying to buy myself some time.
He shakes his head, a little exasperated. ‘As you wish.’
‘I do.’
He watches me as he slowly tips the oyster to his mouth, his head falling back, but his eyes holding mine. His neck lengthens and his throat is taut and totally kissable. Then he swallows painfully slowly and an unfamiliar bang lands between my thighs, making me shift. Oh fuck, he looks too sexy. I feel hot.
He dumps the rock, grabs the front of my T-shirt in his fist and yanks me forward onto his mouth, catching me by complete surprise, but there is nothing I can or want to do to stop him. His hungry invasion is met with equal intent from me. I find his naked shoulders and relish in my first experience of his bare flesh under my palms. It’s better than I imagined. His tongue is working through my mouth fervently, and I can do nothing more than accept, tasting the saltiness of the oyster, until he breaks our kiss and removes my hands from his shoulders, him panting, me gasping.
‘That wasn’t a result of the oyster,’ he heaves, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, pulling me forward, his nose meeting mine. ‘That was a result of you sitting here in front of me with a look of pure desire in your exquisite eyes.’
I want to tell him that he has that look too, but I quickly stop myself, considering, perhaps, that he may just look at all women like that, or maybe it’s just the way he looks full stop. I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing, instead choosing to continue with my fitful breaths as he holds me in place.
‘I’ve just paid you a compliment.’
‘Thank you,’ I murmur.
‘You’re welcome. Are you ready to let me worship you, Olivia Taylor?’
I nod as he slowly moves forward, his blues flicking from my mouth to my eyes constantly until his lips are lightly brushing over mine, but this time he’s relaxed and tender with his taking, gently seducing my mouth as he rises, encouraging me to stand with him, before he holds my nape once more and starts walking forward, forcing me to step back. I let him guide me until we’re entering his bedroom and I’m feeling his bed at the back of my knees, and the whole time he holds our mouths together. He’s an extraordinary kisser, overwhelmingly good, like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. If this is a sign of things to come, then I hope the next twenty-four hours last for ever. I’m bursting at the seams with desire, matching him. Sensibility has vanished again.
His hand leaves my neck and grasps the hem of my T-shirt, lifting it and breaking our mouth contact to get it past my head so I’m forced to release his shoulders and lift my arms. My lingering concern for my lack of sexy underwear is long forgotten. I can’t seem to focus on anything except him, his passion and his energy. It’s all-consuming, leaving no room for anxiousness or hesitation. Or, more importantly, that sensible gene that seems to have disappeared into thin air under his attention.
‘Do you feel better?’ he asks, breathing down on me, his groin pressing into my stomach.
‘Yes,’ I gasp, clenching my eyes shut, trying to comprehend what’s happening.
‘Don’t deprive me of your eyes, Livy.’ His hands encase my cheeks. ‘Open.’
I do. I open my eyes, my line of sight leading me straight to shimmering blues.
Leaning in, he kisses me sweetly. ‘I have to keep reminding myself that I need to take this slowly.’
‘I’m fine,’ I assure him, reaching up and resting the flats of my hands on his torso. He’s being a gentleman, and I’m grateful, but I’m not sure that I want him to take it slowly. The desire ripping through me is getting hard to control.
He pulls away and smiles, and I fall some more. ‘I’m looking forward to indulging in you slowly.’ He reaches down and starts to unbutton the fly of my jeans. ‘Really slowly.’
‘Why?’ I ask, stupidly or not.
‘Because something as beautiful as this should be savoured, not rushed. Kick your shoes off.’
I do as I’m bid and watch as he drops to his knees and peels the denim from my legs, tossing my jeans to the side before he hooks his fingers in the top of my knickers. I’m looking down at him as he draws them from my legs slowly, prompting me to lift each leg in turn so he can rid me of my white cotton. Reaching forward with his mouth, he kisses me softly, just north of the apex of my thighs, and I noticeably tense, but not because I’m nervous. I don’t feel any worries. He’s being so careful with me, but the heavy ache, low in my stomach, is intensifying with every second that passes.