She soon found out.
Mikael turned her around to face him and it was a little like being in the car, with him trying to put on her seatbelt. Every touch had her awareness heightened. She stood shivering in anticipation as he positioned them. She felt his hand on her shoulder and his face move to hers, and then she was lost—because nothing in her imaginings could have prepared her for those arrogant lips turned tender.
His kiss was very soft at first, and one hand rested on her waist, the other at her shoulder.
Then she felt the slip of his tongue and the slide of his hand to the back of her head. She had not known that tongues kissed too. It was shocking, it was sensual, it was the gateway to paradise—and her hands went to his hair now as she matched his tongue. And then, whether it was his hand on her bottom or just the call of her groin, they moved in closer and that was the problem—one kiss led to more.
She could feel him hard at her centre, but more than that she could feel the strain of her breasts and the pull low in her stomach as Mikael kissed her ever deeper and then pulled his head back.
One kiss and her chin was red and her lips swollen.
‘I’d better shave next time,’ he said.
‘We agreed one kiss.’ Layla smiled. ‘But now I know why it is trouble…’
He released her. ‘I’d better go.’
‘You need to leave my nightdress,’ she said. ‘Are you working tomorrow?’
‘I am,’ he said, ‘but I’ll try and finish early.’ He was worried about her going out without him, but at the same time didn’t want to curtail her. ‘What are you doing tomorrow?’
‘I have a very special day planned,’ Layla said as he took off his shirt and handed it to her. ‘I am not getting out of bed.’
‘Oh?’ Mikael waited for her to elaborate but she had clearly said all she wanted to on the subject.
She looked at him, naked from the waist up, and wanted more of what she had so recently felt. ‘Can you kiss me now, so I can feel your skin?’
‘Definitely not,’ he said, putting on his jacket and pocketing his tie. ‘Night, Layla.’
‘I have another thing on my bucket list now,’ Layla said as he headed for the door. ‘I want to have an orgasm.’
‘I’m going home.’
‘Seriously, Mikael.’ She saw him to the door. ‘I thought you could only achieve orgasm with sexual intercourse, and even then only if you were lucky. Am I wrong?’
‘Very wrong!’ Mikael almost groaned. ‘Goodnight, Layla.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
LAYLA AWOKE LONG after sunrise and lay in bed for a happy hour, just remembering Mikael’s kiss and replaying it over and over, before ringing down for breakfast—only to find out that it was lunchtime.
‘What would you like, Layla?’ The staff thought she was wonderful, and the head chef was brought to the phone to help her with her order.
‘I want someone to come and help me put on the television, and I want a thinly sliced and peeled apple to cleanse my palette, and then something nice to eat.’