She had just climbed into bed when Joel came in.
I've brought you a nightcap,' he told her, handing her another glass. The last of the champagne. Drink it, it will help you sleep.'
The glass was three quarters full and Lissa sipped at it, watching him move about the bedroom. He took off his shirt and as though she were an observer to her own reactions she found herself monitoring her own physical response to him. His skin was faintly olive, tanned and sleek, his muscles hard without being over-developed. He disappeared into the bathroom, and Lissa heard the shower running.
She had just about finished her champagne when he came back and she watched him walk towards her.
Finished?' As he got into bed beside her, he turned towards her and took her glass. She was still sitting up and as he turned away to put the glass on the tray his hand rested lightly on her shoulder preventing her from lying down. The bedside lamps were still on and as Lissa reached out to snap hers off, Joel reached across her, his arm a dark bar against the whiteness of her nightdress. For some reason Lissa seemed unable to take her eyes off it. Her light went out, Joel's arm moving against her body. Wonderingly she touched the olive skin of his forearm, completely absorbed in the sensation of his skin beneath her fingertips, warm and vital. She looked up at him, his face half in the shadow thrown by the other lamp. He leaned forward and his lips brushed hers. Curiously she was neither surprised nor apprehensive. It seemed as though some part of her mind had known that he was going to kiss her and directed her to turn into his kiss rather than away from it. His hand left the lamp and curled round her, turning her, but all her concentration was fixed on and fascinated by the slow movement of his mouth against her own and her own response to it. Easily, fluidly, she felt the natural reaction of her body to his proximity. Her mouth parted at the gentle insistence of his tongue, her senses half bewildered and totally confused by the delicately explorative way he ran it over her lips. She wanted more … more than this lightly arousing intimacy she realised inwardly, but that knowledge did not shock or frighten her. On the contrary, it seemed completely natural and right. So much so, that her hands lifted to Joel's neck, her lips parting yearningly for his kiss.
But he didn't kiss her. Instead he lay down, pulling her down on top of him, burying his face in her hair, tightening one arm round her waist while the thumb of his free hand, probed and stroked the vulnerable skin of her neck. Tiny frissons of pleasure shivered through her and while she knew Joel must be aware of them, she didn't feel ashamed or embarrassed, instead she arched closer to him, closing her eyes and abandoning herself to the shivering delight he was arousing.
Lissa … Lissa, look at me.' His lips brushed lightly over her closed eyelids and dutifully she opened them drowning in the deep gold pools of his. He kissed her cheek, lightly, trailing tantalising kisses to the corner of her mouth. Lissa gave a small tormented moan. She wanted him to kiss her properly. Almost as though he knew how she felt his mouth touched hers. But the contact was too light … to fleeting. He kissed her again just as lightly and Lissa could feel the blood drumming frantically in her veins. Her fingers curled protestingly into his shoulder, her lips clinging pleadingly to his when he kissed her again. Her small moan of protest when the pressure she craved for was removed was checked as his mouth returned to hers, this time satisfying the hunger inside her. Lissa gasped, reality melting like snow in the desert sun. Suddenly nothing was more important than that Joel kept on kissing her as he was doing right now. When he slid her nightdress straps off her shoulder she shuddered in reaction to his fingers against her skin but it wasn't a shudder of rejection. How had she never known until now how right it would be to feel his hand against her breast, slowly stroking its rounded shape. She made a sound beneath his kiss, suddenly hating the intrusion of her cotton nightdress for coming between his touch and her skin, and when he released her mouth she tugged ineffectually at the fabric protesting huskily, It's in the way Take it off.'
The hot glitter in Joel's eyes made her tremble, but in anticipation not fear, eager for the moment when he slid her nightdress from her body and cupped her breasts in his hands. Her heart was racing so fast it was making her dizzy, through a champagne induced cloud she gazed at Joel.
Are you enjoying this, Lissa?' he asked huskily, Does it give you pleasure?'
Amazingly it did. She nodded her head slowly, watching the smile curl his mouth. So am I,' he told her softly. His mouth nuzzled her throat, finding and exploiting a thousand pleasure spots, his teeth nipping gently until she twisted and arched against him in heady abandon.
Beneath the slow caress of his hands her breasts swelled and ached, her nipples tight and hard, wanting something more than the lightly arousing brush of his thumb. When he bent his head and slowly dragged his tongue over the tightness of her nipple Lissa reacted instinctively, her finger-nails finding his spine and grating over the vertebrae until he shuddered. What is it you want, Lissa? This?' His mouth moved over her skin, sending shock waves of arousal shuddering through her when it reached her nipple. In the light from the lamp she could see their entwined bodies; his dark and lean, hers feminine, curved, pale apart from the rosy aureoles of her breasts. Her nudity which hitherto had always displeased her was now something she took pleasure in. Joel's hand cupped her other breast, his head bending towards it and desire kicked to life inside her, her body arching into his possession. She felt almost faint from the pressure of needing him so much. She muttered his name watching him slowly releasing the swollen tip of her breast, her fingers curling into his hair as the need to feel his mouth against her breast again overwhelmed her.
Lissa … ' There was a raw, primitive message of need in the way Joel said her name, the fierce demand of his mouth on hers, enflaming her senses further. She trembled against his body, flattening her palms on his chest, confused by the harsh dragging cry that came from his throat when she did so. Beneath her hands she could feel the prickle of the dark hair that grew on his chest and also the tightness of his nipples. Were they as vulnerable to pleasure as her own? Slowly she bent towards them, running her tongue over their sharp outline as Joel had done with her. She felt his chest muscles contract as he dragged air into his lungs, his fingers curling into her hair.
Oh God yes, Lissa. Yes … do that again.'
His abandonment excited her, the hoarse words of praise and demand that came from his throat inciting her to blindly follow his commands. There was pleasure to be found in touching as well as being touched she was discovering, especially when Joel's response to her left her in no doubts as to the way she aroused him.
I'm the one who's supposed to be doing the seducing,' he whispered in her ear. Not you.'
He was still wearing his pyjama trousers and as her glance rested on them and then skittered away he released her rolling on to his side while he tugged them off, quickly coming back to her. The heat and power of the maleness of him against her skin was intensely arousing and Lissa clung to him.
Now dimly, as though the information were of little importance to her and somehow divorced from her she realised that had it not been for the champagne she had drunk she would not be here with Joel like this; that she would never have been able to put her fears and torturous self-doubts aside for long enough to allow him to touch and arouse her as he had, but somehow this knowledge was only of minor import.
Slowly Joel caressed her body, his touch magically conveying to her that while he was the one who was in control inciting and arousing the leaping pulses beating under her skin he too was also held in thrall paying homage to her femininity in the age old way of man; both master and slave to it.
In the shadowy half light she watched his fingers described dizzying seductive patterns of delight against her skin; the curve of her hip, her thigh … She closed her eyes shuddering achingly, clinging to him, crying out his name.
His mouth brushed hers, calming, comforting as though he knew of the primaeval fear suddenly rushing through her body at the weight of his against it.
Shush … relax … '
He was soothing her as he might have done Louise when she was in the grip of one of her nightmares Lissa realised but somehow it didn't matter, what did matter was that she clung to the reassuring calmness of his voice letting it strike at the deepest inner core of her. His mouth covered hers again and she clung to him letting the fierce need he was arousing inside her explode and drown out everything else. She was discovering within herself an intensely sensual streak that she now dimly perceived had perhaps always been there. Perhaps it was the very sensuality of her nature which had caused her to react so violently in the past. Her parents had been severely puritanical in their views; so much so that Lissa was beginning to see how her up-bringing must have been at war with much in her own nature.