After a time he paused. "Let's try the front of you now, shall we?" he asked in a husky purr.
Sarah forced herself to relax.
He moved his hands to her neck and shoulders, and gradually down to her breasts. He began to lather them tenderly, starting with the sides.
She instantly went on fire, her nipples peaking, her belly rippling, her face flaming. His hands moved down over her stomach next. She held her breath, hardly daring to move, or believe this wonderful man was about to touch her in so lover-like a manner. That he desired her.
She had been asleep last night. Her head was spinning so much she was afraid she would faint, and struggled for control. She didn't want to miss a thing. Wanted to lock this in her memory, treasure it forever.
Just when she thought he was going to touch her most secret place, he slipped past her hips and down to her legs, and lathered the length of them until he reached her feet. Once there he counted her toes like a happy boy.
She heaved out a shaky breath at last, and began to breathe more evenly, if still shallowly. "Ten only," she laughed. "And those rather ticklish."
"What perfection. All of you is absolutely beautiful, Sarah. So soft, so voluptuous."
"I can honestly say the same of you, darling. You're incredible. So manly."
She caressed his arm, and put her hand on his thigh, stroking him through the silk of his dressing gown. She could see him responding to her again, and flicked the robe aside to run her hand along the soft down of his muscular thigh. She was fascinated with the difference in textures. And even more enthralled with what she was able to see at just about eye level. She slowly slid her long fingers upwards toward his impressive male attributes, which were growing more and more impressive by the second.
"Oh, you are the most loving woman," he sighed. "But I'm so wicked."
"Is this wicked, do you think?" she whispered, watching his burgeoning erection.
She knew many women found it disgusting, if not downright ridiculous. But Sarah could only feel proud, and humble. She was doing this to him. She had the power.
But it was also from within him, something she couldn't even begin to fathom. A force of nature so wild and free, which could be curbed but not contained. He was magnificent, enthralling. She felt like a pagan goddess worshipping at his altar.
"Well, no," he admitted with a whoosh of breath as her fingers teased the crisp hair at the edge of his mons pubis. "Not wicked. It feels, well, natural. So very right. Do you think so?"
"No, not at all wicked," she said, wishing he could see the naked admiration in her eyes for his perfection. "I think you're beautiful too. I think this is the way we're meant to be. I won't lie and say I'm not scared. I'm terrified, but so full of longing too. It's like, well, like every minute of my life has led up to this point. That this between us is meant to be."
He laughed tremulously, and rubbed the back of her questing hand. "I don't mean to rush your bath, my dear, but if you keep doing that I'm not going to be able to wait long enough to get to the bed."
"That doesn't sound so bad."
"It would be for your first time. I want to fulfill your every dream, make you happy."
"You do. I'm happy whenever we're together. You don't have to plan or control it. We can just relax and let it happen, as you did in the tub. "
She took the soap from his nerveless fingers to wash herself all over. She put his hand on her breast as she rose from the tub and kissed him.
"I want it to happen for you too."
"I'm sure it will. It did the other night," she confessed. "At least I think it did."
"Really?" He sounded delighted, and relieved.
"Yes, darling. I love the way you touch me. In every way."
"In that case--"
She held still as if in a trance as Alexander took the towel from her to dry her off, rubbing her back and breasts, and her thighs with long sweeping strokes which had her almost purring like a cat.
She pulled away at last and re-donned her dressing gown. Making sure the fire was out in the small heater, she led him to the foot of the stairs and kissed him.
He pulled her to him tightly, his arms enveloping her like a sensual cocoon. She could feel his hardness pressing into her stomach urgently, but knew no fear. She rubbed against him, the silk of their robes whispering against each other and the bare flesh underneath. The rasp of his skin on her chin thrilled her, and she began to nibble down his throat and chest.
"Bed. We need the bed," he gasped, his tone increasing with urgency with every word.