This would be sex purely for the pleasure. And no fear.
She wanted him so incredibly badly. In a step he was beside her, turning her towards him, seeming to read her mixed emotions-fleeting though they were.
The kiss was the lightest brush. So gentle, nothing like the wild passion she'd expected. It had always been so wild and fast between them before. But something had changed. Now it was as if he was savouring every single moment.
She kept her eyes closed, holding still as he slowly explored her mouth, the tip of his tongue tracing her lips before he moved to cover them with his own. So soft, so sweetly roving. His fingers slid down her neck, the tips stroking down her pulse point to her most sensitive skin. And his tongue swept into her as his fingers firmed, holding her face up to his.
She felt the heat inside her; no longer was it just her skin burning, but deep within her belly too she was warming-to softness, wetness, wanting. She shivered as he kissed down the length of her neck, nibbling the delicate skin.
'You have such a sensitive neck.' He tilted her chin higher with his fingers, getting greater exposure to the vulnerable, and, yes, super-sensitive stretch of her body.
Sensation rushed, overwhelming her. His near nudity, sheer size and closeness made her head spin. She couldn't quite believe he was here, touching her once more-certainly not so gently, so carefully. She locked her muscles, trying to stop her all-over-body shaking, but her legs weren't going to hold her up anymore.
His hands caught her round the waist; gently he lowered them both to the ground. And he set about slowly, so slowly touching every inch of her. Light hands trailed over her arms, working in symmetry; the tips of his fingers slid across her shoulders, along her collarbones to meet in the middle, and then continued a path down. And then his mouth joined the exploration.
He untied her bikini top, lifted it away and then cupped her breasts. She opened her eyes, saw the intensity in his as he held her-thumbs circling the jutting peaks as he gazed down her body. He was good. He was so good and she'd tried so hard to forget. But now the memories rushed, her muscles both slackened and strained-knowing the delight that was to follow. She shook as he took her hard nipple in his mouth. His tongue sluiced over the sensitive nub and he sucked more of her into his hot mouth and she couldn't contain the strangled sound of delight.
His hands dropped to her waist and he finished stripping her, slipping her shorts and bikini bottoms all the way down her legs. And although the last of her covering had been removed she now felt hotter than if she were unshaded out in the heat of the African sun.
He took the arches of her feet in sure, steady hands and pushed them wider apart, spreading her before slowly sliding his hands up her calves, to her knees and then even more slowly up her thighs. And his mouth, his full sensual mouth marked the way with kisses, his tongue accentuating each pleasurable pause.
And as he inched towards her core she moved, the tiniest rocking of her hips. She wanted him to get there. All the way to where she was wet and burning. She groaned. Unable to hold back the incredible need she had for him, the elemental, raw instinct that was driving every caution, every reason from her head.
Suddenly he moved fast, rising above her and pressing onto her body, and she shuddered under his magnificent weight. Mouth open and hungry, she pulled him closer as she let her hips writhe under the wonderfully hard heat of his.
This kiss was utterly erotic-intimate and shamelessly aggressive and she plundered as deeply as he did. She could feel him shaking now too and she swept her hands over him, seeking to touch as much skin as she could. Spreading herself wider beneath his rock-hard body, straining to take him in hand and maximise both their pleasure.
She nipped his wonderfully full top lip. 'Why are you still wearing your shorts?'
He laughed and pressed harder against her, the wet fabric delightfully stimulating against the soft skin of her inner thighs. 'Because I don't want this over too soon.'
'Haven't we waited long enough?'
But his weight had gone and his hands gripped hers, holding them to her sides as he knelt over her, kissing his way from one breast to another, teasing her painfully tight nipples with his hot mouth and wickedly sexy tongue. And then that tongue went lower, circling her belly button and its decorative silver ring and then lower still. He lifted a hand and slid that south too, delving fingers into her curve, parting her so he could kiss that most secret, sensitive part of her.
He gripped her hips now, stilling her writhing enough so he could extract more from her-more tension, more longing, more need.
But the need to touch him rose, too. She lifted her shoulders from the ground, reaching for him and yanking his shorts down. He groaned as he sprang free and she took advantage of his momentary stillness to move-to explore.
She stroked his silken, rigid length with her fingers and heard him swear. She kissed him and felt him shudder. Then he twisted in her hold, moving so he could touch her as intimately as she was him.
He matched his strokes to hers and she revelled in the freedom of giving her hunger free rein. She breathed in the scent of him, licked the salty taste of him, pressed the hardness of him beneath his smooth skin. She savoured the tension she felt rolling off him. Yes, she could torment him too and she relished it. Her actions grew bolder still, more aggressive, faster, frantic-she was desperate for the pleasures of the flesh and for the white-hot orgasm she knew was almost hers. But suddenly he was gone. Half a metre away from her.
'Ana.'
She whimpered, body trembling with loss. 'Why have you stopped?'
'Because I want more than this.' He tore the packet, sheathed himself with fast, jerky movements.
What more did he want? Mutual pleasure, physical fulfilment-what more was there?
'I want it all.' He rose above her, aligning his length to hers as he looked into her eyes. He laced their fingers together and she could feel him there, thick and heavy against her. So close.
Yes, there was more. There was intimacy, there was that baring not just of body, but of soul. That sharing of the most inner self-and the vulnerability that came with it. And he was seeking it-his ice-blue eyes on fire and searching deep into hers.
He thrust deep, sure, hard. She closed her eyes, tried to absorb the hit of feeling as they locked together again-but she couldn't. Her breath shuddered from her lungs, catching her cry. And in those few moments he regained his control, but hers ebbed. She'd ached for this for too long.
'Please, oh, please.' Her fingers pulled at him, nails curled into the hard muscles, and her hips lifted, forcing the rhythm she so desperately craved, wanting him to drive into her.
And then he did, thrusting deep again, again, again.
Her hands swept over his broad, slick shoulders, revelling in the bulging muscles, savouring the incredibly hard body riding her, rocking into her with a faster, more powerful rhythm than she'd ever dreamed of. This couldn't be wrong. It had to be right. Nothing had ever felt so right.
It didn't take much; it was never going to take much when she'd been so on edge for him for so long. She panted, more audible, more hysterical until all too soon he caught her mouth with his and contained her scream, adding his own groan to it as they shook, reaching the summit and freefalling through the sensations.
Chapter Six
ANA rose before the sun, slipped on a tee shirt and shorts, not bothering with a bikini underneath-just wanting to escape while he slept. Seconds later she left the banda and went for a walk along the beach, eventually succumbing to the temptation and wading into the warm water. She floated for an age, looking out to the horizon where the sky was lightening, and waited for the sun.
She sensed something, looked over her shoulder and saw him watching from the water's edge. The splashes were gentle as he walked in. His arm curled around her, pulling her back against him before she had any chance of escape-not that she wanted to.
His hands spread wide, smoothing over her wet shirt, and then cupped her breasts. She couldn't help herself, leaned back against him. One hand slipped lower, beneath her waistband to where she was really wet. It was mere moments, the fewest of seconds, but it wasn't over. His mouth was hot on her neck, pressing passionate kisses between the words he whispered again, again. 'One night is not enough.'
Until finally she answered him, acknowledging the truth of it, and offering the only answer she could. 'The rest of Africa. We can have the rest of Africa.'