‘And do you promise to stop me if I do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable?’
‘I promise.’ Her words were breathy, barely there and hardly out of her mouth before his mouth claimed hers, hot and demanding. She opened to him, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth in that strangely delicious way. Her hands reached for him, desperate to touch his skin now she had permission. As her fingers skimmed over his shoulders, his arms, the length of his back, his mouth became frantic. His fingers found the ties of her dress and she helped him pull it from her, their mouths only parting to get it off over her head.
She thought she heard the material of her undergarments tear as they followed her dress but she did not care and when his lips closed over her nipple, she lost all semblance of thought. She cried out, bucking against him. He bit lightly and her world turned into sensation, her body completely overrun by the way her sensitive skin responded to his touch. Everything was moving so fast, the heat roaring to life as if there had been no time since their first kiss in the music room. Her bodymoved through no conscious effort, craving more of something she couldn’t put a name to. ‘I want…’ she tried to say, her voice slurred and incoherent. ‘I want…’
His guttural growl was the only sign he had heard her. He rolled her to her back, one heavy arm pinning her down. ‘That…’ she managed before trailing off. The weight of him was heavenly, decadent, like nothing she had ever experienced. She wanted to tell him it was exactly what she wanted from him, but words refused to form as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to her stomach. She writhed beneath him, gasping as he moved lower still.
His tongue swept over her centre in a delicious lick that made her scream. ‘Yes, that.’ She was moving, pushing her hips towards him, uncaring if she seemed wanton. She thought she babbled words but was too far gone to know what she said. The swipe of his tongue was like nothing else, the press of his fingers so strange she would have laughed if she’d had any sense. As it was, her heels scrambled against the mattress, trying to push him deeper, further. It appeared he did not need words from her; he responded anyway, urging her body into ever higher forms of bliss. Her hands clutched at the sheets, his hair, his shoulders, anywhere she might get a hold.
‘Edward,’ she called as her world fractured, her body arching from the bed. He kept moving against her, sending the tension higher, spiralling until she did not know which way was up. When it was over, he pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, her stomach, his fingers still between her legs, lightly rubbing against the sensitive skin, which had caused her to lose her mind. Pleasure still whipped through her veins, like fireworks beneath her skin. His lips brushed the underside of her breast, the dip in the middle and closed over her nipple once more. She clung to his shoulders as sensation began to build again,his clever fingers applying pressure, the more she moved against him. ‘More,’ she whimpered, as his mouth travelled back down her body, unsure if she’d issued a question, a plea or a demand.
Knowing what to expect this time, it was no less shocking as her body reacted to his once more, the splintering, shattering explosion bringing her to the edge of what her body could bear.
This time when he moved up her body, she caught his head in her hands before he could start kissing her neck. ‘What is this?’ she garbled. ‘This thing you make my body do. What…?’
His fingers continued to move between her legs, lightly at first but with more pressure as she lifted her hips to meet him. ‘It is what happens between a man and a woman, but you…’ He grunted as she arched against him. ‘You are so responsive. I cannot…’ His mouth captured hers once more and for several delicious moments they stayed as they were, their moans intermingling, but she did not forget she wanted to ask him something. He stilled as she pulled away. Shifting against him, she silently urged him to keep moving; the curve of his smile against her jaw as he obliged had her smiling into the darkness.
‘What about you?’ she managed to gasp as the intense feeling began to coil in her once more.
‘Huh?’ he grunted.
‘You. Do you feel this?’
‘This?’
‘The fireworks.’
‘God, you are so…’ his lips ran along her jaw ‘…lovely,’ he murmured. ‘Utterly lovely, exquisite too. I will feel them, but not yet.’
‘How? Is it to do with this?’
He let out a strangled cry as her fingers curled around his length. ‘Yes, that, but you do not have to…’ Despite his words,he was thrusting in her hand, moving in imitation of his fingers between her legs.
‘I want to.’
His mouth came down on hers then, not with the practised kiss of the music room but almost desperately, like he could not get enough of her. She answered with a fire of her own, learning the rhythm that made him buck against her, his groans filling her mouth. Her world broke again and he growled, pulling her tightly against him as something warm splashed against her stomach.
They lay for a moment, slumped against one another, their breathing loud and heavy. Sweat cooled against her skin, his or hers she could not say. He rolled from her and she mumbled something in protest, words deserting her once more.
‘I will be back.’
He did not go far, climbing almost immediately back onto the bed. There was the press of a cloth against her stomach, the swipe of it moving across her, cleaning her, the rustle of the cloth being folded before he placed it between her legs, drying the skin.
She felt rather than saw the brief flick of his arm as he threw the cloth away from them.
‘Did you just throw the washcloth on the floor?’
His laugh was a deep rumble in his chest. ‘It turns out I can cope with the mess when my body is completely satisfied.’
If she’d had the energy, she would have preened. As it was, she merely slumped into him as he lay back down. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Their skin was sticky, but she did not want to be parted from him and she pressed herself closer.
He stroked her hair from her shoulder. At some point, it must have come loose from the bun. It was probably horribly tangled, but it was a problem for tomorrow. She was too exhausted to care about it now.
‘I have never done that with a man before,’ she told him. Somehow, it was important for him to understand he was her first.
‘I know.’
‘How?’ She squirmed against the bedsheets. ‘Did I do something wrong?’
