For a long, long moment, they simply stood there, still staring at each other, neither of them moving a single muscle, even to blink. Or possibly breathe. Sophie could feel something changing, however.
That dam had well and truly burst, that’s what it was. The feeling of hope was flooding the air around them. Washing anything irrelevant far enough away to be forgotten, at least for now. Even pain from the past. Or fears for the future.
The present was all that existed.
The two of them were all that existed.
Sophie knew Luc was about to kiss her. The move to rise on to her tiptoes to meet the dip of Luc’s head was hanging there between them, still contained but ready to take flight – like that lovely sculpture on the ramparts of St Paul de Vence.
And Sophie knew that this time, she wouldn’t have to wait for the safety of privacy to imagine what might come after this kiss.
Because this wasn’t only the beginning of the project Luc wanted to devote himself to for the rest of his life.
This was a new beginning forthem.
* * *
Mon Dieu… c’était hallucinant…
Mind blowing.
The need for an intimate, physical connection had never been this… compelling. Luc’s body and his brain – possibly his soul – seemed to have been hijacked by the way Sophie was looking into his eyes and the echo of her words.
‘I’m so proud of you…’
He had been swept up into a spiral of need that was so powerful it was almost paralysing.
Maybe that was why he was moving in slow motion. Why the first touch of his lips to Sophie’s was so light, it was no more than the stroke of a feather. Why he kissed her again and again, cupping her face in his hands. Her response was equally controlled but just as intense. Luc could feel what was waiting, for this gentle interaction – like the opening moves of a courting dance – to reach a tipping point that would send them spinning into the unknown. A void that he had dreamed of falling into from the first moment he’d laid eyes on Sophie Spencer.
But slow was good. This deserved all the time in the world and Luc was going to give it every ounce of respect – reverence – that was possible.
He took a beat to break the kiss. Still cupping her face, he touched the tip of his nose to Sophie’s and then leaned his forehead against hers, taking a moment for their breath to mingle. To be close enough to soak in the warmth and scent of her skin and hair. To feel the pulse on her neck quickening and then, as he lifted his head and opened his eyes, to see a reflection of his own need in her eyes. He dropped his hands, letting them drift over her shoulders and down her bare arms, leaving goosebumps behind them. His hands reached hers and their fingers entwined as he kissed her again.
A deeper kiss, this time.
An acknowledgment of that need. An invitation but not a demand. This was Sophie’s choice.
She dropped one of his hands but not the other. She used that hold to lead him towards the stairs but he barely noticed the kitchen at the top. Another, narrower set of stairs and there it was, bathed in soft light from a lamp. A rumpled, unmade bed that looked like the gateway to paradise with its big, soft pillows and crisp-looking sheets and the pretty lace cover. Everything was white.
Virginal.
And that felt more than appropriate. It was perfect, because this was the first time for them. It felt like the first time ever, in fact. Maybe that was why Sophie suddenly looked a little nervous?
She was still holding his hand. She stopped and turned and he let his body collide gently with hers.
‘I should have made my bed,’ she whispered.
‘Why?’ Luc smiled as he bent his head to kiss her. ‘I think it’s about to get even messier.’
Her smile was a reward for his reassurance. And the promise?
Time was doing strange things. It sped up as they helped each other undress, fingers fumbling with buttons and zips, clothing discarded without thought on the floor. Then it slowed down until it felt like they’d found infinity and that was perfect, too, because this needed to be slow. You could only ever get one first time.
There was time to touch and get drunk on the taste and scent of each other, using their fingers and lips, their tongues and the wordless sounds of their voices to slip past the barriers that had always been between them. To get so close Luc had no idea where his breath ended and Sophie’s began. Whose heartbeat he could feel and whether a separation of their bodies actually existed at all.
This was, indeed, sex like nothing Luc had ever known.
This was making love in its purest form, with the intent that every moment was a gift – on both sides. It was an expression of everything that could come only from the heart but could, magically, be communicated through this physical connection, and even more when their eyes met and neither of them could break the gaze. That touch felt like a kiss that was soul-deep.
