Page 49 of The Rum and The Fox

“Don’t be frightened, love,” Ash said on observing this, his head reappearing as he’d taken a moment to pull off his shirt. He dropped it to the ground, and suddenly Keziah was more interested in the man in front of her. She had thought him rather slight, in truth, but now she realised her mistake. There was not an ounce of fat on him, it was true, but he was well made, the muscle on his chest and arms not heavy, perhaps, but well defined and taut. Keziah realised she was staring and averted her eyes, but was left with the rather surprising desire to reach out and touch him.

Burning with embarrassment, that desire was put to one side as Ash began to divest her of her undergarments. Keziah alternately stared at the floor or closed her eyes, anything but meet his gaze as each layer revealed more of her, until she was standing in nothing but her skin.

Trying to memorise a rather garish pattern in the rug beneath her feet, anything rather than look up, it took her a moment to realise that Ash was standing in front of her, unmoving.

She looked up, then, forcing herself to meet his gaze, wondering if perhaps he was disappointed or in some way upset, until she saw his eyes. He gave a rather rueful huff of laughter as she stared at him, finding his eyes glittering with emotion. He swallowed then, smiling and reaching out his hand to her.

“I never dreamed …” he said, the words fading away as he gazed upon her like he’d revealed some lost treasure. “I never dared to dream … Oh, Keziah, you’re so very beautiful, and I love you so.”

Keziah caught her breath, her emotions in such a tangle that she hardly knew what she was feeling, let alone how to reply. She should tell him she loved him, too, surely … but then she was in his arms, startled by the feeling of his warm skin against hers, and everything else faded away.

His skin was so very soft, far softer than she had considered, believing that men were in some way tougher than women. That it wasn’t true was a revelation. His body was harder than her own, certainly, but … She ran her hands down his back and his breath seemed to catch as he kissed her harder, deeper.

He released her and she almost stumbled, his arm reaching to steady her as she felt really quite giddy.

“Come, love,” he said, his voice rather rough now as he drew her to the bed and bid her lay down with him.

Keziah slid between the covers, the cool cotton making her shiver again. As Ash pulled her to him she found his body seemed hotter still in contrast, his skin burning against hers. His hands moved over her now, restless and searching but still tender, exploring her as though he would make a map, committing each tiny detail to memory. As if to make certain of his path, his lips followed where his questing hands had been, and Keziah made a startled sound of surprise as his mouth closed over her breast.

Pleasure shot through her in a sudden spike, only to be followed by softer waves of the same sensation, ebbing and building all at once as his mouth and tongue explored and kissed and held her captive with delight.

As his mouth worked, his hand slid over her belly, tickling her as his fingers trailed through the little thatch of hair between her thighs. Keziah felt she ought to be nervous now, she ought to be tensing for what came next, but his hands and his mouth and his tongue … it was as though she was drugged, a strangely languid, heavy feeling suffusing her limbs whilst she felt all at once alive and awake and desperate for … for whatever else there was. So when his fingers sought and found the place that they desired, she made no demur, only found her breathing growing faster, that languid pleasure transforming into something hotter and needful and far more urgent.

She heard his voice as if from a distance, speaking to her softly, urging her down the path she had set upon without knowing where it led. But she required no further invitation; the destination might be unknown, but it was clear enough, and she rushed towards it, clutching at Ash, at the bed sheets, at whatever might anchor her to the ground as the world seemed to fall apart around her, tumbling away as the pleasure crashed over her, sparking behind her eyelids and forcing such a cry from her lips that she knew would shock her once her senses were restored.

She lay still, then, her blood strangely alive beneath her skin, fizzing like champagne, her whole self tingling and more alive than she had ever realised she could feel. That part of her, the place where his fingers had caressed and drawn her ever forward, throbbed still, keeping time with her heart as it thundered in her ears.

“Keziah?”

She forced her eyes open, though unwillingly, as they were heavy, her limbs likewise sated and sleepy.

Blinking, she found Ash staring down at her, his eyes dark with desire, but concern lingering in his expression. “Are you … I mean, was it …” He faltered, looking awkward, and so Keziah nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered and pulled his head down so that he might kiss her again. He needed no more encouragement and moved to settle between her legs. Keziah sucked in a breath as he slid between her legs, caressing her slick and tender skin with the part of him she had averted her eyes from.

She swallowed, knowing that this was the moment she had feared, this was the moment where it would change and he would take his pleasure. She tensed beneath him and he stilled, breathing hard but clearly too concerned with her sudden tension to carry on, and then she realised she had nothing to fear. He was not like that. This was Ash, her dearest friend, the man who had gone to such lengths to see her safe. For the first time in her entire life, she knew she had someone to trust in.

He would never hurt her.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, bending to place a gentle kiss on her lips. “I … I know the first time can be a little …”

“I’m not afraid,” she said before he could say any more, and meaning it now. She reached up and pulled his mouth back to hers and allowed the tension to fall away, allowed Ash to coax that strange and enticing feeling back to life, that delicious tugging deep inside her that seemed to gather energy as he moved against her. It flooded her veins like a drug, making her gasp and pull him closer so that when he slid inside, there was only a moment of tightness, a sharp pinch that made her breath catch, and then it was done and gone. She stared up in wonder at the man moving over her, inside her, finding it strange, and yet … somehow not strange at all to share this with him. He caught her gaze, by some means knowing just what she was thinking, and he laughed, the sound so full of joy that it caught at her heart.

“I love you,” he whispered, bending to paint a trail of kisses down her neck. “So much, so very much, oh …”

The words faded as his breath caught and his body grew taut beneath her hands. He moved faster, harder, with more urgency, and the sounds he made were harsh and loud and, yes, animalistic, all of that, but she was not afraid, nor disgusted. Quite the opposite, his desire, his enjoyment of her seemed to burst into flame within her, pleasure surging through her as he reached his peak, holding onto her so tight she could barely breathe or move, but managed to cry out with him as she followed where he led.