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She heard him groan deep down in his throat, a male purr of tormented longing. She lifted her fingers to his throat and touched it, feeling the vibration of the noise he was making against her fingertips. She loved the feel of his skin, the feel of his body. She loved it when she closed her hand, her hands, around him and felt the satisfying hard swell of his body as he reacted to her touch.
‘Both hands?’ he had teased her, the first time she had wrapped them lovingly around him.
‘Mmm...but you do wonders for my ego. One will do, Dee...’
‘One will do,’ she had acknowledged. ‘But it feels so good to hold you like this, with two...’
‘I can’t argue with that,’ he had agreed throatily, but he had still been laughing a little at her.
He had stopped laughing, though, when she had held him still and bent her head to place a ring of shyly adoring kisses around the taut head of his erection.
Oh, yes, he had stopped laughing then.
Now, with the lights turned down low over the large, luxurious bed, Hugo undressed her slowly. They had been to bed together before, but this time, somehow, it was different...special...and the moment he stepped away from her he gave her a look so full of import that it made Dee shiver a little to read the message in his eyes. This was their night of commitment to one another, the final bridge to cross on their way to complete commitment, the final act which they had not yet shared.
They already knew one another’s dreams and one another’s hopes, they already knew what they were destined to be and to do—that together they would work for the benefit of mankind, that they would leave university to work together in the field, would marry before they left. Hugo was so idealistic—even more so, in some ways, than she was herself. He believed passionately in what he wanted to do and he was totally and utterly committed to it. To deny him the opportunity would be like cutting off one of his limbs, only worse.
‘There’s so much we can give them, so much we can put back into a culture, a country, that in the past we’ve only taken from and destroyed, and there’s so much we can learn from them. They have so little in materialistic terms,
but they have their pride and their dignity—their heritage.
‘My father doesn’t approve of what I’m planning to do, you know, and neither does my grandfather, but it’s something I have to do...I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t,’ he had told her passionately, and Dee had known exactly what he meant. His idealism only made her love him more, even whilst she knew that it would also mean that there would always be a small part of his heart and his emotions that did not belong totally to her.
He was very like her father, in that his pride in his own beliefs ran very strongly in him. Very like her father.
‘It’s your turn,’ Hugo whispered to her now, as his tender glance caressed and reassured her. Very carefully Dee started to undress him, her fingers trembling not with nervousness but with the intensity of her suppressed and aching longing for him.
‘No, that’s cheating,’ she protested huskily when, without waiting for her to finish, he leaned forward and started to nibble the side of her neck, his hand cupping and stroking her naked breast. Dee closed her eyes as she felt her body’s reaction, going still as she tried to stem the fierce hot tide of it, rising not so much up through her body as washing fiercely down through it, to that place where the sheer pressure of it forced into life a fierce, tumultuously beating pulse.
Hugo’s lips caressed her shoulder, her collarbone, and then moved lower, nuzzling at the soft curve of her breast and then the taut crest of her nipple before closing over that nipple itself. Dee made a fiercely guttural noise of throaty excitement, her fingernails digging into Hugo’s skin, but if he felt any pain he certainly didn’t show it. However, his slow, careful suckling on her nipple did, suddenly becoming an urgent, body-trembling erotic tug that made Dee groan as she buried her hands in his hair and held him passionately to her.
Somehow she was on the bed. Somehow Hugo was undressed. Somehow he had positioned her so that he could kneel between her splayed legs as he kissed her quivering belly. Now, with no need to control her longing for him, Dee could respond to him as she had so much longed to do, arching her spine and lifting herself to the tormenting lap of his tongue as he licked at the moist slickness of her body. There was no need for the champagne—her own desire had covered her skin in its own sweetly scented mist of arousal—but, wonderful though the touch of his mouth against her body was, it wasn’t what Dee really wanted. Not now. Not this time.
‘Are you sure you’re ready for me? Do you want...?’ Hugo asked her hoarsely as she reached for him, wildly begging him, eagerly demanding to feel him deep inside her.
‘Oh, yes, yes...’ Dee groaned longingly.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him, watching him as urgently, as hungrily as he watched her.
‘I’m afraid of hurting you,’ he confessed as he hesitated, but his body wasn’t afraid, Dee recognised, her eyes widening as she watched him lowering himself towards her. He looked so good, so...so ready...so—
She gave a little whimper of sound as she felt him rubbing himself slowly against her.
‘That hurt?’ Hugo asked her in concern.
Dee managed to laugh.
‘Yes,’ she told him. ‘It hurts because it’s not...because I want you inside me...’ She gave a smothered gasp as she felt the first of the deep penetrative strokes she had so longed for, her eyes widening as she realised how well their bodies fitted together.
No way did the sensation she had of being filled, stretched completely, in any way approximate to any kind of pain, but the intensity of her pleasure was so acute that it could almost be described as a kind of special agony, a racking urgency, a pulsing, heart-jerking, driven compulsion that had her calling out Hugo’s name as she clung frantically to him.
It didn’t last long; both of them were too aroused, too wrought up emotionally and physically, for it to do so. Dee knew she had been virtually on the point of orgasm even before Hugo had entered her, and he had been almost as close to the edge of his own self-control.
Dee had barely felt the first quivering explosion of her own completion when Hugo cried out her name, the hot, fierce pulse of his ejaculation drenching her body with a fiercely sweet burst of pleasure.
She was, Dee discovered seconds later as she relaxed into his arms, crooning happily in delighted pleasure, making soft cooing sounds of love to Hugo as he held her.
‘It will be better next time,’ she heard him promising her as he smoothed back her hair and kissed her tenderly. ‘I’ll make it last longer and—’
