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It was a shock to feel his arms coming round her, pulling her back against him, his mouth warm against her ear as he told her, ‘I’m sorry… I feel like a raw kid again, desperate to prove how much of a man I am and instead proving only that I haven’t got an ounce of self-control.
‘It’s all these weeks of celibacy without you. Can we try again?’ he asked her softly. ‘And this time I promise I’ll do my best to hold on at least until I’m inside you…’
When she realised what he had said, Deborah turned round in his arms.
‘Blame it on the pleasure of being back here with you,’ Mark murmured against her mouth. ‘On the need I have for you. Oh, Deborah… I could make love to you all night long and still want you…’
Despite the fact that her body was trembling as it recognised the passion and desire in his voice, she still laughed, albeit a little shakily.
‘Not on recent evidence, you couldn’t,’ she teased him.
‘Oh, no?’
Her breath caught in her throat as Mark took her hand and placed it on his body. Beneath her fingers his flesh felt silky hot and familiar. She had missed him so much… The feel of his body next to her own, the scent and taste of him, the strength of him inside her… her mouth curled in a small secret smile.
‘What is it?’ Mark asked her.
‘Nothing,’ she told him.
When it came to showing off in the showers she suspected that Ryan would definitely lose out to Mark. Quite definitely.
She held him firmly, caressing him with the slow, sure strokes she knew pleased him best, feeling her own body’s excitement grow to match his, sensuously anticipating the pleasure of having him inside her, her body quickening as she urged him not to wait any longer.
Her climax was quick and intense, over almost before she had had time to appreciate it, but Mark knew her well enough to know her needs without her having to voice them.
It had been so long since they had made love like this, she thought drowsily as she felt the warm drift of his mouth moving teasingly over her stomach—spending so much time indulging in all the small erotic pleasures of love-play. Lying together, sometimes simply kissing and gently touching just for the pleasure of breathing in one another’s scent, of tasting one another’s skin.
She couldn’t imagine ever having a more perfect lover than Mark. He was so attuned to her needs… to her moods, so aware of every small nuance of her body’s silent communication with his.
They made love again and this time Deborah was unusually silent, clinging to him, fiercely protective of the pleasure he was giving her and her own vulnerability to it, aching already with the pain of knowing that it couldn’t last.
* * *
Mark woke up abruptly. The bedroom was in darkness but he could still see Deborah’s silent figure standing by the window.
He got out of bed, swinging his feet to the floor and padding over to join her.
Deborah tensed as she felt him touch her. She had woken up over an hour ago, curled up against him, warm, relaxed, content, happy, and her mouth had curled into a soft smile of pleasure as she’d reached out to stroke her fingertips down his arm in a soft caress of loving possession… and then she’d remembered…
‘What is it?’ Mark asked her. She stiffened as he drew her back against him but he ignored her resistance, wrapping his arms round her, holding her in the warmth of his body.
‘You’re cold,’ he told her. ‘Come back to bed…’
Deborah shook her head. She could feel the tears burning behind her eyes, and she didn’t want to Mark to see her crying.
‘This doesn’t make any difference, Mark,’ she told him painfully. ‘What happened between us tonight… it doesn’t change anything… I wish to God it could,’ she admitted. ‘I love you and I want you…’
‘And I love and want you,’ Mark assured her roughly.
‘But don’t you see that isn’t enough…? Not any more…’
She felt him stiffen against her.
‘You want me now, Mark… Now, when I’m vulnerable and in need——’
‘What is it… what are you trying to say?’ he interrupted her.
‘That I’m afraid,’ Deborah admitted. ‘Afraid that you only really want me when I’m vulnerable… when I’m dependent and needy. But that isn’t what I want. I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to be your inferior. I’ve seen what that does to women, how it makes them sacrifice themselves… Can’t you see, Mark? I need you to want me… the real me… I need you to want me when things are going well for me… when I’m strong and powerful. I want to share that feeling with you, for you to rejoice in it with me, not turn aw
