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She moaned his name again, and it was all he could do not to wrap her legs around his hips and bury deep himself inside her. She was going to be the death of him.
He thought she probably already had been.
And then Lukas began to stroke her. Taking his time. Long, slow sweeps designed to build the tension slowly, no matter how much his hungry bride bucked against his hand.
She was breathing harder now. Choppy, ragged little sounds that made his own sex ache all the more. He couldn’t remember anything ever being hotter than this. Never.
Carefully, he built the pace. Alternating between his mouth on her breasts, where he paid attention to one hardened nipple and then the other, to his hand between her legs. Setting the rhythm for her to follow, every breathtaking inch of her responding perfectly to his touch, he built her up, and up, until he could feel her racing towards that peak.
With a final twist of his hand that felt as though he’d been perfecting it just for this moment with her, Lukas sent his new bride soaring. Her head tipped back as she came apart against his hand. Shattering in his arms.
‘My beautiful wife...’ The words slipped out before he could bite them back, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to care the way he should.
Oti was all he’d never realised he wanted, and he felt wonderfully lost in her. So lost that he almost missed the voices approaching the shower block.
‘Hold still,’ he commanded quietly, not letting Oti go, even as he reached behind him and pulled the shower curt
ain closed.
He’d been so lost in her that he hadn’t even thought to do it sooner. He couldn’t imagine any other woman making him this out of control. This fervent. Only her.
Only ever her.
A few moments and the newcomers would be in their respective cubicles, leaving it free for him and Oti to make their escape. It was surprising how silly and youthful he felt. It had been so long since he’d been that way. Had he ever been that way? Now he thought about it, perhaps not.
He’d begun taking care of his mother from such an early age that the usual schoolkid pranks and fun had bypassed him completely. And then he’d been so busy building up his business that there hadn’t been time for frivolity.
Yet Oti made him feel fun. And youthful. It occurred to Lukas that maybe he needed a little more of this in his life.
A little more Oti.
A few moments later and he heard first one shower start up and then another. Carefully peering out to ensure the coast was clear, he sent his wide-eyed bride on her way back to their tukul, waiting a minute or so longer for the sake of appearance before following.
* * *
Oti stood hesitantly by the side of the bed, waiting for Lukas to follow her. Was their intimacy over, or was she supposed to wait for him? Her whole body still seared from his touch, and a part of her was terrified that he might have changed his mind in the moments between the shower block and their hut.
She had never, ever done anything that crazy before, and she’d never wanted to—though she’d never judged any of the other volunteers who might have bed—or shower—hopped over the years. It wasn’t a daily occurrence, though it was common enough. They might be out here to try to do good work, but they were still red-blooded young men and women at the end of the day.
And all she wanted now was to be back in their bed. Truth be told, she’d never really wanted to leave it after their first night together. But she’d been frightened. Scared off by the intensity of her feelings for him. Now it occurred to Oti that if she wanted him she could always stop waiting for him to come to her. She could take more charge over her own destiny.
With a deep, steadying sigh, Oti pushed open the mosquito net and climbed onto the bed, her pulse racing. Moments later, Lukas crashed through the door and as he looked at her on the middle of the king-size bed she held her breath.
‘Stay there,’ he commanded, his voice low and rough because she affected him too much.
‘I wasn’t going anywhere,’ she told him solemnly.
She wasn’t entirely sure where that had come from; she only knew that she liked the effect it had on her husband. More than liked it.
His eyes were almost black with desire as he stripped off his shorts with ruthless efficiency, then sprang up as proud and magnificent as she remembered. Oti heard her own reverent sigh, and her mouth was suddenly parched.
She paused, a kind of wildness scrambling in her chest, and then he was climbing onto the bed next to her, scooping his arms around and flipping her flat onto her back before she realised what was happening.
This was what she’d been waiting for.
This was...
Abruptly, he stopped, and her eyes flew open.
