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‘Wicked woman,’ he rasped, drawing up his knee to push his heavy thigh across both of hers, trapping the restless shifting of her legs.
‘You make me feel wicked,’ she murmured, revelling in his teasing admiration. Confession was supposed to be good for the soul, but spilling her heart out to Ethan had also liberated her mind and body. Unburdened of the need to guard her every look and word, she experienced a soaring sense of freedom, the freedom to stop fighting her feelings and embrace the powerful attraction that had threatened to test her to the limits of her love and loyalty. Now, nothing stood in the way of exploring this exhilarating new pleasure, and perhaps finding something even more precious than anything she had lost…
Emily willingly gave up her mouth to another plundering kiss, and when Ethan broke it off in slow increments she realised he had already unsnapped her bra and peeled back the cups to expose her opulent breasts to the hot caress of the sun and even hotter stroke of his sultry eyes. She struggled to unbutton the rest of the blouse, pulled breathtakingly tight over her ribs, but he caught her hand and drew it back.
‘No, not yet…I like the way it makes a lovely red frame for your pale, pretty skin,’ he said thickly, placing her hand against his chest so that her palm absorbed the impact of his kicking heart. It accelerated again as he reached over and scooped up a handful of rose petals off the grass, compressing them in his fist before letting them trickle down across her naked breasts.
‘Deep Secret,’ he quoted with a devilish smile, watching in fascination as the dark crimson petals of his favourite rose drifted down to settle with feather-light gentleness on the two luscious mounds with their ruched pink crests. He stirred the nestling petals with his fingertips, and massaged them into her skin, crushing and rolling them into her swollen flesh and bending his head to inhale her unique, womanly fragrance.
‘Now you smell just like a sun-warmed rosebud on the brink of opening…’ he brushed his lips lightly up the rise of her breasts ‘…and feel as velvety as an unfurled petal…and I bet you taste of roses, too…’ His mouth closed at last over her yearning nipple, shaping it with his tongue and rolling it against the slick hardness of his palate, drawing it deeper with a lusty growl and suckling with rich enjoyment.
The blue sky whirled dizzyingly overhead in Emily’s pleasure-blinded eyes, the sunlight splintering into a kaleidoscope of piercing delight as Ethan cupped her other breast and guided it to his mouth, lapping with smooth, long strokes at the neglected peak until it glistened, inviting him to bite into its succulent ripeness and suck out the sweetness with quick, strong tugs that sent pulsing electric shocks streaking into her womb.
Hot, violent sensations tumbled through her body and Emily fought for a measure of control, her hands raking down his tapering sides and up under the thin polo shirt, to splay over the rippling musculature of his back as he moved his hips insistently against her flank, the knee lying across her legs twisting to sink between her thighs, forcing them apart.
Emily let slip a thready moan, and his mouth left her exquisitely sensitised breasts to feast on her helpless gasps of excitement.
‘Are you going to unfurl for me now, Little Flower?’ he murmured, and any illusion she had had of gaining control over the storming sensation was destroyed as she felt his hand glide down over her still-zinging belly button and slip under the loose band of her jeans, his inquisitive fingers finding the elastic band of her cotton bikini panties and the small embroidery flower that marked the centre front.
He chuckled as he flicked it with his finger. ‘A rose?’ he asked huskily.
‘A daisy,’ she panted, in the grip of a heated distraction. ‘Sorry to be so prosaic…’
Another laugh vibrated against her lips. ‘Not prosaic…a sexy wildflower, natural and free.’ His thumb brushed under the elastic and into the soft, silky-warm nest.
‘I see you match top-and-tail…you have cute little curls down here, too.’ She heard the smile in his voice as he combed his fingers through the little triangle, tugging at it with an erotic gentleness that made her give another of the small gasps that he found so arousing.
Determined to redress the vast imbalance of power, Emily swept her hands down into the small of his back, her short nails digging into the twin indentations at the base of his spine as she sought the bare skin of his taut buttocks. She felt him shudder at the scrape of her nails and twisted to nip at the side of his strong throat, using her tongue to suckle at the wound, revelling in his hoarsened breathing, and making a sound of feverish frustration when her roving hands were thwarted in their attempt to burrow under the constricted fabric cutting across the back of his hips.
‘You’re going to unman me if you pull that any tighter,’ he ground out, shifting his body so that she could feel the solid thrust of his swollen shaft against her upper thigh.
The gentle fingers toying with her curls extended and flexed, curving over the hot, moist bud at the tip of her sheath and dipping lightly into her wet satin core.
Every nerve and sinew and cell in her body tightened with shock and Emily’s body teetered on the brink of an explosion, but suddenly Ethan was tearing himself away from her with a smothered curse, to collapse on his back on the grass beside her.
‘What’s the matter?’ she said raggedly, bewildered by his violent withdrawal, afraid from his agonised stiffness that he was having some kind of attack…or was it another kind of spasm he was having? she wondered, her furtive gaze flicking down to a tiny damp spot on the front of his trousers. But no, the thick outline of his strong arousal still tented the fabric.
Ethan had thrown his upper arm over his eyes, masking the top half of his face. ‘Brothers!’ he groaned.
For a moment Emily’s sensual overload continued to triumph over her mental awareness, and then to her horror she heard Dylan’s voice floa
ting out from the verandah, in a conversational sing-song that suggested he had been calling for some time.
‘Emily! Eth-an! Are you down in that damned thorn-garden somewhere? I don’t know where else you can be…’
Emily jackknifed to her knees, scrabbling frantically for the trailing cups of her bra, tugging them over her bouncing, blushing breasts. Ethan made no attempt to aid her panicked attempts to straighten her clothing, propping himself up on an elbow, watching with savage satisfaction as her shaking hands tried and failed to do up her bra and buttons. Muttering under her breath, she forced herself to slow down as Dylan continued to pace, now almost directly overhead.
Ethan started to climb to his feet and she dragged him down with a furious hiss.
‘Wait, don’t do that—he’ll see you!!’
‘That’s the idea. Or do you want him coming down here to find us?’
He grinned as she stared in dismay at the outline of their writhing bodies mashed into the soft, thick, perfectly mown lawn and quickly began crawling around, sweeping her hands over it, trying in vain to fluff it back up to its previous uncrushed state.
And while she was frantically doing up buttons and combing rose petals out of her hair, Ethan was calmly standing to wave up towards the house.
‘Looking for us?’ he called.
