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In a heartbeat, her doubts were forgotten. His hunger was her hunger. Only it was more than hunger. It was like being consumed by fire—total and complete surrender to the flame of passion that burned between them.
She stared up into his face. ‘Kiss me,’ she whispered.
His eyes on hers were the dark green of the forest across the water and, leaning forward, he kissed her slowly, his tongue probing between her lips, delicate and deliberate, so that heat stabbed inside her.
‘Open your mouth,’ he muttered. ‘I want to taste you.’
He was barely breathing, his head empty and hollow of anything except the pulse beating in his groin.
As the late afternoon sun spread over the deck, liquid gold spilled over her skin and he felt his last atom of self-control dissolve.
He dipped his head, dipped and licked inside her mouth, his teeth nipping, tugging her swollen lips. And, moaning softly, she kissed him back, her fingers digging into his scalp, pulling him closer and deeper until he broke away panting, his eyes blunt and unfocused.
For a moment he stared at her in silence, dazed, dry-mouthed, almost drunk on her beauty, then slowly he cupped her breast in his hand, his thumb brushing against the tip of her nipple, and the blood gathered thickly inside him as he watched her face soften.
Daisy shuddered. A thread of heat was stretching out inside her and suddenly she was arching upwards, her thighs trembling. She felt him push aside the flimsy fabric of her bra, felt his mouth closing over her breast and then his fingers were slipping over her body, across her stomach and hips and between her legs, clasping the pulsing ache against the palm of his hand.
Her breath thickened in her throat. Suddenly she was clawing at his belt, her nails scraping against the denim of his jeans, tugging the zip down, her whole body vibrating with need as her fingers found the smooth hardness of his erection.
At the touch of her hand his body jerked involuntarily and groaning, he lifted his mouth and shifted against her, reaching into his pocket for a condom, fingers tearing clumsily at the wrapper. And then he was smoothing it on, feeling himself grow thicker and harder.
Maddened, she clutched at him frantically, her back curving upwards, seeking more of his mouth and his hands, as he tugged her underwear to one side. The weight of his body was pressing down on her and into her and she rocked against him, her face buried in his shoulder, the pulse inside her beating wildly.
He shifted his hips and she felt a sharp sting of ecstasy and tensing, she shuddered against him. And then his mouth found hers and, groaning her name against her lips, he pushed up, driving into her hard and fast while her body still contracted around his.
* * *
Later, bodies still entwined, they watched a rose-coloured sun sink behind the mountains. Breathing out softly, Daisy ran her hand lightly over his stomach.
‘This place is so remote. How did you come across it?’
‘I did a deal a few years ago with a guy called Tim Buchanan. He and I enjoyed the same kind of activities, so he invited me up here for a weekend.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Activities! Sounds intriguing!’ She gave him a small teasing smile. ‘You’re not one of those role play fanatics, are you? You know—the kind who re-enact the Civil War. I won’t come out of the shower and find you dressed as Abraham Lincoln, will I?’
His eyes gleamed. ‘I meant shooting and fishing. But I’m always up for a bit of role play.’
His fingers tiptoed over the curve of her hip and a hot shiver slid over her skin, her body responding both to his touch and the teasing note in his voice. ‘Well, let me know and I’ll unpack my crinoline,’ she said lightly.
Glancing back across the lake, she sighed.
‘You’re so lucky it was for sale.’
‘It wasn’t. But I liked it, so I made him an offer and he accepted.’
She nodded, as though she too was in the habit of purchasing lakeside mansions on a whim.
‘Your family must love it.’
Even before she heard the edge in his voice she could feel a slight tensing in his shoulders.
‘I’m sure they would have done. But both my parents are gone.’
How had she not known that? He knew all about her family. But somehow his past had never come up for discussion. Or maybe he had chosen to keep it to himself.
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
And she was. The thought of losing one of her parents filled her with dread—to lose both seemed intolerable.
