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“C’mon, let’s get changed. We can watch a decorating show together,” he says, and reaches for the buttons of my shirt, slipping the first through its tiny slit. Then the next. I feel my breathing go ragged as I look down and watch his large fingers undressing me. I allow him to continue until he peels away the wet shirt from my skin. It falls with a wet smack to the floor. I look up and our eyes lock.
In the time it takes a single streak of lightning from the storm to lick through the sky behind us, our souls hold a private conclave. Requests are made, permissions are granted, boundaries are removed, consent is given and it’s done. And I am undone.
His hands cup my face and his body moves closer to kiss me. His lips are light and sweet. His tongue forces my lips apart and he delves inside my mouth, tasting of sweet wine and apples.
My hand strokes the back of his head and my fingers splay out through his wet hair. Gradually, smoothly, he unclasps my bra at my back. Cool air breezes past when he drags it over my shoulders and it, too, joins my top in the puddle on the floor. His fingers move to slip the button of my shorts loose and then tug easily at the short zipper. Thick thumbs hook into my waistband, sliding my shorts and panties down to my ankles in one slippery wet moment. I’m naked, chilled and burning at the same time.
Our mouths come together again as I pull at the hem of his T-shirt. He’s too tall for me to undress standing up. He tugs his wet shirt up and over his head while I loosen the button and fly of his tan cargo shorts, watching as his stiff erection springs out toward me in eager anticipation. Christ, he goes commando? My Inner Sex Goddess already has her legs spread for the lion.
“Go to bed,” he commands. And like before, I readily comply to the commands that I know are really his pleas for me to let go and let him make love to me. Tonight, I will face down my fears with the strength of a lion and let him. Oh, will I let him!
I stretch out on the bed and watch the silhouette of him enter the small sleeping area at the back of the camper. He’s holding something small in one hand that I can’t make out. Perhaps its the box of condoms?
“Condoms?” I ask nodding imperceptibly to his hand.
“No. Do you want them?” His voice is ragged and desperate.
“No. I have a patch, but if you …”
“You’re safe with me, Raven.” His voice is just above me as his body looms closer. He kneels over me on the bed. “I promise.”
“I know,” I say as I loop my wrists around his neck and draw him down for a long, wet kiss.
His lips are on mine, his tongue, his hands all roving and touching. Tweaking, twisting, licking, sucking. My mind empties and I’m struggling to keep up with how he’s taking me mind, body and soul. I close my eyes and try to feel him on me, but he’s everywhere. His hands touch and stroke, bringing more of the wetness from inside me, which he spreads over the cleft between my spread legs. His mouth, hungry and urgent, suckles at my breasts and then devours my breath from my lips. I feel dizzy and dreamy.
“Raven,” his voice vibrates next to my ear. His tongue licks the shell and he nibbles a tender place just below it that sends chills racing over my skin quicker than the lightning flashes outside and pounding of my heart within. Heavy sheets of rain drum on the roof and drown out the sound of its hammering.
“Are you all right, Little Bird?” His breath is heavy and scattered and I can hear the tension of his voice. “You have to breathe.”
“Yes. Yes!” I try my best to breathe. His lips are on my nipples again, and I’m absolutely sure now that a woman can orgasm from being touched and kissed here because I’m about to. My body explodes and I cry out. Connor’s body half lifts from mine and his fingers stroke lightly at my cheek. The sensation is brief, but powerful, and I recover quickly. Looking up, I see his bright shining eyes staring down into mine.
“Raven, did you just come?” His voice is breathy and feels so far away from me now. I can’t feel his heat of it on my skin. He’s moving away. I’ve done something wrong. I am helpless to stop it. Embarrassment and panic begin to creep over my skin in a warm rush. I’m grateful it’s dark and he can’t see the pink stain on my skin. I am too needy, too desperate for him. Is that a turnoff? Oh God, I’ve let my eagerness ruin everything. I don’t want that. I want more. I fumble to find the words that will bring us back to that moment just a few seconds ago when everything was flame and heat and … so damn good.
“I’m sorry,” is all my pitiful brain can come up with. I close my eyes and hope it will be enough.
“Sorry? Shit, don’t be sorry.” I feel his fingers and thumb pinch my chin and hold my face to meet his eyes. “Look at me, Little Bird.” When I do, he continues, “That’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced. You have no idea how wonderful you are, do you? Damn, Raven, you’re amazing, absolutely incredible.”
“I didn’t think … it’s just you were touching me, and kissing me and I just … I just …”
“Exactly, Raven. It was perfect, baby. I loved it. I want you to feel safe letting go with me. I want this to feel good for you.”
“Connor, I …” I stop talking. I want him and I fear him. But the desire is far outweighing the fear. For one night of him with me, I’ll suffer through the pain of it. I crave his touch, the feel of him inside me so powerfully no other thought can even inhabit my brain. This cannot stop. Not yet.
“Youaresafe with me, Raven. Just tell me what you want.” His voice is slow, soft and feels like a warm breeze against my heart.
“You. I want you. So much.” My lip trembles, working to control the tide of lust and need coursing through my veins. That one taste of pleasure wasn’t enough. I want more. I need more. I’m an addict to the drug that is his mouth, his hands and his words.
I feel his fingers play lightly at my entrance again. A finger traces the tiny opening that is the door into my body, into my heart. It slips in and I brace for the pain of the invasion, but it doesn’t come.
“Is this all right?” His movements are delicate but sure. All I feel is pleasure.
I nod. “Um-hmm.”
A second finger joins the first and they probe further inside, spreading me slightly. The pressure is bliss. I let my legs fall apart a bit more. I want him to know I want more. I want it all.
“You’re so tiny inside, Little Bird. I’m scared I’m going to hurt you.”
“Just go slow, OK?” I breathe and force my breath to try to sound steady and even. I fail miserably. My body craves him with a hunger I can’t identify or describe except to keep repeating that I want him. Want. No. It’s so much more than that. So. Much. More.
