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He sucked in air and her nipples tightened to bullets, but as to which one came first, she couldn’t possibly tell. Then with a sweep of his hands the scrap of matching fabric that was her panties was gone too.
‘Magnificent,’ he said, and Holly was glad she had decided that it should be tonight with this man, because this man, with his knowledge of the world, with his film-star good looks and sexy accent, would make her first time something special, something to remember on the long nights to come after he was gone.
He drew her into the steaming water and that was another revelation. He squirted bath gel in his hands and surprised her by using it on her, slippery fingers on slippery skin, and everywhere he touched was alive and wanting.
He squirted gel into her hands to use on him, and she relished the chance to explore his body this way, mapping him with her hands, finding the places that made him growl, discovering the places that made him grab her wrist and made her wait.
She loved discovering those places most of all.
‘What’s this?’ she said, curious as her fingers traced the long ridge of scar tissue at his side.
‘Nothing,’ he said, his hand at her wrist, pulling it away.
She didn’t have time to wonder. Because now that the gel had done its work and the wine was gone from their skin and the stickiness from their hair, he used his tongue and mouth on her clean skin. She gasped when he backed her against the shower wall and blistered a trail of kisses down her throat to her breasts. She sighed as she closed her eyes and gave herself up to pleasure. She had never known the simple pleasure of a man taking her nipple in his mouth, a hot tongue circling that tight bud. She had never known of the link between nipples and that aching place between her thighs. She had never imagined the erotic pleasure of a man’s tongue at her belly or how her legs could seem so restless and wanting to part.
No, needing to part.
And then his head dipped even lower and her head hit the wall behind her.
Oh, God, surely not that.
Her senses were at fever pitch. Nobody—but nobody—had ever touched her there, and he was going to with his …
His fingers gently parted her and, ‘Oh, God!’
His tongue flicked hot and hard against a tiny nub of flesh that seemed to hold an entire warehouse of nerve endings and it was as if he’d just provoked every one into life.
Oh, God.
And then he swiped her again and she wished she was lying down, because all the sensation in her body was centred there and there was nothing left to make sure her knees would work.
She planted her hands in his hair, her fingers tangling in his waves, clutching him as he played her, flicking and circling, circling and flicking, needing stability in a world not only teetering on its axis, but flashing in bright colours.
The water cascaded over them, steam enveloped them and the temperature built to fever pitch and she wished he would stop but she wanted more, and he gave her more, with his lips around that exquisitely tight bud of nerve endings, sucking, inviting, and she cursed that weapon of sinful seduction that was his mouth.
Cursed it and blessed it as the colours intensified and the world teetered some more, and she hovered on an exquisite edge of nowhere.
Until she felt his hand—there—and the press of a searching fingertip at her core, felt the push and slide of intrusion and the strange unworldliness of it, and the strange auto-clenching answer of her muscles.
He seemed to hesitate then, his mouth stilled on her most secret of places, but it was already too late, her muscles already constricting, the colours brightening and the world already spinning out of control and there was no stopping them.
The orgasm slammed into her and cracked her head back hard against the wall. She didn’t feel a thing. All her feelings were centred on the series of tidal waves that burst from her core and slammed into every part of her, leaving her limp and dazed and her body humming. And she was glad Franco was there to hold her, or she might have otherwise slid to the floor in a sodden, strength-obliterated mess.
She sagged against him like a rag doll as he turned off the taps, still too dazed to speak, still buzzing with the discovery that such pleasure existed, exquisite and intense, and the wonderment that if he had done that with his mouth, how would it feel to have him inside her?
He wrapped her in fluffy towels and lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed in the next room.
Soon she would find out.
He dropped her on the bed a little more unceremoniously than she would have preferred. And then he turned and headed straight back to the bathroom.
Through the open door she could see him give himself a quick rub-down with a towel before flinging it on the floor, and pulling on his underwear. A cold fear gripped her heart and woke her from her daze.
