'Not so fast.' I stopped him before he could cut me free. 'You have some unfinished business, Mr Capriccio.' I stared meaningfully at the calligrapher's brush.
'Oh.' He looked at the delightful instrument of torture, then at my glistening sex. 'No, I'm sorry, Kate. You look too delicious. The brush will have to finish you another day.'
He reached into the bedside table. This time he brought out what I expected, and something else as well: a small black jeweller's box whose eye-popping contents sparkled with the clarity of spring water. Jesus. That diamond had to be three carats. He slid the ring on to the third finger of my left hand, where the gold immediately began to warm.
My first response was to coo the way any woman would at the sight of such a rock. I wished I could pull my hands free to admire it. But the ring made the engagement too real - too real and too scary. 'Joe, it's beautiful, but I can't accept it.'
'Yes, you can.' He clambered between my outspread legs and bowed to me, his muscular haunches' rising, the curve of his spine like a reed bending in the wind.
At once I forgot my protests. It had been a long time since I'd felt those silky locks between my thighs. I moaned as his thumbs slid up the petals of my sex, parting me for his kiss.
'Ah, Kate,’ he breathed. 'How could I have forgotten how beautiful you are, like a wet pink seashell?' He ran the tip of his tongue up my clit, lifting it gently, his touch as subtle as the Chinese brush. My hips strained towards his mouth. My wrists tugged the ties that bound them.
'Don't tease me, Joe.'
He repeated the feather-light caress. 'Just a little longer.' He nuzzled closer and sighed. 'You don't know what it does to me to see you squirm. It's been so long.'
Two whole months.'
'Six,’ he corrected, and rose to his knees. His sex stood out from his belly, dramatically thick and proud, every millimetre vibrating with power. He propped his hands on either side of me. 'It's been six months since anyone made me feel whole in bed. I need to take you, Kate.' He shifted and the tip of his cock probed my curls. ‘I need to take all of you.'
'Then do,’ I said, 'and please hurry.'
He grinned, still hovering on the brink of penetration. He lifted the scissors from the pillow beside my head. 'Shall I cut you free first?'
'Oh, yes. Yes, please.'
I wrapped him close as he sank inside with one long, humming, quivering push. My hands roamed his back, loving the furrow of his spine, the fans of muscle at his sides. His breath came in anguished pants. He coaxed my thighs wider with a gentle caress. My calves squeezed him home the final inch.
He closed his eyes in blind pleasure, then opened them and kissed me softly on the lips.
Still and speechless, we throbbed together - our hearts displaced to that intimate juncture of yin and yang.
'You've got to move,' I said, though I, too, loved the hanging pause. 'I can't bear it.'
'Yes,' he said, drawing back and sinking again. 'Yes.'
There were no more words then, only sighs and moans and bodies slapping together with ever increasing fervour. The bed creaked. Joe gripped desperate fistfuls of the navy coverlet. Oh, the noises he made, as though I were stabbing him with that long, smooth spear. Sweet pain. Sweet union. The miracle of body contained in body. Could we ever get close enough? We lunged in sync to double our separate strength. We groaned together. We sobbed for air.
'Now,' I said, soaring through the ache and wanting him with me. 'Now, now.'
But he wouldn't let go. His face twisted as my spasms gripped him. He drove through the juicy internal convulsions, blinking sweat from his eyes.
'Again,' he said, and he changed angles, pumping the sweet spot behind my pubis. 'Let me feel you come again.
I guess he wanted proof of how much I loved him, how much my body loved him. Or maybe he needed to show himself master in this, as well - master of himself.
'Joe,' I began, but the plea was lost in a second rippling crescendo. My spine arched off the bed. My nails scored his back. I didn't want to hurt him, but I literally couldn't control myself.
'Good, Kate, good,' he panted. He rose up on his arms, locked his elbows and quickened his thrusts.
I knew he couldn't continue this way. A vein pulsed at his temple. His lips drew back in a snarl.
'Joe, please,' I begged. 'Please, love, come.'
'One more,' he gritted out. 'One more. Ah, God.'
Then he jolted inside me, coming, shaking, moaning
so loudly the sound alone drew the one more he craved from the depths of my sex.
We cried out in unison. We clutched each other like sailors swept overboard in a storm, dying the little death, taking our first step into a new life.
My heart took a long time to settle back to normal. As it slowed, I looked inside myself, trying to determine what I felt - light-headed, mostly, or maybe just light, as though I'd set down a burden I'd been carrying a long time, a solitary burden.