His lips were warm and soft and a small whimper escaped me as he increased the pressure against mine.
Tentatively I let my tongue explore, gently probing his split lip, and he opened his mouth gratefully. I felt his tongue enter and desire swept through me, fanned from small flames into a raging forest fire, greedy and unstoppable.
I gripped his neck with my free hand and slid my fingers from his cheek, down his throat, to his chest.
His hands hovered over my waist, and then locked themselves around me, pulling me tight, closing me in.
Every piece of my carefully constructed restraint was washed away in the flood of unfamiliar sensations.
Abruptly I pulled away from him, my heart thundering, caged by my ribs. Fear reflected itself in his eyes and his arms hung rejected at his sides.
Could I have stopped at that point? Perhaps. A very weak, stillborn perhaps.
I was married, yes, but it wasn’t much of a marriage. Everything I did or said seemed to irritate David: his habitual expression was a frown of sour discontent, a tone of annoyance whenever he spoke to me – perhaps even dislike. If there had once been love between us, it was long gone.
Uncertain of so many things about myself, about my life, I knew that I wanted Sebastian. I wanted him very badly.
My hands fastened around the hem of his sweatshirt, my intention clear. Amazement flickered across his face, followed by a heated passion that I’d never seen, never experienced before.
He raised his arms willingly and I pulled the sweatshirt over his head, letting it drop where it may.
His white T-shirt hugged his chest snugly and I indulged in a moment of sheer pleasure, feeling his muscles through the fabric beneath my bold fingers.
I let my hand drift down to the material’s edge and gently skated my fingers over the smooth, warm skin of his stomach.
He inhaled deeply and rested his hands on my upper arms, his eyes wide and wondering.
I retraced my route upwards, this time my fingers tented under the T-shirt, enjoying the ripple of muscles and the undulations of his now shallow breathing.
I stroked his skin, my eyes still fixed on his, then let my hand steal downwards towards the waistband of his jeans. My fingers drifted around the edge and a shiver ran through him.
Taking a step back, I seized the hem of his T-shirt and ripped it upwards, pulling it over his head, and kneading it in my hands before dropping it to the floor.
I took a deep breath as I allowed my eyes to drink him in; his youth, his beauty, the desire flaring in his eyes. I reached out and hooked one hand into a belt loop and let the other trace the outline of his erection, so evident through the denim.
He swallowed and closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, I took a step forward so my breasts brushed his chest.
One hand reached up to his bruised cheek, the other an adventurer in a foreign land, continued stroking him.
Tentatively his hands crept around my waist, so gently that they barely touched me. I pulled his face down and kissed him again. And this time he kissed me back more urgently, his tongue driving into my mouth, and I felt his hands tightening around me. Encouraged, I slipped my hand inside his jeans and his body tensed. I could feel his heat; his nakedness beneath the denim was doubly arousing. He moaned, a long drawn out sigh of desire.
“Undo my zipper,” I ordered quietly.
Fumbling slightly, he pulled down the zipper of my dress. I shrugged my shoulders, watching with distant surprise as it fluttered to the floor.
For the length of a heartbeat, Sebastian paused, and then he stepped towards me again, his hands moving from my hips to my waist to hover uncertainly over my breasts.
“Yes. Touch me.”