And then there were the flowers he’d sent today. And then at dinner, she had enjoyed their conversation where not only had he shared how his day had gone, but had given her a lot of interesting information about his homeland. This weekend he had offered to take her sailing on his father’s yacht. She was looking forward to that.
While sitting across from him during dinner, every little thing had boosted up her desire for him. She couldn’t wait to return here to be alone with him. It could be the way he would smile at her over the rim of his wineglass, or the way he would reach across the table and touch her hand on occasion for no reason at all. They had ordered different entrées and he had hand-fed her some of his when she was curious as to how his meal tasted.
Callum returned and she watched as he placed all the items on the small table beside her. The patio was dark, except for the light coming in from the kitchen and the moonlight overhead. They had eaten breakfast on the patio this morning and she knew there wasn’t a single building on either side of them, just the ocean.
He pulled a small stool over to where she lay on her back, staring up at him. “When will you be my dessert?” she tried asking in a calm voice, but found that to be difficult when she felt her stomach churning.
“Whenever you want. Just ask. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
He’d been telling her that so much that she was beginning to believe it. “The ocean sounds so peaceful and relaxing. You’d better hope I don’t fall asleep,” she warned.
“If you do, I’ll wake you.”
She looked up at him, met his gaze and felt his heat. She’d told him last night there were no limitations. There still weren’t. It had taken her twenty-four years to get to this point and she intended to enjoy it for all it was worth. Callum was making this a wonderful experience for her and she appreciated him for being fascinating as well as creative.
He moved off the stool just long enough to lean over her to remove her panties. “Nice pair,” he said, while easing the silky material down her thighs and legs.
“Glad you like them.”
“I like them off you even better,” he said, balling them up and standing to put them into the back pocket of his jeans. “Now for my dessert.”
“Enjoy yourself.”
“I will, sweetheart.”
It seemed that her entire body responded to his use of that endearment. He meant nothing by it—she was certain of it. But still, she couldn’t help how rapidly her heart was beating from hearing it and how her stomach was fluttering in response to it.
While she lay there, she watched as Callum removed his shirt and tossed it aside before returning to his stool. He leaned close and she was tempted to reach out and run her fingertips across his naked chest, but then decided she wouldn’t do that. This was his fantasy. He’d fulfilled hers last night.
“Now for something sweet, like you,” he said, and she nearly jumped when she felt a warm, thick substance being smeared over her chest with his fingers and hands in a sensual and erotic pattern. When he moved to her stomach the muscles tightened as he continued rubbing the substance all over her belly, as if he was painting a design on her.
“What is it?”
“My name.”
His voice was husky and in the moonlight she saw his tense features, the darkness of the eyes staring back at her, the sexy line of his mouth. All she could do was lie there and stare up at him speechlessly, trying to make sense of what he said. He was placing his name on her stomach as if he was branding her as his. She forced the thought from her mind, knowing he didn’t mean anything by it.
“How does it feel?” he asked as his hand continued spreading chocolate syrup all over her.
“The chocolate feels sticky, but your hands feel good,” she said honestly. He had moved his hands down past her stomach to her thighs.
He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just continued to do what he was doing.
“And this is your fantasy?” she asked.