“Relax,” he said. He kissed my knuckles and guided my hand away. “Stand up,” he said. “Please. Stand for me. I want to see you in your gown.” I got to my feet and he took the throw from me, and I was standing for him, just me, in my pretty dress, barefoot and nervous as he looked me up and down. “Turn around.”
I turned slowly, taking slow breaths, keeping my eyes on him over my shoulder until he moved forwards. His hands were warm against my back, tracing a path up my spine as he rose to his feet. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pinning my back to his chest, and he brushed my hair to the side, sweeping it clear of my shoulders. And then there was his mouth, his lips… his warm breath on my ear as my skin came alive. I couldn’t stop moaning as he kissed me there, my neck was so tender. Everything tickled and fluttered, and the heat of him was so beautiful, so right. He wrapped my hair around his fingers, and angled me where he wanted me, exploring my skin until I wriggled against him. He nipped at my shoulder, nipped all the way up my throat, and I could feel him smiling, smiling before his tongue found its way in my ear.
“Oh…” I hissed. “Oh, God…”
“Relax,” he breathed, and there was more, his fingers slipping around to cup my breasts, squeezing me through the fabric, and I was so glad Lizzie had convinced me not to wear a bra.
He kissed me forever. He kissed me until my legs were shaking and it wasn’t from the cold, until my stomach was knotted and I could feel my pulse between my thighs. He kissed me until I was moaning for more, until I was liquid nothingness and the fire was burning me up.
He kissed me like he loved me.
He kissed me like I was everything.
And then he stopped.
And I stumbled, I stumbled and dithered and laughed as he pulled the fabric of my dress up over my head. He turned me to face him, and he looked at me, he looked at all of me.
“You’re so beautiful.” He ran his thumbs across my nipples and the sparks that flew through me were amazing. “I hope you believe me.” His palms slid down my waist, fingers hooking inside my knickers. “You’re a beautiful, talented, vivacious young woman, Helen. More beautiful than ever because you have no idea how beautiful you really are.”
I gasped as he peeled the fabric away, and I was wet, my thighs were slippery. I stepped out of my knickers, and I was naked. It felt like a dream. A really good dream.
“I’m going to take you upstairs.”
He kissed my mouth.
“I’m going to take you to my bed.”
He kissed my neck.
“And I’m going to make you mine.”
My tummy fluttered and my whole body ached for him, wanted him.
He led me by the hand, squeezing so tightly as he guided me back through the dining room and up a staircase to the floor above. He didn’t flick the lights on until we were in his bedroom, and it was warm up there. Warm and cosy, with a whole other load of artistic chaos around us. His bed was big and soft and dressed in white, plainer than the rest of the room, but perfect for him. Perfect for us.
He pushed me down until I was sitting on the edge, and then lifted my knees up onto his shoulders. I tipped back naturally, sinking into the bed, and his lips grazed my thigh. He nipped and sucked and teased me, his breath so warm as he meandered his way to my *. I was desperate for him, wriggling and moaning and squirming and aching. A delirious mess of hormones and want.
I jumped a mile as his tongue found my clit. And it was heaven. Pure heaven.
He spread me open and licked me there, and he sucked at delicate places, and his breath was deliciously hot. When he slipped a finger inside me I was ready, but it still made me suck in my breath. He worked it in and out, sucking at my clit as he pushed in another. And I felt full, and tight, and tender. He moved them in and out of me so slowly, sucking on me until I couldn’t take anymore. Until my fingers were in his hair and I was squirming underneath him.
I couldn’t stop looking at him, couldn’t stop staring down at the beautiful sight of him between my legs.
“Oh, God…” I hissed. “That feels… that feels so nice…”
I gripped the sheets as I came, and it didn’t feel like it did when I did it to myself. It was more tickly, hotter, more intense, and after I felt floaty and soft, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I caught my breath as he kissed his way up my body, and everything was ticklish. I laughed as he kissed my tummy, and I felt him smile against my skin.
He lay on the bed and pulled me up towards him, and his fingers slipped back between my legs, teasing my clit as I groaned.
“I want you so much…” I said. “Please…”
I pulled his tie from his neck and cast it aside, and fumbled with his shirt buttons until I reached his skin. I couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t stop watching my fingers touching him. “This is really real…”
He smiled. “This is really real.” He shrugged his shirt off. “And not nearly so impressive as your sketches.”
But he was better. He was so much better than my sketches.