SILK WICKEDNESS 26

His voice was low and husky, and she knew exactly what he was going to say. Not, Are you sure you want this? He could hardly be in any doubt.

‘I don’t have anything,’ he whispered. ‘Is it -?’

‘It’s all right,’ she whispered back. ‘It’s fine.’

From then on she was swept along in a red mist of urgency. Everything happened in a confusion of heat and need: his mouth on her nipples, the hot line his lips traced from breasts to thighs as he slid her bikini pants to her ankles, the shudder of ecstasy as his tongue probed fleet- ingly between her thighs.

Then they were on the bed, her fingers frantic as she helped him get rid of his shirt. But when she groped for the fastening of his shorts he stopped her

‘Don’t be in such a hurry.’ He took her wrists and held them, but his rough whisper only betrayed his own suppressed urgency. ‘Wait a little.’

It was like asking her to wait for oxygen, but he made her. He tortured her with waiting, as his lips and tongue teased and sucked and flickered over