His hands settled on her hips, holding her against his erection, letting her get the feel of him; not rushing her, not pressuring her. Just holding her. But Jaz’s body had urgent needs it wanted assuaged and she moved against him in a silent plea for satiation. She had rarely taken the initiative with a partner before. But with Jake she wanted to express her desire for him, to let him know her body ached to be joined to his.
Jaz went for the waistband of his jeans, unsnapping the metal stud and then sliding down his zip. He sucked in air but let her take control. She traced her fingertips over the tented fabric of his underwear, her belly doing a cartwheel when she thought of how potent he was, of how gorgeously turned on he was for her, yet controlling it to make her feel safe. She peeled back his underwear, stroking him skin to skin, flicking her gaze up to his to see how he was reacting to her touch. ‘You like that?’
‘This is getting a little one sided,’ he said, pushing her hand away. ‘Ladies come first according to my rules.’
‘I think I like your rules,’ Jaz said as he carried her to the bed as if she weighed no more than one of the feather pillows.
He placed her down amongst the scented rose petals and then, shucking off his jeans but leaving his underwear in place, he joined her. He helped her out of her trousers but left her knickers on. Not that they hid much from his view. Had that been another subconscious thing on her part, to wear her sexiest underwear?
He traced the seam of her body through the gossamer-sheer lace. ‘Do you have any idea of how long I’ve wanted to do this?’
Jaz shivered as his touch triggered her most secret nerves into a leaping dance of expectation. ‘Me too,’ she said but it was more a gasp of sound as he brought his mouth to her and pressed a kiss to her abdomen just above the line of her knickers.
He slowly peeled the lace down to reveal her womanhood. For once she didn’t feel that twinge of shame at being naked and exposed in front of a man. It was like he was worshiping her body, treating it with the utmost respect with every stroke and glide of his hands.
He put his mouth to her, separating her folds so he could pleasure the most sensitive part of all. She had never been entirely comfortable with being pleasured this way. Occasionally she had been tipsy enough to get through it. But this time she didn’t need the buffer of alcohol. Nor did she need to pretend. The sensations took her by surprise, every nerve pulling tight before exploding in a cascade of sparks that rippled through her body in pulsating waves.
When it was over she let out a breath of pure bliss. ‘Wow. I think that might’ve measured on the Richter scale.’
He stroked a hand down the flank of her thigh in a smooth-as-silk caress. ‘Want to try for a ten?’
Jaz reached for him, surrounding his taut thickness with her fingers. ‘I’d like to see you have some fun first, in the interests of being fair and all.’
He smiled a glinting smile. ‘I can’t argue with that.’
He reached across her to where he’d left his wallet when he’d removed his jeans and took out a condom, dealing with the business of applying it before he came back to her. He moved over her so she was settled in the cradle of his thighs, one of his legs hitched over her hip so she wasn’t taking his whole weight. ‘Not too heavy for you?’ he said. ‘Or would you like to go on top?’
Jaz welcomed the press of his body against hers, the sexy tangle of their limbs sending a frisson of anticipation through her female flesh. ‘No, I like it like this. I don’t like feeling like I’m riding a horse.’
He gave a deep chuckle. ‘I wouldn’t throw you off.’
No, but you’ll cast me off when you’re ready to move on. Jaz pushed the thought aside and ran her hands up his body from his pelvis to his chest and back again. This was for now. A fling she’d wanted since she was a teenager. This was her chance to have what she had always wanted from him: his sole attention, his searing touch, his mind-blowing caresses, and his gorgeously hot body. She knew and understood the rules. There were no promises being made. There was no hope of ‘happy ever after’. It was a mutual lust fest to settle the ache of longing that had started so long ago and had never been sated. It was a way—she rationalised it—to rewrite that night seven years ago. This was what she had wanted from Jake way back then—not to be pawed over by some drunk but to be treated with respect, to be pleasured as well as give it. This was the healing she needed to move on with her life, to reclaim her self-respect and her sexual confidence. ‘I want you,’ she said. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to have sex more than right now.’