Mission: Make-Over

‘Do you know what you’re doing to me?’ he asked Lucianna rawly. ‘Do you know what you’re making me want to do to you?’

‘Show me,’ Lucianna urged him in response. ‘Show me, tell me…teach me, Jake.’

The look she gave him to accompany her words as she gazed limply and longingly into his eyes was pure feminine seduction and Jake had no defences against it.

‘Luce…’ he protested hoarsely. ‘I…’

‘Take off your clothes, Jake,’ Lucianna whispered to him. ‘I want to see you—all of you,’ she told him pleadingly, her face and then her whole body suffused by a tell-tale rosy glow as it reflected her inner shock at her vocal boldness, even if the words she had spoken were the truth and did reflect the longing, the need that was pulsing through her.

Just for a moment Jake hesitated, and then he saw the way she looked at him and the way her mouth trembled.

Very gently he laid her down on the bed, and then, slowly, he started to remove his own clothes, keeping his glance locked on hers, ready to r

egister the first millisecond that her expression changed, that she betrayed any desire to change her mind.

It never came, and when Jake’s hand stilled over the belt of his chinos Lucianna couldn’t quite prevent herself from giving a small feminine sound of protest and demand.

She had seen Jake’s body before, of course—well, most of it at any rate. As a child she had swum uninhibited with her brothers and Jake in the river that ran through both their properties, and it had only been after her disastrous experiment with her sexuality as a young teenager that she had become reluctant to join the others when they went swimming.

But she had seen Jake working in the field often enough with David, stripped to the waist, wearing an old, faded pair of shorts, and she knew already the broad outline of his torso with its soft covering of dark hair, although she had never before experienced this urge to reach out and touch it…touch him, to bury her fingertips, her mouth in its male softness and nuzzle the flesh it covered. And she had most certainly never before experienced this dangerous, heart-stopping, breath-stealing sense of aching sensual excitement and urgency as she waited for him to remove the rest of his clothes. The sexuality of a man’s body had never been something that had caused her any missed heartbeats in the past, and it had certainly never caused her to feel the way she was feeling right now.

As he removed the last of his clothes, Jake turned slightly away from her, but immediately Lucianna put out her hand to stop him, her eyes betraying her emotions when he obeyed her silent demand and slid them away from his body, allowing her to see the full maleness of him.

He heard her swiftly indrawn breath, saw the way her eyes widened, almost felt the compulsive shudder that gripped her body, but it was too late now to hide himself from her, and for some reason her soft, slightly shocked but totally awed ‘Jake’ caused a sharp flare of anger within himself and against himself that manifested itself in an unintentionally harsh retort.

‘What is it? What’s wrong? You’ve seen a man before, haven’t you?’

‘Not one like you,’ Lucianna told him honestly, her voice wobbling slightly. ‘Not like this!’

‘Oh, Luce….’ Jake said, torn between laughter and the sharp unexpectedness of tears as he reached out to take her in his arms and hold her comfortingly. He told her gruffly, ‘You’re not supposed to say things like that to a man. It gives us too big an ego,’ he explained, and then added with wry self-mockery, ‘Never mind what it does to us physically…’

‘Physically?’ Lucianna asked him puzzled.

‘I want you,’ he told her frankly, framing her face in his hands, ‘but you’ve never had a man before…and…’

Instantly Lucianna took umbrage.

‘How do you know that?’ she demanded.

‘You told me…or as good as,’ Jake told her dryly. And besides, he added silently, how could he tell her that everything about the way she was responding to him, unaware of just how strongly she was affecting him, pointed to her lack of sexual experience? But the man she really wanted wasn’t him, and he knew that even if she, no doubt caught up in the powerful flood of her discovery of her own sexuality, seemed to have momentarily forgotten it.

Lucianna looked at him.

‘But I want one now,’ she told him truthfully. ‘I want you, Jake.’ And before he could stop her she leaned forward and touched his body, touched him, her fingertips as delicate as a butterfly’s wing against his tautly aching flesh but as destructive to his self-control as a sledgehammer.

He heard himself groan, wanted to draw back from her, and yet, as though a part of himself were standing outside himself watching him, powerless to control him or what was happening, he reached out for her, kissing her mouth gently and then less gently. He caressed her body with his hands as he slowly removed the remainder of her underwear, following each caress with a string of delicate kisses which, in Lucianna’s now fevered imagination, wove a covering for her as airy and delicate as a cobweb and yet at the same time was as fiery as though he had encased her whole body in a sheet of burning desire.

As she felt him circle her navel with the tip of his tongue, she cried out tormentedly to him, instinctively arching her body, offering it…offering herself to him in the age-old, timeless language of feminine desire.

Jake trembled as he gripped her hips with his hands and tried to still her sensual writhing, as unsuccessfully as he tried to subdue his own response to it. And when he felt her innocently fighting against his constraint and trying to open her legs in pleading invitation he knew there was no way he could resist her any longer.

His body ached for the sweet, feminine warmth of hers so much that he was already shuddering under the impact of trying to control it, and as for the emotional impact she was having on him…

It was no good; what was to happen was inevitable, as inevitable as night following day, moon following sun, but first…

Her eyes closed, her hands balled into small, hard fists of agonised need as she cried out against the strictures of aching desperation that possessed her, Lucianna had no awareness of what he intended to do until she felt his hands on her thighs and then the softness of his hair against her skin. And by then it was too late…too late to be shocked by the intimacy of the caresses he was bestowing on her, too late to even think about trying to stop him, and certainly too late to stop her body’s sweetly voluptuous, ecstatic response to the touch of his lips, his mouth, his tongue, caressing first her belly and her thighs and then the most intimate, hidden, secret part of her.

The sensation building inside her was so unfamiliar to her, so overpowering and unfamiliar, that she instinctively cried out Jake’s name, but by the time he realised what was happening to her it was too late; the sharp, pulsing contractions of her orgasm were already convulsing her.