She lifted one hand to his abdomen and began to stroke, in long languid sweeps, with the tips of her fingers. Beneath her touch she felt goose bumps rise over his skin. She lowered her hand, tracing tiny patterns through the coarse hair at his groin until she reached the smooth length of him. She wrapped her fingers around him, sliding them gently up and down his shaft, squeezing ever so slightly more firmly as she reached his tip before beginning the same journey again.
Josh’s eyelids opened to half mast as she stroked him, the cerulean glitter his only betrayal of control. Callie slid down his body and drew up onto her knees.
She bent down and traced his tip with her tongue before opening her mouth to take him fully while keeping up the momentum of her hand on his shaft. Beneath her she felt the muscles in his thighs clench and she took him deeper, increasing her rhythm, relentlessly alternating pressure with her mouth, her tongue.
When he came it was with giant shudders that wracked his body and shook the bed, in total contrast to the taut control he’d held over his body as she’d ministered to him. And, as the last waves of pleasure washed over him, Callie knew a completion she’d never known before. She’d brought him to this. She’d given him the ultimate satisfaction.
Josh pulled her into his arms, aligning her body over his, his hands stroking lazy circles across her back as she nuzzled against his chest.
“I suppose we should put the chef out of his misery and have dinner,” he eventually said.
Callie’s stomach growled in response, eliciting a hearty chuckle from Josh.
“That settles it.”
He reached a lazy arm out and lifted a phone from the bedside cabinet. His instructions were brief and to the point. They’d serve themselves in the salon on the main deck and they didn’t want to be disturbed.
Callie rose from the bed and stretched before reaching for her clothes. Josh came up behind her, his hands arresting her actions.
“Don’t bother with those. There are robes in the en suite. I like the idea of sitting opposite you, knowing you’re not wearing anything else.”
“I wasn’t wearing much else before,” Callie commented but walked through to the bathroom.
“I know,” Josh’s voice followed her. “It drove me nuts.”
“And this won’t?” she answered, stepping back through to the bedroom and tying the sash on a rich emerald satin robe.
The fabric slithered over her skin, its touch triggering tiny ripples of sensation that brought an immediate response and saw her nipples peak in clearly defined outlines. Josh’s eyes riveted on them. Unbelievably, she felt them tighten even more.
“Oh, yeah, it’ll drive me nuts.”
Callie handed him the large black towelling robe she’d chosen for him. “You’d better put this on then. We can torment each other.”
She shoved her hands deep into her pockets as Josh pulled on his robe.
“Shall we?” he said, reaching for her hand.
It felt like the most natural thing in the world to have her hand in his. His fingers laced with hers and the warmth of his palm scorched against her skin, fusing them together.
In the main salon an intimate table for two had been set, a fresh bottle of champagne languished in an ice bucket to one side and the subdued lighting was enhanced by a myriad of squat candles scattered about.
By the time they’d dined on smoked salmon filo parcels, drizzled with a sweet chilli sauce, and a medley of seasonal roasted vegetables, Callie was on tenterhooks. The enticing glimpses she caught of Josh’s bare chest as he leaned forward at the table distracted her from the flavoursome meal before them, and she was all too aware of the tension building up deep inside.
Tension that saw her shift every so often on her seat to alleviate the insistent throb at the juncture of her thighs. Tension that made her all too aware of the movement of the muscles in Josh’s throat as he swallowed. Of the play of veins on his hands as he deftly sectioned his filo parcel and brought each bite to his mouth. He was as methodical in this as he was in everything else he did.
But she knew now exactly what it took to make him lose that fabled control and as the sash on her robe began to slide loose, she made no attempt to halt the gape of fabric.
Dessert was soon forgotten as by mutual assent they rose from the table. The distance between the main deck and their room passed in a blur of motion as their appetites for one another coalesced into a melding of bodies, sensation and gratification.
They were ensconced in the private confines of the back of a limousine, fingers still entwined. It was as if, having had a taste of one another, neither could bear to break the link between them. It was past midnight and while she was physically exhausted, Callie had never felt more mentally energised before.