‘Whatever it is between us, I know that you find it as irresistible as I do, don’t you?’
His teeth were taking tiny little bites at her lower lip, his tongue stroking and touching, its erotic movements driving her into a delirium of desire.
‘Yes… Yes…’ She heard the hoarse moan as though it had been made by someone else, but at least he had acknowledged now that it was simply sex between them; that made it easier for her to endure the fierce need that burned inside her. Wanting him in a purely sexual way was not a betrayal of Rick.
‘And sex is all you want from me, isn’t it?’
The harshness of his voice momentarily broke through her arousal. Blinking warily at him as she focused on the grey heat of his eyes, she said unsteadily, ‘I don’t want anything from you.’
The sound he made deep in his throat made her shiver, her muscles clenching, as his hands slid up under her tee-shirt, uncovering her breasts, his hands cupping them as he rubbed his thumbs slowly against her hard nipples.
‘Liar,’ he whispered rawly against her ear. ‘You want this.’ Her response to the deliberate intimacy of his thumbs against her sensitive skin made him laugh softly. ‘And this…’ His mouth found hers, touching and teasing her parted lips, until with a small moan of need she flung her arms round him and dragged his head down so that she could fasten her mouth on his.
For a few seconds he stayed passive beneath her feverish assault, and then, momentarily lifting his mouth from hers, he muttered thickly, ‘And so, God help me, do I!’
She couldn’t stop her body vibrating with a shudder of pleasure when he started to kiss her, his mouth fiercely demanding that she held nothing back, warning that if she didn’t give him the response he sought he would take it anyway.
It was nothing like the tender kisses she had shared with Rick; nothing like them at all, and to her shame she found that beneath the pressure of Jonas’s mouth she felt more a woman than she had felt at any other time in her life.
They kissed with a famished need that a minute detached part of her brain registered with awe. It was alien to her personality to react like this. She had always enjoyed Rick’s gentle lovemaking, but she had never felt any urge to take it beyond the limits he set on it; she had been content to let Rick set the pace, but now she knew that if Jonas were to stop touching her she would use every bit of feminine power she had to make him want her.
Just then she felt him move away from her, his breathing harshly unsteady against her ear as he levered himself upright.
Before she could speak he said thickly, ‘Too many clothes.’ And in the semi-light filtering through the closed curtains Sara watched him tug off his shirt and jeans.
His body was every bit as masculine as she had imagined, her fingers trembling slightly as she touched the sharp ridge of his spine. His skin felt hot, his muscles clenching as her hand slid round to his hip. He was wearing a pair of white briefs which he also tugged off and dropped on the floor before coming back to her.
It seemed ridiculous that she had reached the grand old age of twenty-five without ever seeing the male body so intimately before. She had seen Rick in his swimming things, of course, but, minimal though they had been, it wasn’t the same. There was something primitive, and even a little threatening, about the strong, clean line of Jonas’s body as he turned back towards her and was caught momentarily in the half light.
A dark ribbon of hair curled down the centre of his torso, spreading and thickening where it reached the top of his thighs. His arousal was so obvious that Sara automatically averted her eyes, feeling her skin flush with heat. But the heat wasn’t caused by embarrassment. She ached to reach out and touch him, to reassure herself that he was real, that his desire for her was real, and not just a continuation of her earlier dream.
‘Don’t look at me like that.’ His voice was raw and unsteady, causing her to tense and look up into his face.
Had she done something wrong? ‘Why not?’
Her own voice was huskily unfamiliar, sharing the tension she had heard in his.
‘Because it makes me ache to feel your hands against my skin,’ Jonas groaned into her ear as he leaned forwards to take her in his arms.
She was still wearing her tee-shirt, and she twisted instinctively within his embrace, wanting to be rid of it, wanting to be rid of anything that came between their two skins.
‘You want to take this off?’ His voice was hot and thick, making her shiver in hectic excitement, the erotically rough abrasion of his body hair against her midriff as he leaned into her making her gasp in pleasure.
As he had done before he slid his hands up under her tee-shirt, cupping her breasts. Her nipples were already hard and taut, pushing eagerly against the soft cotton, and when he bent his head and started to tease the twin spirals through the fabric of her tee-shirt Sara thought she would go mad with the frenzy of pleasure inside her.
Held captive by the superior weight of his body, she could only move her head protestingly from side to side and pluck impatiently at her tee-shirt as she tried to convey her need to have his mouth against her body without anything between them.
But Jonas seemed to be enjoying teasing her, keeping up his deliberate torment until the cotton clung to her skin in damp transparency. She had never experienced anything so erotic in all her life, and she shuddered protestingly beneath the slow caress of his tongue.
The skin on his hands was slightly rough, and where it touched her breasts beneath her tee-shirt, the delicate friction fed her growing desire for something more than his light caress.
Just when she felt she could not bear it any longer, Jonas moved swiftly, dragging her tee-shirt over her head and flinging it on to the floor, his mouth finding the hot pink crest of one nipple and tugging on it fiercely with a smothered groan of satisfaction.
As though an electric current passed through her body from that point of contact Sara found herself arching frantically against him, her head thrown back, the muscles in her throat cording as she raked her nails over his back.
She wanted him desperately Sara acknowledged, her body bathed in a heat that matched his own, as she moved instinctively beneath him and felt the shudder of need rip through his muscles as his hands slid to her hips, lifting her slightly, supporting her, caressing her.
Her thighs parted instinctively to accommodate him, her legs lifting eagerly to wrap round him as she welcomed the first smooth thrust of his body against and then within her own.