taste the nectar waiting within.
As they drank deeply of each other Eden’s hands moved upwards, cupping the curve of her breasts, his fingers not quite touching her throbbing nipples. When at last his palms slid over them as they strained against the soft material of her nightshirt Keira’s knees almost gave out on her. She shifted her weight, moving her legs against his taut thighs, and she felt him draw a sharp breath.
‘Do you know what you’re doing to me?’ he whispered hoarsely into her throat, and Keira’s teeth teased his earlobe.
‘Something like what you’re doing to me, I should imagine,’ she said breathlessly, and he gave a soft, intimately erotic laugh.
His hands slid downwards over her rounded hips to cup her buttocks, holding her firmly against him, leaving her in no doubt of his arousal. Then he kissed her again and they strained, melted against each other, thigh to thigh, stomach to stomach, breast to breast, lips locked in heated desire.
Somehow they were in Keira’s bedroom and her robe was slipping from her shoulders. His hands then lifted her nightshirt over her head. Not that she noticed that particularly. The feel of the material being pulled gently from her body was only a peripheral sensation. She was more intent on unbuttoning his shirt, luxuriating in the intoxicating texture of the fine silky hair on his chest, his hard hot skin beneath her hands.
She fumbled with his belt buckle, undid his zip, the sound rasping into the tense stillness around them. Her fingers were shaking so badly she couldn’t seem to summon enough strength to remove his trousers.
‘Help me,’ she implored unsteadily, and in one swift movement he stood naked before her.
His hands gently cupped her face and he looked into her eyes. ‘You’re just as beautiful as I’ve imagined thousands of times that you would be,’ he said huskily, and Keira drew a shallow breath.
‘You’re beautiful, too,’ she managed, her hands sliding over the expanse of his chest, to the curve of his hips, her fingers settling in the indentation of his backbone as he slowly, excruciatingly slowly, drew her against him.
Her breasts slid against the light mat of fine dark hair on his chest and her nipples contracted, aching where they touched him, and she caught her breath as her body seemed to drown in the tide of craving desire that gripped her.
Eden pulled back the duvet and laid her on the bed, stretching his long body beside her.
Only then did Keira tense slightly as reality took over, bringing the realisation that there was no going back now. She had committed herself to their lovemaking. And she knew a moment of chilling apprehension. Would she freeze up as she always had when Dennis made love to her? But Dennis had never made her feel the way Eden did, filled her with this compelling intense impatience for physical gratification.
Her eyes rose to meet Eden’s and he smiled just slightly, lifting her hand to his lips, placing a smouldering kiss in her soft palm, then slowly taking each fingertip in turn into his mouth.
His burning gaze seduced her, tempted her, pushed her momentary doubts out of her mind and replaced them with that same overwhelming hunger, that thirst for fulfilment.
They kissed again, fingers exploring each other’s bodies, lingering lightly over each contour, seeking and finding each erotic place, murmuring to each other as their passion rose. When he took her nipple in his mouth Keira gasped, her head going back as she arched towards him.
His mouth slid up to the base of her throat where her pulse beat an erratic tattoo, then returned to caress her other breast, teasing her until she thought she’d go mad with wanting him.
‘Eden, please,’ she heard someone plead in a voice raw with heightened passion, and some small part of her was shocked to recognise that voice as her own.
But he allowed her no time for recriminatory thoughts as his fingers moved downwards, intimately caressing her, setting her on fire, so that she writhed against him, crying out his name as waves of pleasure clutched her, wrapped themselves about her, rippled along every inch of her body.
Only then did he move over her, entering her, lifting her senses again until the world exploded once more.
Keira gradually floated back to earth, feeling the coolness of tears on her cheeks, and she turned to him.
‘Eden?’ she said softly and he kissed her forehead.
‘Mmm.’
‘Thank you,’ she murmured against him as she snuggled contentedly into the curve of his arm, and she was immediately asleep.
When she awoke it was well into the morning and Eden had gone. As she struggled into a sitting position she saw that he had carefully folded her discarded clothing over the chair by her wardrobe.
Keira clutched the duvet to her nakedness, momentarily embarrassed by her memories, and then she smiled as her skin tingled at her sensual recollections. She climbed from the bed, stretched languidly and crossed to the shower, humming as she washed and dressed in faded denims and a loose sweatshirt.
In the kitchen she found her telephone notepad propped against the toaster, and written in bold black script was the message, ‘No. I, thank
Keira’s mouth curved into an inane smile and only the insistent push of the cat against her legs brought her out of her reverie.
‘Isn’t it a wonderful day, Roger?’ She beamed down at him and he strolled over to his empty food bowl and looked eloquently from it to Keira.
There was a fresh, opened tin of cat food on the bench so Eden had obviously fed the cat before he left not long ago, and Keira put her hands on her hips.
‘That’s not playing fair, Roger, you con artist.’
Cutting his losses, the cat sprang on to one of the bar stools and nonchalantly began to clean one paw, his expression telling Keira he hadn’t wanted the food anyway.
Keira laughed and picked him up, hugging him tightly, which he endured with a miaow of forbearance.
‘So what did you think of our visitor this morning? A most attractive man, wouldn’t you agree? I certainly hope you’ll show well-bred discretion and keep this morning’s events to yourself. And, since you’re dying to ask, I had a wonderful time,’ Keira told him as he gave a wriggle and she deposited him back on the stool. ‘What do you think of that?’
Roger purred, yawned, and looked pointedly bored as he headed for the sofa.
‘And if you say anything about a man only doing what a man has to do, then I’m going to have to say, he did it so wonderfully.’
Realising what she was saying, Keira felt herself flush with embarrassment. ‘Remember, not a word to a soul, Roger,’ she added as she set about preparing a snack.
Keira spent the remainder of the day wandering around the house beginning small tasks and failing to finish them. She’d suddenly find herself pausing halfway through doing something, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth. Or she’d begin to hum a favourite tune.
By dinnertime she had irritated herself beyond endurance. Anyone would think she was a frustrated widow who had been saved by a wanton romp in the hay, she admonished herself.
A very enjoyable romp, she reminded herself, and giggled. Then she just as suddenly sobered.
In all honesty she couldn’t say she had ever been impressed with the sexual side of her marriage, and since her separation from Dennis she hadn’t really missed having a physical relationship. Her career had more than compensated.
Dennis hadn’t been the type to encourage any closeness of any kind during the few years of their marriage. As long as she’d been there to listen when he talked, to bolster his ego when he felt he’d been slighted, to be available when he turned to her in bed, then her life had had some semblance of calm. Only when she didn’t comply had he become petulant and spiteful.
Quite early in her marriage she’d learned to pander to him simply because it was the easiest way out. And she was scarcely proud of herself for what she now felt was total spinelessness on her part. Today she would have confronted the intolerable situation.
Of course, she’d come to realise that Dennis’s idea of lovemaking had been selfish at least. The books she’d begun to read in desperation in an attempt to save their crumbling marriage had opened her eyes to that much.
The basis of their problem had been Dennis’s fault and not hers. There had been no emotional coming together, no tenderness between them. She’d known instinctively that she wasn’t frigid, an accusation with which he had so
