One Reckless Night (9 page)

 
He stood up slowly, still holding her gaze with his.

 
'Kiss me, Susie.'

 
His voice seemed to reach her from a far distance. And yet he was so near-so close.

 
Close enough to touch, was her last coherent thought as she stepped forward into his arms, lifting her face to his like a flower turning to the sun.

 
CHAPTER FIVE

 
His mouth was cool and very gentle as it began its slow, lingering exploration of hers.

 
Somehow she had always known it would be like that, she realized in quiet bewilderment. As if in some strange way this was the moment she'd been created for.

 
She stood pliantly in the circle of his arms, aware that every fiber of her being was awakening and responding to each new sensation that his caress engendered. She felt his tongue trace the firm contour of her upper lip, his teeth tug softly at the quivering fullness of the lower one, trembled as kisses like the brush of silk touched each blunt, vulnerable corner of her mouth. And as the pressure of those kisses gradually deepened into sensuous insistence.

 
And then mere acceptance was no longer enough, either for him, or, she recognized with shock, for her. Her head fell helplessly back, like a rose too heavy for its stem. Tiny stars danced behind her closed lids as her shaking hands reached up to fasten round his neck and draw him closer still, while her lips parted, signing, to answer his demand.

 
Their mouths locked in a possession that was also a surrender. A ravishment that was also a gift. Zanna fed on him greedily, the breath moaning softly in her throat, driven by desire for the first time in her life, deaf to everything but the thunder in her blood.

 
She thought, in some reeling corner of her mind, I never knew. Dear God-I never knew...

 
They swayed together blindly, oblivious to everything but this hunger, this mutual, overwhelming need that seemed to be consuming them both.

 
Her body strained forward, urging against him in an instinct as old as time, carrying her over some dark and irrevocable threshold.

 
She was aware of him caressing her-of his hands stroking her small high breasts, teasing the nipples to vibrant, startled life, then gliding down over the curves and planes of waist, stomach and hips to the soft, guarded cleft of her thighs.

 
She heard herself gasp in shock, and in a pleasure that was almost guilt at his touch.

 
He said huskily, 'Look at me, Susie. I need to see your eyes.' And then as she obeyed dazedly, 'Has there been-anyone for you? I have to know.'

 
'No.' The denial was a thread of sound as she stared up at him from under weighted lids. There was a pause, then he nodded, slowly. His face looked stark, pared down to bronze angles. A flush burned along the high cheekbones and the dark gaze seemed to simmer into hers for one endless, stinging moment...

 
Then, without another word, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her head against the hard curve of his shoulder, and carried her out of the room and up the stairs.

 
He put her on the bed and lay beside her, propping himself on one elbow as his eyes searched her face. He touched her cheek with his hand, then followed the outline of her throat down to the opening of her shirt. Where he paused.

 
'Now,' he said softly, holding her gaze with his. 'Now let us find out what we both enjoy.'

 
He kissed her again, his mouth moving on hers lightly and sensuously, and began to unfasten her clothing as delicately and unhurriedly as if he were parting the petals of a flower. As he slipped the lacy cups of her bra away from her breasts her hands lifted instinctively, to cover herself, but he stopped her, catching her wrists and holding them prisoner.

 
'Don't hide yourself,' he whispered. 'There's nothing to be afraid of. Don't you know how lovely you are?'

 
The dark head bent over her and she felt his lips on her skin, his tongue drawing lazy circles around the dark pink areolae before taking each dusky, sensitized bud fully into his mouth.

 
Her whole body shuddered at the sensation, half in shock, half in a pleasure that edged on pain, as she entered the unknown labyrinth of her own sexuality.

 
His hands moved on her, uncovering her, discovering her until she was naked in his arms. Dazed with kisses, quivering in response to every movement of his caressing hands, Zanna only became aware that he too had stripped when she felt the erotic friction of his hair-roughened skin against her silkier flesh-a new delight that she accepted raptly, running her hands across his shoulders and down the supple spine, making him half-gasp, half-laugh.

 
His hands were tracing patterns on her skin, marking out a path for his lips to follow, over the slight concavity of her stomach to the slender pelvic bones and downwards. Heartstoppingly and inevitably downwards. And when, at last, his languorous exploration attained the ultimate intimacy, the long, experienced fingers finding the moist sweetness of her hidden self, she sighed, arching her back luxuriously against his questing hand, her hips moving restlessly in search of a surcease as yet un-guessed at.

 
'Soon,' he whispered against her mouth. 'Soon, I promise.'

 
His hand moved rhythmically, tantalizing, arousing the tiny satin pinnacle of her desire with swift, deft strokes.

 
Zanna's breathing tautened-quickened. Her head twisted wildly on the pillow as her self-control slid away. Her whole being seemed turned inwards, focused solely on the piercing sweetness of the sensations Jake was creating in her, on the silken spiral of tension carrying her further and further to some undreamed-of height-some uncharted realm of pleasure.

 
When the moment of release came at last she heard herself cry out as her body trembled into spasm after spasm of aching rapture and then, finally, was still.

 
When she could again think coherently she realised there were tears on her face, and she tried to turn away, ashamed of her weakness, aware that this was the second time she'd wept in front of him tonight.

 
'Susie.' His voice was very tender. He captured her chin, making her face him, then leaned forward, kissing away the salty drops.

 
'I'm sorry,' she said huskily. 'I never cry...'

 
'You mustn't reject emotion,' he said quietly. 'Or be ashamed of it either. And that was quite a lot to assimilate-for a first time.'

 
He took her in his arms and held her, stroking her hair, the curve of her shoulder, until her breathing steadied.

 
'Now tell me,' he said. 'Why did you cry? And I want the truth.'

 
She didn't meet his gaze directly. 'Because it was so beautiful,' she answered at last, a slight catch in her voice. 'And then it was-over.'

 
'Not at all.' There was a smile in his voice. 'That, my lovely one, was only the very beginning.' He took her hand, placed a kiss on its smooth palm, and carried it to his body. 'You see, Susie,' he whispered, 'you're allowed to touch me too.'

 
She said uncertainly. 'You mean that's what you want-all you want?'

 
'Oh, no,' he told her softly. 'I don't mean that at all. As I shall soon make more than clear. You see, my sweet, I suspect that your capacity for pleasure is greater than you could ever have dreamed.'

 
Her voice was uneven. 'You don't know. You don't understand...'

 
'But you're wrong.' His hands were gentle as he drew her to him, his voice little more than a murmur. 'So wrong.'

 
His mouth on hers was a flame now, warming her, reviving her. Under his silent urging she began to explore his body in turn, savoring with renewed hunger the hidden strength of bone and muscle. At his loins she hesitated, her fingers shy at first as she clasped him, encircled him. His swift, involuntary groan of pleasure drew her on, filled her with unfamiliar daring. She was entranced by his delight-by the sense of power it bestowed. Tonight she was learning her own womanhood-realizing what it meant to be desired, and, with increasing insistence, to desire.

 
His hands were on her breasts again, making them bloom and swell in excitement as his fingertips teased her flesh. His mouth found hers again, his tongue flickering across her parted lips before seeking and exploring the moist depths. A mirror image and a promise, she realized hungrily, of other delights soon to follow.

 
She was molten with longing, stricken to the heart with the need he was arousing in her.

 
And, in recognition of its mutuality, she felt the graze of his thigh between hers as he raised himself over her and then, with one fluid, silken thrust, entered her.

 
For one moment in time she was mute, motionless, her eyes widening endlessly as she stared up at him, assimilating the reality of his possession, the actual physical sensation of holding him, enclosed within her.

 
 
Then, quite simply, in total acceptance, complete surrender, she lifted herself against him-and gasped at his instant, unequivocal response.

 
They moved together in a kind of controlled frenzy, mouths locked together, sweat mingling as their bodies twisted in heated, endless demand. As if, Zanna thought, in one coherent corner of her reeling mind, this were the sole reason for their creation. This glorious, voracious, burning urgency driving them relentlessly on to some undreamed of culmination.

 
When their climax was reached, Zanna felt as if she were being torn apart, body and soul. Every sensation was so acute, she thought she might die of pleasure. From some distant place she heard Jake cry out, his voice hoarse, almost unrecognisable.

 
They drifted back to earth, and a kind of sanity, still close in each other's arms.

 
When she could speak, Zanna said huskily, 'Is it- always like that?'

 
'No.' The negation was shaken, almost curt. His body was still joined to hers, his head heavy against the curve of her shoulder. She touched the tangle of his dampened hair and, smiling, drifted into sleep.

 
She woke to his kiss. Her lids lifted slowly, languidly, to find him bending over her. She smiled up at him and slid a hand between the lapels of the toweling robe he was wearing.

 
Jake captured her straying fingers and kissed them. 'Presently.' His voice-the look in his eyes-promised other yet-undreamed-of delights, and she shivered, but not with cold, as he drew back the covers.

 
He held out a robe that matched his own. 'Now I have a surprise for you, Susie.'

 
He led her out of the room and along the landing. The bathroom door was open, and a warm breath of roses and jasmine drifted on the air.

 
Zanna caught her breath. The bath had been filled with gently steaming water, and flames like captive stars burned on the tall candles lit round its edge. There was also an ice bucket, she realized, chilling champagne and two glasses.

 
She said on a little gurgle of amusement mixed with an odd shyness, 'It looks like the setting for a Roman orgy.'

 
'Fine.' He loosened the sash on his robe and dropped it casually to the floor before sliding hers from her shoulders. 'I'll be Antony if you'll be Cleopatra. Sorry there's no asses' milk, but they don't deliver at weekends.'

 
It wasn't much of a joke, but she was grateful for it, their shared laughter easing the way for her into this new and unexpected level of intimacy.

 
She lay back in the scented water, supported by the curve of his arm, and drank the wine he'd poured for her, feeling the bubbles tingle in her head, knowing that she must be dreaming-except that even in her wildest dreams she'd never devised anything like this.

 
And when the glass was empty, and he took it from her hand, she leaned back against the padded headrest, her smile a frank invitation, and heard his breath catch, saw his eyes darken with purpose.

 
And then...

 
'No one's washed me since I was a baby,' she protested, half seriously, as he began very gently to massage soap into her skin.

 
'Then you've missed out badly.' He applied a dab of lather to the tip of her nose, and, with more minute attention, to each nipple. Her body clenched deliciously at his touch, and his slow smile told her that he was totally aware of her reaction. She looked into his eyes and saw the dazzle of the candle-flame reflected there. She leaned forward and kissed his lips.

 
His hands moved on her, caressing her softly, like the rippling of the water against her body, his touch expressing his delight and his growing need. A need that she shared.