The shirt long gone, moving quickly and urgently, Alex reached for the buckle on the narrow belt that was threaded through the waistband of the linen trousers he was wearing. But Angel was there before him, driven by an all-consuming need to feel him, see him, her fingers shaking but surprisingly nimble as they unclipped the belt.
Before she could follow through with the action, he took her hands and lifted them high above her head. He kissed her with slow, erotic thoroughness before he took hold of the thin top she wore and, taking the hem, lifted it over her head.
She was wearing a tiny pair of panties and a bra that was little more than a couple of triangles of lace in a matching pink.
Alex gave a low appreciative growl in his throat and reached for the catch on her bra.
The underwear was gone before her head hit the pillow and he was bending over her, stroking her, his hands moving down her sides and over her ribcage and up to cup the quivering flesh of her breasts. Her body arched up to meet him, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck, as she struggled to anchor her aching core to him, all the while pressing increasingly ardent kisses to the strong brown column of his neck.
Angel squeezed her eyes closed and sank her fingers into the deep lush pelt of his hair, extracting and relishing every individual sensation, but somehow it wasn’t enough.
She wanted more; she needed more.
Maybe if she said it?
‘I know.’ His breath was moist and hot on her cheek, on her neck then her breast, and the air left her lungs in one open-mouthed gasp. His hands were moving up over her ribcage as his tongue traced the outline of her areola, before drawing the engorged peaks into his mouth first one, then the other.
In a fever of need she only distantly registered him sliding her panties down over her hips, gasping but not resisting as he parted her legs. She moaned low in her throat, pushing against his hand as he slid his fingers between her legs, parting the swollen and incredibly sensitive folds, making her pant and gasp as he rhythmically stroked the swollen flesh. Her gasps turned to deep feral moans as he touched the tight nub at her core and her body lifted off the bed.
‘You like that?’
She nodded. It made her dizzy to look into his burning eyes but she knew that the trust required to let him touch her went way beyond the merely physical. She had a connection with this man who was the father of her child, and that made it neither shocking nor shameful.
She lifted her head and kissed him back hungrily, no longer even attempting to retain control. She didn’t want control; she wanted wild and elemental. She wanted Alex, wanted to be devoured, absorbed, to become one with him.
‘I want you too!’
Had she spoken out loud?
‘Hell, I haven’t been able to think straight,’ he groaned, ‘since I saw that photo of you.’ Holding her eyes with his as they lay side by side, he took her hand and curled her fingers around his hard, smooth shaft. ‘That’s how much I want you, Angel,’ he slurred thickly.
He felt so good, and his half-closed eyes gleamed feverishly bright as she touched him. His expression turned raw and predatory and aroused her more than she had imagined possible.
Her lips parted as he lowered his mouth to hers, the deep, probing kiss draining her, sending her deeper and deeper into a vortex of sensation. As he moved over her she reached down and guided him into her, holding his gaze until that last moment when he slid thick and hard inside her.
Her eyes squeezed closed as every cell of her being focused on the feeling. She heard herself gasp.
‘Oh, please!’ As they began to move together his hands anchored her hips to the bed and she wrapped her long thighs tightly around him. Breathless, Angel moved with him, her sweat-slicked skin gliding and sliding against his. Their gasps and cries merged into one as their bodies came together, until she gave herself up to the firestorm of wild sensation that rocked her body.
As she began to float back down to earth Angel felt light. The secret burdens she had carried all her life were gone. She had slain her demons, she wasn’t her mother—she loved him.
She lay in the dark, appreciating what had happened to her, not being afraid of it any more than she was afraid of her own heartbeat. He was as much a part of her as that. That he didn’t feel the same way, that he couldn’t, made her sad, but it also made her determined to extract every last atom of pleasure from the moment.
There were more moments during the night, less urgent, less bruisingly raw perhaps, but each one more shatteringly sensual than the last.
* * *
Angel woke feeling cold. The sheet was crumpled on the floor and Alex was lying on the other side of the bed. He woke as she shuffled across the bed and shivered as she pushed closer to the warmth of his body. Streaks of light had appeared along the wide horizon where the sea met the sky. It would soon be morning and what then...?