In a mesh of lips and tongues he pushed her back against the wall, kissing her as if she were a banquet to be feasted on, before pulling away, tugging at her bottom lip painlessly with his teeth as he did so. His chest rising and falling in rapid motion, the palm of one hand held against her chest to still her, Helios lowered himself, pinched the hem of her dress and slowly raised it up. He kissed her stomach as he lifted the dress to her abdomen, his tongue making a trail upwards, through the valley of her breasts, into her neck, until he’d pulled it over her head and thrown it onto the floor.
Amy dug her toes into the hard flooring, her head spinning. Everything inside her blazed as fiercely as the whirling fires she’d seen on the beach. Her skin was alive to his touch. She was alive to his touch. Her senses had sprung to life from the very first moment she’d looked at him all those months ago and since then she’d been helpless to switch them off.
He straightened to his full height and stared down at her, his throat moving as his liquid eyes took in her semi-nakedness. He clasped her cheeks in his hands and brought his nose to hers. ‘Not being able to touch you or make love to you has driven me crazy,’ he said hoarsely. ‘You’ve driven me crazy.’
She pulled at his hair, wanting to hurt him, wanting him to experience the pain she’d gone through at the separation she’d had no choice but to force upon them. ‘It’s hurt me every bit as much as you,’ she whispered, bringing her mouth back to his.
Holding her tightly, Helios lifted Amy into his arms, staring at her as he carried her through to his bedroom, delighting in the heightened colour of her cheeks and the dilation of her pupils.
All his dreams and fantasies had come true.
She’d come to him.
He hadn’t realised how badly he’d prayed for it until he’d opened the door to her.
But he could still see the last vestiges of doubt and fear ringing in her eyes and he was determined to drive them away.
How could she not know that this, here, being together, was exactly how it was supposed to be?
Laying her down on his bed, he kissed her rosebud mouth and inhaled the sweet scent he had come close to believing he would never delight in again. All that separated them was her pretty black underwear. He remembered how once he’d peeled it off with his teeth, in those early hedonistic days when the desire between them had been so great he’d been certain it would have to abate. But it had only developed into something deeper, something needier.
Whatever it took, he would keep her in his bed.
As he gazed down, seeing the pulse beating in the arch of her neck, the way she stretched out her legs before raising her pelvis, the urgency grew. Theos, but he needed to be inside her.
She raised a lazy hand and pressed it to his chest, then spread her fingers over him, touching him in the way that always filled him with such gratification, as if he were one of the Seven Wonders of the World.
The knowledge that she would explore him in the same manner with which he delighted in exploring her had always been indescribable. There was not a fraction of her he had not tasted and not a fraction of him she had not touched. He would never tire of tasting her and making her his.
He slipped a hand behind her back and unclasped her bra, then carefully pulled the straps down her arms, kissing the trail they made and throwing it onto the floor with a flick. With her delectable breasts now bare, the dusky nipples puckered in open invitation, he dipped his head to take one tip in his mouth, groaning as she immediately arched her back to allow him to take more of her in.
Her fingers tugged through his hair as she twisted and writhed beneath him, the urgency in her movements matching the urgency flowing through his veins. She skimmed a hand down over his back before slipping it across his stomach, reaching for him. His attentions now on her other breast, he raised himself a little to make it easier for her to take his erection into her hand, groaning again as she held it in the way she knew he adored, rubbing her thumb over the head and guiding him to the apex of her thighs.
Gritting his teeth and breathing heavily, he kissed her neck and moved her hand away, squeezing her fingers between his own. Immediately she raised her thighs and rubbed against his length, moaning, begging him with soft murmurs.
But there was still the final barrier of her underwear between them.
He kissed her hard on the mouth, then pulled back, drifting his lips down the creaminess of her neck and breasts until he reached her abdomen. There, he pinched the elastic of her underwear between the fingers of both hands and tugged it down, past her thighs and calves and delicate ankles, until she was fully naked before him.
‘Please...’ she beseeched him, raising her thighs higher and reaching out a hand to touch him. ‘Please.’