‘I feel a little crazy around you,’ Poppy confessed as she planted a soft, teasing kiss to his mouth.
He kissed her back, a light play of his lips upon hers, pressing, nibbling, caressing. ‘Do you have any idea how out of my depth I’m feeling right now?’
She gave him a wry look. ‘Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be feeling?’
He cupped her face in his hands again. ‘How do you feel?’
Poppy shivered as his dark eyes centred on her mouth. ‘Nervous, excited... A little worried I might disappoint you...’
His gaze held hers with a look that was surprisingly tender. ‘You have no need to be worrying about that. This first time is all about you. I don’t want you to feel concerned about anything else but your needs.’
Poppy touched his lower lip with the tip of her finger. ‘I do know what an orgasm is. I’ve had them...you know...? By myself...’
His eyes darkened. ‘Do you want to show me what works for you or would you prefer me to discover it for myself?’
Poppy felt a hot blush storm into her cheeks. ‘I think I’d feel more comfortable with you discovering it...’
His thumbs stroked her cheeks in a slow and gentle caress. ‘Making love with someone for the first time is all about discovering what works and what doesn’t. I want you to tell me if you want to stop at any point. If you don’t feel comfortable then we can call a halt. You’re the one in control, OK?’
Poppy wondered if she could have chosen a better first lover. He seemed so concerned for her, so adamant that she was not to be pressured or frightened or pushed out of her depth. For someone with such a racy reputation, he was showing a softer, gentler side that was powerfully seductive. She wanted to melt into his hard male body, to lose herself in his sensual expertise.
She didn’t want to think about the dozens of women who had been with him before. In a strange way, it felt as if it was the first time for both of them. She felt it in the slight hesitancy of his touch, the way his hands moved over her in almost reverent discovery. Like how he explored her breasts, as if they were the most precious, sensitive globes he had ever touched.
She shuddered as he slid his hand under her pyjama top, shaping her, the warm cup of his palm making every hair on her head tingle at the roots. He brushed the pad of his thumb over her tight nipple and a shower of sensation cascaded down her spine. A hot spurt of longing fired between her legs and she pressed herself closer, wanting more of him, wanting his skin on her skin without the frustrating barrier of their clothes.
His mouth covered hers in a searing kiss; it burned and sizzled every nerve-ending until she was breathless. He pushed aside her pyjama top as if it was nothing more than a scrap of tissue paper, his hand cupping and shaping her possessively as his mouth bewitched hers. She felt the drag of desire deep and low in her belly, the slow but delicious ache that tugged and pulled, drawing her towards him like a magnet. Her loins pulsed and ached with the need for more. She pressed herself even closer, her insides melting as she felt the hard, insistent press of his body against her.
He brought his mouth to her breast in a hot, moist caress that made her quake with desperate need. His tongue laved her tightly budded nipple, playing with it, teasing it, tantalising it until she was whimpering in soft little gasps of want.
‘Not here,’ he said. ‘We need a bed.’
Poppy’s breath came out in a startled whoosh as he scooped her up in his arms. ‘I’m too heavy to carry upstairs.’
‘You’re a featherweight. I’m twice the weight of you. I’m worried I’m going to crush you.’
Poppy had never felt more feminine in her life. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself up to the thrill of being swept off her feet. Each step he took on the staircase made her heart thump harder. It was one step closer to him taking her into his full possession. Her skin danced with the anticipation of it, every nerve in her body alert and finely tuned to the radar of his.
It seemed like for ever yet it was no time at all before her back was pressed against a firm mattress. He came down over her, his mouth hot and insistent on hers, his hands moving over her in gentle caresses that peeled off her night clothes with a slow deliberation that made her blood tingle in her veins. She reached for his shirt buttons, undoing them with fevered concentration. She wanted to kiss every inch of his hot flesh, to feel it shiver and shudder under the ministrations of her lips and tongue.
He shrugged off his shirt as her hands reached up to explore the carved muscles of his chest and shoulders. ‘You work out.’