So far, so good.
‘Ready?’
‘Sure.’
She untied the waist and the white robe fell to a puddle at her feet. Luiz felt his jaw clang to the floor. The soft mounds of her breasts spilled out from behind two tiny triangles of fuchsia-pink. The triangle that covered her pubic area was even tinier, the strings that held it in place barely thicker than dental floss.
‘You can’t wear that!’
Her brow puckered. ‘Why not?’
‘Everyone will see your…er…assets.’
‘But I thought we were swimming in your pool?’
‘The one downstairs is bigger.’
She toyed with one of the strings on her bikini bottoms. ‘I don’t care if it’s small. I’d rather stay up here. I don’t like swimming with crowds of people.’
Luiz had to think on his feet and fast. ‘There’s way too much chlorine in this one. It’ll ruin your bikini. It’ll make the colour fade.’
‘That’s easily fixed.’ She tugged at one of the strings holding her top in place. ‘I won’t wear it.’
He feasted his eyes on the creamy globes of her breasts with their twin points of rosy pink. He slid his gaze down to her slim waist, then to the tiny cave of her belly button. He snatched in a breath as she gave her bikini bottom ties a tug. The scrap of fabric fell away to reveal her feminine form. She was like a closed orchid, soft delicate petals folded together.
She came towards him with a swinging catwalk gait, her hips swaying, her beautiful breasts jiggling tantalisingly, her good-girl-turned-naughty smile on her mouth and dancing in her eyes. ‘You sure you want to go downstairs and swim in that crowded pool with all those other people?’
He swallowed thickly as she looped her arms around his neck, pushing her naked breasts against his chest. Even through the cotton of his shirt he could feel her nipples poking him. Lust charged through his body with rocket-force speed. His hands were on her waist before his brain had even registered the command. His mouth came down and covered hers in an explosive kiss that made his spine tingle from top to base.
Her tongue met his in a frenzied dance, moistly coiling and retreating, stabbing and darting around his until he had to ruthlessly take charge. He thrust deeply into her mouth, swirling his tongue over every corner of her mouth until, with a breathless little gasp, she succumbed. She melted against him, hands threading through his hair, her mouth a soft yielding pliancy beneath his.
He stroked his hands down her body, skirting over her breasts, sliding down her hips and back up again. Her skin was as smooth as cream and as soft as satin, every inch of her so perfectly feminine his body throbbed with the need to possess her.
He slid his hands down over the curve of her bottom, cupping her to him, relishing the feel of her so close to the pulsating need of his body. He continued to kiss her, deeply, thoroughly, delighting in the feel of her lips and tongue wrangling with his.
Her teeth made a series of kitten nips against his, thrilling his blood to fever-pitch. He did the same to her, pulling and tugging her lower lip with his teeth, reminding her he was the one with the greater strength.
Her hands went to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with fumbling haste as her mouth played with the skin of his neck, over his collarbone, and down his sternum.
She smoothed her hands over each part of his chest as she uncovered it, sliding over and stroking him until he was so worked up he was having trouble keeping control. His erection strained, tight and aching, against the prison of his jeans.
Once he had shrugged off his shirt, she started on his waistband fastening, releasing it and sliding his zip down. He watched as she peeled back his underwear, her small white hand stroking his length with tentative shyness. He held his breath as she smoothed the pad of her finger over the bead of pre-ejaculatory moisture at his tip. Her caresses became bolder as she saw the way he was responding.
He put his hand over hers, halting her movements before he disgraced himself. ‘I need a minute.’
‘You need me,’ she said. ‘I need you. I want you.’
‘I want you too.’ There. He’d admitted it. What was the point of trying to pretend otherwise? He hadn’t a hope of holding out. She was too distracting. Too engaging. Too everything.
‘Then why are you stalling?’
The irony didn’t escape him. When had he ever been concerned about going too fast? Normally he was all for the faster, the better. He didn’t hang around too long in case his casual partners got any funny ideas about taking things more seriously.
He didn’t do serious.
He was in it for fun, not for ever.
But something about Daisy made him think of taking his time, indulging in an affair that lasted longer than an orgasm. She was like a good wine. It would be a sin to scull a fine wine without lingering over the bouquet, tasting the subtle nuances and reflecting on the aftertaste.