There he stopped and faced her. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Because once you come inside and I begin to touch you, I won’t be able to stop.”
Cathy looked from him to the door. So this was his bedroom. She’d known it was at this end of the house, but she’d never explored much. She hadn’t wanted to pry.
There were a thousand ways she could have answered. She could have explained that she wanted him to be the one to teach her the secrets between a man and a woman. She could have tried to tell him that she loved him and that being intimate with him was as close as she could come to perfection. She could have gone on about how many nights she’d lain awake in her bed reliving their kiss and wanting to repeat it.
But the words got tangled in her mind. She didn’t know where to start or how much he would want to hear. So she simply put her hand on the doorknob and turned it. The door swung open, and she stepped inside.
She had a brief impression of a large bed, a wide window with a perfect ocean view and sunlight spilling onto thick carpeting. Then Stone took her into his arms and drew her close. When his hands held her against him, thoughts of the room faded. When he kissed her, she couldn’t think at all.
As soon as his mouth moved on hers, the tingling began as her whole body focused on the feel of his lips pressing, caressing, moving on hers. He was all damp heat and passion, drawing her closer still, as if he couldn’t possibly get enough of her. This is what she wanted, she realized. Not just the lesson, not just the intimacy, but the wanting. She craved his desire for her. No man had ever felt those needs, not for her, and as she shifted against him and felt the instant hardness that surged against her belly, her trembling turned into shivers.
He touched the tip of his tongue to her bottom lip. Instantly she parted for him. He slipped inside, rediscovering her. Her hands fluttered helplessly as she tried to figure out where to touch him first. His arms? His shoulders? Then she wrapped one arm around him and settled her free hand on the back of his head.
His hair was silky and cool, a marked contrast to his heated body. She felt her breasts flatten against his broad chest. When he stroked her back then moved lower and cupped her rear, she gasped faintly against his kiss. Involuntarily her hips arched forward, bringing her belly more firmly in contact with his arousal.
There was too much to think about, she realized with mild panic. She couldn’t keep track of what was happening. There was the kiss, and the sensations brought about by the kiss. The feel of their tongues stroking and circling, the sweet taste of him, the way he growled low in his throat and she both felt and heard the sound. There were the signals from her body—places he was touching, the way his fingers felt, the pressure and sureness of his hands. Her breasts were achy, her nipples hard. Her thighs felt hot, and she could feel dampness forming in her most secret place.
To complicate matters, her brain was getting fuzzy. She didn’t want to think anymore. She just wanted to feel. She wanted to do all the things she’d read about. She wanted to feel his body on top of hers, wanted him to touch her breasts, perhaps even to kiss them. She wanted him to touch her down there.
That last thought made her blush return. Stone didn’t seem to notice. He cupped her face in his hands and pulled back enough to trail kisses across her forehead, then her cheeks.
“I want you,” he breathed in her ear. The warm air made her shiver. He followed the breath with a soft kiss that made her want to melt right there. “I want you,” he repeated. “Naked, in my bed. I want to be inside of you. I want to fill you up and pleasure you until you can’t think about anything but how we are together.”
His words created an erotic image that both aroused and terrified her. He was a strong man, extremely focused on whatever he set his mind to do. She hadn’t realized that when they made love, all that attention would be centered on her. She wasn’t sure she was up to it. But she was willing to find out.
“Cathy,” he murmured, and kissed her mouth. “Sweet Cathy.”
His hands dropped to her shoulders, and he eased her suit jacket from them, then tossed it over the back of a chair. As his mouth teased hers, his fingers reached for the first button on her blouse. She felt her breathing increase, although not all of her reaction was from passion. He was going to touch her breasts. She just knew it. She was desperate for that. Maybe he could ease the aching there. But she was also terrified. What if he hated them? What if it hurt? What on earth had she been thinking? This was all a hideous mistake and she was going to tell him, too. Just as soon as they stopped kissing.
Because while the rest of it was frightening and something she was beginning to think she could do without, the kissing was still very nice. So she concentrated on that. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the kiss and almost managed to not notice when he finished unbuttoning her blouse and pulled it free of her skirt. She was so successful that she actually jumped when warm male hands settled on her bare rib cage.
He broke the kiss and moved down to her throat. Cathy wanted to protest, then he licked the sensitive skin under her left ear and she found that was nearly as nice as kissing. She would insist he stop doing that in just a second or so.
His mouth moved lower, down her neck to her shoulder. He nibbled along her collarbone. She was vaguely aware of her arms falling to her sides and her blouse sliding down before drifting to the floor. It seemed so unimportant.
He kissed down her chest until he reached the swell of her left breast. Her breathing quickened, but there wasn’t any fear now. Just the wild hope that he could soothe the ache, that he could somehow give her what she’d just realized she needed.
He licked the valley between her breasts. She shuddered and whispered his name. But then he was gone. She opened her eyes. He walked to the window and drew the drapes partially closed. There was still plenty of light, but it wasn’t so bright. Cathy wasn’t sure if Stone was doing that for him or for her and she found she didn’t much care.
While his back was to her, she slipped out of her pumps and her panty hose. In all her romantic imaginings, she’d never once figured out an erotic way to remove panty hose. But she left on her skirt.
As he returned to her side, he pulled his shirt free of his jeans, then sat on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes and socks. When he held out his hand to her, she took it and joined him on the bed.
He ran his fingers through her hair. “How scared are you?” he asked.
“Somewhere between very and petrified.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “That’s honest.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “For what it’s worth, I haven’t made love in a very long time. There’s every chance that I’ve forgotten how.”
“Don’t even expect me to believe that,” she told him, but his confession made her feel a little better. Maybe he wouldn’t notice how awkward she was.
He chuckled and pressed his mouth to hers. Even as she parted to admit him, she felt his fingers against her bra hooks in back. She fought against the need to fold her arms against her chest to keep the undergarment in place. This didn’t seem the time or place for modesty, she thought. After all, she’d been the one to initiate their lovemaking. So when he slipped a finger under the shoulder strap of her bra, she relaxed and let him pull it down and toss the undergarment aside.
The air felt cool on her breasts. At least her eyes were closed, and they were kissing. She couldn’t see what he was doing, and he probably couldn’t stare at herandkiss her at the same time.
He eased his hands behind her and urged her to stretch out on the bed. Unfortunately that meant they had to stop kissing, but she tried not to think about that. Before she could well and truly panic, he placed a hand flat on her rib cage.
Here it comes, she thought, hoping she didn’t do anything stupid and that it wasn’t horrible and—
