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  Brett rolled over and levered himself up onto his hands, placed either side of his head. He watched her face as he knelt between her tremulously parted thighs and nudged gently at the entrance of her body. Emily closed her eyes.

  She felt his fingers coaxing her moist flesh leaves apart, running softly over the sensitive folds, sending little shivers along her quivering nerve endings. Her mouth and throat felt dry in the prelude to panic she had dreaded. She gasped as he entered her, smoothly, without force, and her well-prepared body opened and welcomed him in.

  Emily's eyes opened as he began to move slowly in her. A liquid heat seemed to be consuming her from within, travelling in swirling waves along her veins until she glowed. Brett covered her parted lips and kissed her deeply, his large hands cradling her head in their palms, gentling her.

  With each long, controlled thrust, his penis scraped deliciously over her untutored clitoris, making her juices flow faster, easing his way. She had never dreamed it could be like this! Lingering, gentle . . . essentially loving.

  Brett's pupils had dilated so that she could no longer see the iris. Her own face, rapt, was mirrored in them as he almost imperceptibly increased the tempo. As the friction caused little ripples of sensation to run along her inner flesh, Emily instinctively drew up her knees and wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him deeper into her.

  His face was intent, the muscles of his shoulders as she dug her fingers into them, held taut. A fine sheen of perspiration filmed his forehead as he levered the upper half of his body up off the bed, away from her. Now Emily could see the fusion of their bodies as she glanced down between them. Unable to drag her eyes away, she saw how their pubic hair meshed together, saw the strong white column of his penis, glistening with the moisture of her body, as it withdrew and plunged in.

  She gasped as she felt the ripples of sensation come faster, building slowly, inexorably to a crescendo. Clenching her teeth, she drew him down against her, needing to feel his weight, anchoring her as she drummed her heels compulsively against his thrusting buttocks.

  'Oh! Oh my God! Oh . . .!'

  She thrashed her head from side to side as white light exploded inside her head and her entire body was wracked by uncontrollable shudders. In response, Brett thrust faster and harder into her, his voice joining hers as they sped together into a vortex of feeling, abandoning all rational thought on the way.

  Emily had lost all track of time. Gradually, her heartbeat slowed and her temperature returned to normal. Slowly, it seeped into her consciousness that her legs felt cramped and that Brett's body, still wrapped around her, was heavy and damp. She stirred slightly in mild protest.

  He opened his eyes and took his weight onto his elbows. His eyes smiled as he looked down at her.

  'Well,' he said, his voice hoarse still with reaction.

  Emily smiled weakly, still not quite able to believe what had happened between them.

  'Well indeed!' she whispered.

  Brett removed himself gently from her and coaxed her under the duvet. Pulling her into the circle of his arms, he kissed the top of her head.

  'Are you all right?'

  'Hmmm!' was all she could manage.

  Her limbs felt heavy, as if she had just endured a marathon session in the gym. Between her legs, where the result of their union now seeped warmly onto the sheets, there was a slight, but not unpleasurable soreness.

  Emily lay, her head pillowed on Brett's chest, her arms about his waist and examined her feelings. To her surprise, she found none of the regret, no uncomfortable realisation that she had make a mistake, which she had expected to find. She felt . . . replete, yes, that was it! But she had the feeling that the sensation would only be temporary. As if she had just consumed the most delicious, the most exquisitely prepared hors d'oeuvre which had primed her palate for the main meal to come.

  She stirred impatiently, levering herself up onto one elbow so that she could look down into Brett's face. Feeling her gaze upon him, his eyelids flickered, then opened. He smiled at her quizzically.

  'Are you all right?' she asked.

  'Sure.'

  'Then could we move on to the main course?'

  Emily blushed even as she said it. He would have had to have read her mind to know what she was talking about, yet his firm, well-shaped lips curved into a wicked grin as he reached for her.

  It was as if, having superceded that first, awful experience when Emily was young, all her fears and inhibitions which had kept her chaste for so long had been swept away. Her body vibrated with a life of its own, independent of her thinking mind, eager for new experiences, further explorations into sensuality.

  She lay still, her eyes closed to block out any visual stimuli which might detract from what she felt. Brett's lips were warm against her still damp skin as he sought out every tiny, sensitive patch of skin, helping her to discover erogenous zones she never knew existed.

  Emily shivered, unable to anticipate where she would next feel the rasp of his tongue. First it was behind her ear, then in the hollow beneath her hip bone. Her toes curled against the cotton sheets as he traced a path from her collar-bone to her navel, making the goosebumps stand up on her skin.

  The first touch of his lips against her swollen sex sent a jolt of electricity through her from head to toe. She could feel the slippery folds of flesh open up under his possessive mouth, inviting him in. Her back arched, he found the small, hard bud which was at the root of her pleasure. In her mind's eye, she imagined it slipping out from under its demure hood and thrusting itself, lewdly demanding, at him.

  Emily opened her eyes and looked down. All she could see of Brett was the top of his dark head against the whiteness of her skin, her spread thighs framing his face. His hands kneaded the muscles of her legs, making them ache pleasurably.

  She had a sudden, overwhelming urge to stretch. Reaching up to the bedhead, she arched her back higher, lengthening her spine as far as she could. Her lower legs rested on Brett's broad back and she placed her weight on them, pointing her toes downwards as she pushed forward.

  Brett's hands came beneath her, supporting her bottom whilst at the same time he took her straining clitoris between his teeth and nibbled on it gently. Emily went wild as her orgasm exploded, bolt after bolt of lightning, coursing through her veins, suffusing her with heat.

  Brett held her still, his lips pressed hard against her throbbing nub as the waves at last subsided, leaving her drained. She whimpered slightly as he lay down beside her, curling up with her back to him. He put his arms around her and moulded his body to hers, spoon fashion. Emily had never felt more comfortable in her life and, with a small sigh of contentment, she closed her eyes.

  When she woke about an hour later, Brett had rolled over, onto his back. One arm was flung out at right angles to his body, the other still cradled Emily. He was sleeping heavily, his strong, symmetrical features relaxed, his dark hair tousled.

  Emily ran her eyes over him greedily, examining him more fully than she would ever have dared had his eyes been open. Those eyes were fringed with the thickest, longest lashes she had ever seen on a man. They looked incongruous, somehow, the only feminine feature on a totally masculine face as they shadowed the area under his eye.

  His skin was a smooth, sun warmed brown, stretched tight across his bones. There was a slight bump half way down his nose, but his lips, soft skinned, yet firm, were perfectly formed, the lower slightly fuller than the upper.

  Tentatively, Emily reached out and ran a finger along his jawline. It was strong and firm, like the rest of him, and she could feel the sharp rasp of his beard as it pushed stubbornly through his pores. He looked like the type of man who had to shave twice a day, she mused, her eyes running over the black shadow.

  His breathing was still deep and even so Emily dared to look further. Gently, so as not to disturb him, she peeled back the covers to expose his nakedness. Beneath his jaw, his neck ran in a thick, strong column to the place where his collarbones
met. Touching him lightly there, with the tips of her fingers, Emily watched his Adam's apple move in automatic contraction.

  Obeying an impulse, she dipped her head and pressed her lips against it before moving down to kiss the hollow at the base of his throat. The skin there was warm and slightly damp. She darted out her tongue and tasted the salty tang of it, nervously, as if biting into forbidden fruit.

  Glancing quickly upwards, she saw that still he slept, one arm thrown out, unmoving. Her eyes ran across the breadth of his shoulders, liking their symmetry, the beauty of the smooth, polished skin. Further down that glowing flesh was all but covered by the thick, silkily coarse hair that covered him like a gossamer blanket. His flat, male nipples showed through, dark pink and hardening as they were exposed to the slight chill of the room.

  Once again, Emily followed her instincts and kissed him, there. And down, down his mid-line to where his taut, flat stomach quivered under her lips. Keeping her eyes averted, for now, from the swelling column which nudged her chin impertinently, she ran her lips around the circle of his waist to his left side.

  It was there she found the scar, puckered, still livid, about four inches long, though thin, and winding upward towards his armpit. Emily paused, frowning, remembering how he had told her he had been in an accident. Gently, she placed her cheek against the damaged flesh before nibbling her way back to his navel.

  His breathing had quickened now, become more shallow, but still he did not open his eyes. Emily wondered if he were truly still asleep, or whether he faked it. Bypassing the more obvious of his masculine charms, she traced a line up the soles of his feet, from his heels to his toes. He didn't flinch, though his closed eyelids flickered.

  Emily smiled and trailed her fingers lightly round his ankles, rolling her thumbs on the bone and walking her nails slowly up his shins. His large, hair roughened thighs tensed as she kneaded them, slowly working upwards to his cock which twitched, once, in anticipation.

  He was not asleep now, of that she was certain, yet he kept his eyes firmly closed against her. The sudden tension in his muscles told her he was alert, waiting for her next move. Her hand reached out and hovered, unsure. She held her breath as her hand lowered and closed around the strong, pale column which rose from the thick nest of hair between his thighs.

  It was warm, the skin unexpectedly soft as she lightly ran the palm of her hand along its length. Brett appeared to be holding his breath too, now, and Emily felt an answering pull deep inside her as he let it out on a jagged sigh and shifted slightly under her hand.

  Growing in confidence, Emily touched the pink, velvety helmet and ran the tip of her finger round the edge before following the tiny crease with one fingernail. She squeezed gently, milking him, before enclosing him in her hand and running it up and down, moving the skin over the swollen column.

  Tearing her eyes away, she scanned his face. A slight frown etched a line between his eyebrows, his mouth was drawn into a thin line, his jaw clenched in concentration. There was a light film of sweat across his forehead and on his upper lip and Emily swooped to run her tongue along it, the unexpectedness of the action making his lips part in a gasp.

  Emily took advantage of his surprise and covered his mouth with her own, kissing him deeply. The inside of his mouth was hot, his tongue as it met hers, hard and demanding. Emily let go of his cock and braced both hands either side of his head against the pillows. Her arms turned to liquid as the kiss went on and on, so she straddled him, one knee either side of his waist. Although only their lips touched, Emily could feel the scorching heat of his skin, it glowed and gave off warmth, drawing her down to him.

  They pulled apart, gasping for breath. His eyes were open now, boring into hers. Emily could feel the lips of her nether mouth pout and open in response to the expression in his eyes. Without so much as a butterfly caress from his fingers, the moisture gathered there and made her ready to receive him.

  Slowly, never breaking eye contact, Emily reached down between her legs and parted the lips of her sex. The skin felt hot and slippery under her fingers as she lowered herself onto him and sheathed the tip of his shaft. They stayed like that, poised, for several seconds. Then slowly, excruciatingly gradually, Emily sank down on him.

  First the tip disappeared inside her, then, inch by inch, he was enclosed by her hungry passage. His eyes seemed to glaze over as she took the last of him in and sat astride him, absolutely still. His cock seemed to swell even more, filling her up, his hairy balls tickling at the puckered mouth of her anus.

  He reached up for her, but Emily shook her head. She wanted to watch his face, see his every nuance of expression as she rode him. She wanted to watch him as he came.

  She shifted her weight slightly so that she was leaning back, her back arched. Brett's eyes were drawn to where her hardening clitoris thrust forward, clear of the russet curls of her mons. His eyes were hot on her as he reached down and guided her own hand down to it, pressing the tip of her middle finger against it.

  Emily flushed hotly and shook her head, resisting.

  'No!' she whispered.

  Brett smiled gently and moved her finger slightly. Emily closed her eyes as the small action sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach. Gradually she forgot he was watching her, barely noticing when he took his guiding hand away.

  She felt the perspiration break out on her skin as she grew warmer. God it was good! To masturbate herself whilst so full of him. She began to move her hips, gently at first, then more savagely. Rising up on her knees, she withdrew from him until only the tip of him was inside her, before sinking back down again.

  The cords on Brett's neck stood out as she repeated the action, more quickly this time. His eyes were riveted on her circling finger as it caressed her clitoris and he watched as his own cock came into view before being swallowed up again.

  Emily could feel the pressure building, building, deep within her. Instinctively, she began to tap rhythmically on her straining nub. Tap tap tap, harder and harder, faster and faster until she was thrashing the tiny bud. She cried out as her climax exploded, bucking her hips and closing her eyes despite herself.

  Brett was close to joining her, she could feel the dam was about to burst. With an effort, Emily opened her eyes to watch him. His eyes were fixed on her face, but he did not appear to be seeing her. Sweat plastered the hair to his forehead, his lips were dry, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

  Emily concentrated on keeping to the rhythm she had built up, quickening her pace as she saw that he was about to come. His lips moved, wordlessly, as the first, warning spurt of semen hit the entrance to her womb, then he threw back his head, arching his neck as he lost control.

  Emily pressed her lips against his throat as his seed flooded her and trickled back out again, squeezing her muscles tightly to milk every last drop of him. And when at last he slumped, spent, she collapsed on top of him and smothered his face with kisses.

  'God! You're wonderful!' he whispered hoarsely as his mouth sought and found hers.

  They cuddled up close and held each other as the storm between them subsided, leaving in its wake a delicious lassitude. After a few minutes, Emily stretched and yawned. She could feel Brett's eyes on her.

  'What? What is it?' she asked as she saw his expression.

  He shrugged and pulled his eyes away, telling her that he was unhappy. Suddenly her new found confidence rushed away, leaving her feeling exposed and raw.

  'Wasn't it . . . I thought it was good?' she asked, her voice pitifully small.

  Brett sat up and stared down at her in the encroaching dusk.

  'It was wonderful, Emily – how can you doubt it?'

  He stroked her hair with a tenderness which brought tears to clog her throat.

  'Then why . . .?'

  'It's nothing. Just that I wish . . .'

  'What? What do you wish?' she pressed him impatiently, hoping against all hope that his thoughts mirrored her own.

  He smiled, sel
f-mocking, glancing away as if marshalling his thoughts.

  'I just wish we had more time. Sorry.'

  Emily could not stop the grin which spread across her face as he spoke aloud the words she had not dared utter.

  'Sorry?' she echoed.

  'I shouldn't say that, I guess.'

  'We have a weekend place, a cottage in Cornwall,' she said, her words rushing into each other. 'We could go there, just the two of us, for as long as we wanted . . . Oh! But of course. It's me who should be apologising, asking such a thing of you.'

  'Emily?'

  'You've agreed to work here, haven't you? I'm only your first assignment.'

  Reality, like a bucket of ice-cold water, dampened what was left of her ardour. Emily felt like a fool, allowing herself to get so carried away. Forgetting that this wonderful night had been bought for her by her mother. By credit card.

  Brett was still smiling softly down at her and she frowned questioningly at him.

  'You're so beautiful, Emily, so very lovely. I think I'm already half-way in love with you.'

  'Brett . . .!' she was half shocked, half exhilarated by his earnestly spoken words.

  'And that after only one night!' he laughed softly. 'With more time together . . . could we go to this place now? Tonight?'

  Emily stared back at him and knew she would do anything, go anywhere to find out if he was right, if what had flared between them these past few hours was more than a simple conflagration of their hormones. And at that moment she knew that she wanted him to be right.

  'But . . . don't you have a contract?' she whispered.

  Brett smiled slightly.

  'I'm my own man, Emily. Any contract can be broken.'

  He waited until she nodded before branding her with his kiss.

  15

  'Where is Brett?'

  Maggie looked up in surprise as the line of men in front of her stirred. Not one met her eye as she passed her gaze over each of them, which was unusual in itself. Normally there was a continuous, easy banter during roll-call and no one had ever failed to answer any question she cared to ask them. Something was up. Maggie frowned as she realised that since she had, reluctantly, left Brett with Emily the night before, she hadn't caught a glimpse of him.