He might have been fast, but her hands were faster, and busier, the second they were inside the house. Her fingers flew over his buttons and had his shirt off his body, with his jeans following suit in under a minute. Then she clamped her mouth on his, and kissed him until he could only think of being inside her.
“God, I want you,” Saz groaned around her mouth, tugging up her T-shirt, and pushing back to pull it off. “I want you so bad.”
“And you’re about to get me.” She knocked off his hands, since obviously they weren’t working fast enough, and dragged off her jeans.
Then went for his boxers and shoved them down his legs before sliding a hold over his throbbing hard length. “I’m so greedy for you. You make me greedy to have you inside me every damn time.”
“I’m greedier.” He snapped open her bra, flung it off and filled his greedy hands with her lush breasts. “I can’t get enough of your softness, your fullness, the perfect curves.” Hungry, and burning with a need he could no longer control, Saz sank his mouth on one nipple, and was sure he tasted heaven.
She must have too, for her moan came out as a low satisfied sound. “Oh, that is so amazing. But I promised to get my hands on you, and I mean to have them everywhere on you.” She gave his chest a push, and pointed when his head came up. “On the floor. I don’t have the patience to go up those stairs, not when I’m this desperate to have you inside me.”
Grateful for that lack of patience, Saz took her with him to the floor, setting her on top, so she straddled him. “Oh my lucky stars! To have you like this, sitting on me, watching you from this angle.”
He rubbed his hands on her ample hips, and then slid them up to caress the mounds of her breasts. “You are perfection.”
“And you know how to make a woman love her body.” Grinning, she swooped down and took his mouth.
She kissed him like she’d done in her shop’s kitchen a little over an hour earlier, hot, hard, and unbearably passionate.
Then she raised her head, and asked him, in a voice that was sultry with sex, “Ready to have my hands on you?”
His body, his entire being, was roaring with need. “Ready and desperate.”
“Good answer.” Her mouth came over his again, hotter and harder.
This time though, she touched him as she kissed him. There was not an inch of his body she didn’t touch. And she wasn’t just grabbing or raking her fingers along his skin either.
No, she made it clear she was a woman who kept her word by taking her definitely slow, definitely delicious time teasing his flesh, palming and caressing every joint and angle, every ripple and mould of muscle.
She made a study of his body, and when she discovered spots that had him moaning…or groaning louder, she lingered on them.
It might have been five minutes, or five hours, but Saz was certain he couldn’t survive another minute unless he felt her hot and tight sheath around him.
“Now,” he groaned. His hand shoving up her head where her tongue and teeth were doing something unspeakably erotic to his nipple. “I need to be inside you now. I can’t wait any longer.”
“Yes, I think it’s got to be now.” Her eyes were pure wanton perfection as they held his. As she took hold of him, moved her body to perfectly straddle him, and as she slid him into that very perfect glove.
Saz groaned. Oh, they both did. Then she began to ride him.
It took all his willpower, and some extra strength, to get his mind to start functioning right again.
And Saz started with an apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of protection. I was…uh…well, carried away.” Although he wasn’t the kind of man to stutter, he was regretful enough to do so now. “I should have used a condom, but…I’m safe. I mean, you have nothing…”
“It’s all good, Saz.” Anya stopped his stuttering speech with a laugh. “I’m safe too. I mean, I will have to crosscheck my cycle, but I think even that is fine. In any case, I rushed you, not you me.”
“You sure did.” As she clearly wasn’t worried, or offended, Saz let go his own worry, and shifted to face her. She looked so warm, so sated, so beautiful. “You’ve got magical hands, too. Anyone ever told you that?”
Her smile was one of pure pride and satisfaction. “I’ve claimed one or two awards on the subject.”
Darn, if he didn’t like her quick sense of humour. He liked her, period. Or maybe he did more than liked her.
Unprepared for the thought, that had come out of nowhere, Saz felt his stomach flip, and to avoid dealing with the thought, pushed to his feet and held out a hand to her. “How about we see to feeding our tummies, and then you see if you can prove you’re worthy of those awards?”
“You mean I didn’t it with that wildly erotic attack I subjected your hot body to?”
She had her head cocked to the side, and her eyes were sexy as they roamed over him. Inevitably, Saz thought again of more than liking her. Of more than just wanting her really hot body.
“I just want to be certain this wasn’t a lucky chance.” He bent his head and kissed her. Then turned her around towards the staircase. “How about a bath before dinner?”
He was thinking they could do more than just clean up their bodies while in the bathroom. Which, of course, they did.
The next morning, they didn’t go to church, and Saz figured it was his bad influence on her.
But as she was a woman who made her own decisions and took responsibility for them–as he kept learning–she snorted when he said so.
“I only stayed home because I’m too lazy to make the effort to dress up and go out. Also, I didn’t bring a church wear, most likely because I knew I wouldn’t be going.”
“Your second argument makes the first null and void. And I only point it out just for conversation sake,” he added when she threw him a mock glare. “Anyway, I hope by that argument, you’re not trying to get out of taking me out on your motorbike?”
“You still want to go out? But I just found us this lovely movie to watch.”
Saz spared the TV a glance and scowled at the old movie showing on the screen. “You don’t want to watch that, and I most certainly don’t. What I want is to go out, and on your bike.”
“You only want that just so you can get a chance to critique my driving.”
“Uh-uh.” He shook his head, shooting her a grin. “I only want a chance to ride behind you, my hands roped around your waist.”
“Ah, that’s the fascination, you behind me with your hands on my waist.” Her voice was low, and raspier, as she moved, planting her feet as she got off the sofa. “How about you come with me, and I show you another way you can ride behind me, and your hands don’t have to stay only on my waist?”
“I’m always eager and willing to learn a new thing.” His body was more eager, and it curled with need, his hands already on her waist, while his lips sought their favourite spot on her neck.
The ride on the bike was turning out to be as much of a thrill for her as it likely was for him, Anya discovered as she drove them out of town.
She’d never had a man put his hands on her when she was on her motorcycle. Then again, she’d never taken a lover out on her bike before, so that probably explained the absence of that particular experience. Although, she was certain Saz was the rare kind of man who wasn’t shy sneaking his hands into a woman’s top while they were on a busy main road.
“You might want to get those fingers out of there,” she warned, her voice raised, so he could hear over the sweeping breeze.
“I can feel some tremors under my hands, so I’m thinking you like my fingers right where they are.”
As his words were said in a whisper into her ear, Anya could feel the slight shakes herself, and sighed, wishing she’d been wise enough to postpone this outing. They could be in bed now, those sneaky fingers doing more than teasing her navel.
Letting out a louder sigh, she took one hand off her throttle, and slapped off his. “Stop, or you will have us zigzagging of the road. As it is, your indecent posture is earning us more than a few shocked and disapproving stares.”
“Nothing wrong with the way I’m seated close to you. It’s making maximum use of minimum space. As for people shooting shocked stares, they should learn to mind their business.” Despite his snooty retort, he kept his hands on her hips now. “Anyway, where are you taking me? You didn’t say.”
“I know this great spot where you can get the best palm wine and bush meat. It’s at Ubulu-Uku, and that’s our destination.”
Anya frowned slightly. “Why pity? Don’t you like palm wine or bush meat?”
“I like them just fine. I’m only disappointed our ride will be ending soon.”
“Oh, that is the problem. Well, how about we take this ride right through to Obior, and then make a U-turn and head back to Ubulu?”
“I like a woman with an inventive mind.”
“Do you now?”
“I do indeed,” he said and brushed a kiss on her ear.
That tremor he spoke about shot through her and clenched her toes. “No kissing the driver’s ear, Saz. You behave like a model passenger, or I’m finding the nearest cheap hotel and having my way with you.”
“That, my dear lady, is not a threat, but a temptation,” he whispered in her ear.
But he didn’t kiss her again, and was on his best behaviour for the rest of the ride. Well, that is, if she discounted the fact that he kept teasing her ear with his soft whispers, and his hands were a tantalising burden on her hips.
“This is when you take me home.”
They’d enjoyed their date, and the ride back to town, and although she was reluctant to bring the wonderful weekend with him to an end, Anya knew she had to go home. Unless she wanted to over stay her welcome, which she didn’t.
“I don’t want you to go.” Saz took her bag and dumped it on the floor. Then he drew her into his arms. “Stay this night. I want to wake up another morning with you by my side.”
She wanted that too. Too much, Anya realised, and held herself back. “I think we’re forgetting to take this thing one step at a time. We are going to trip, if we don’t watch our steps.”
“I will catch you, if you trip. You catch me, if I do.” His mouth went to her chin, nibbled there. “And if we both trip, then we will fall together.”
“Fall together.” His nibbling kisses were sliding down to her neck, and making it difficult to recall if there was a good reason why she was stopping herself from giving in. “That may, or may not, be entirely a good idea. Or even how it will happen. But I guess I can stay this night.
“And Saz,” she let out a soft sigh when he nuzzled her throat. “You are making dinner.”
“With pleasure. I will make you my special diced plantain buried in shredded fish and eggs. How does that sound?”
His hands were under her top, dealing with the hooks of her bra. “Sounds perfect. Feels that way, too,” she murmured when one hand came around to cup her breast, while the other ran, in tantalising slowness, along her back. “I think, though, that you should make love to me.”
“With pleasure,” he repeated, and raised his head to cover her mouth.
He didn’t take or devour, as she’d expected. As the uncontrollable need that usually clawed at her when he touched her demanded. Instead, his lips took their time to taste and savour hers with soft and sweet kisses.
He brushed and stroked tenderly, and at the most unhurried pace, moving the hand on her breast to join the other on her back, and then up to her nape to hold her in place.
She couldn’t think, Anya realised, swimming under the fog of passion, which shrouded her like a warm cloak. She couldn’t work up a single thought when he lifted his head, and they stared at each other.
“Again.” That was the only word she knew. The one that expressed the hunger of her throbbing lips, and the one at the pit of her stomach. “Kiss me again.”
“Always.” That was the only word he said. Then he dropped his head, moved his mouth over her chin, her cheek, the side of her mouth, and finally he was on her lips.
He was making love to her mouth, Anya thought, and clung to him, not wanting the slow kisses to end, parting that mouth when he gently nudged his against it.
She couldn’t remember ever being kissed this way, and she’d been married to a man who knew how to kiss. Like a lover versed in the art of pleasure, Saz knew how to slide in and along her lips, when to move his tongue, and how to use it to tease and stroke hers.
His teeth took bites that were too tender to be called nibbles, and then nibbled when her moans hitched and trembled out like whispery cries.
Oh good heavens, she wanted to be kissed by this man forever. To be loved only by him.
The thought was a shock, and it sent thrill and panic into Anya, so that she pulled back, and stared at him, before demanding, “Make love to me now. I want to feel you deep inside me. That’s all I want, to feel.” Not to think.
Not to question this feeling I have for you.
“Sex looks good on you,” Saz told her. “It’s an odd thing to say, but I mean it as a compliment. You get this gloriously erotic and wanton look on your face when you’re completely aroused.
“The way your eyes are hooded and heavy, dark and sensual. And your mouth…your lush lips go plump and pouty.” He kissed her lips. “Your skin warm and sort of glowing.” Another kiss brushed on her cheek. “You’re perfect when you’re aroused, and all I want to see when I am.”
Was that a promise? A declaration?
A careless thought in a state of lust?
Don’t think, Anya reminded herself, and took hold of his hand. “Make love to me. Now.”
It was all she needed to say, all she could say before his mouth took over hers again. His kisses didn’t change, neither did his pace. He was slow, patient, tender, and God help her, loving with every stroke, every touch, and finally, with every thrust when he found his way into her.
He said the word perfect in connection with her so often, but Anya could only think he was the perfect one. Perfect for her.