“Thank you for Friday night. And for taking me away.” For a
moment Stacey hovered, then she stepped up to him and pulled him close in a hug
that shouted nothing but gratitude.
“You're welcome.” Ivo closed his arms around her, tightening
her female frame to him, relishing the last moment of having her like this. She
turned her face into his neck, her breathing softly caressing his skin, her
nose leading a delicate trail on which a sigh followed. Right there where his
pulse beat. Where her fingers had held him earlier. Held his heart.
The touch was so subtle, so gentle and pure, Ivo shut his
eyes, feeling himself slip. His hands, which until that moment had rested on
her back, inched lower, to the curve where back became butt. Stacey didn't stir
but somehow came closer, her lips higher, her sweet scent more intense as he
inhaled against her temple.
It only took a slight turn of his head, an easy slide down
the most delicate of skin to capture her lips with his own. She didn't hesitate
but kissed him back with equal unhurried intent, mooring against him, rising
with slow breaths against his body in a mimic of water in a quiet harbour. He
felt himself swell against her, his hands idling lower to where he could spread
his fingers, kiss his palms over her softest curves and anchor her to him.
Her breathing hitched as her fingers wove into his hair, and
he pressed her to him, knowing she'd feel him now, unable to stop himself. He
should stop, but instead he kissed her deeper, with wonderment at how intimate
the simple gesture seemed as she opened for him and their tongues slowly
intertwined, raking together his deep sexual desire for her, making him moan
into her mouth, which she echoed back.
Over the past few hours, their restraint had eroded bit by
bit and made way for this moment of unavoidable collision. And he caved into
it, into her warmth and heart. For deep down, he was starved.
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