Black Orchid (15 page)

It was a kiss like no other that Emily had ever experienced.
She had braced herself for a hard, demanding onslaught, but
it never came. Brett brushed his lips over the fullness of hers
so lightly that they tingled, before he planted a tiny, butterfly
kiss at the corner of her mouth. Slowly, his eyes still holding
hers, he worked his way along her mouth in a series of minute
kisses.

Using his thumb, he gently pulled down her lower lip so
that the soft, wet flesh inside was exposed. Emily's eyes
fluttered to a close as he ran his tongue along the intimate,
tender flesh before covering her mouth with his.

Even then, the kiss was gentle, though, strangely, it was not
tentative. He seemed to be drawing out the pleasure of his first
taste of her, savouring the warm, honeyed sweetness of her
mouth while pressing her more tightly against him. Emily's
lips parted slightly as he applied the lightest pressure against
the forbidding barrier of her teeth and she welcomed the heat
of his mouth over hers.

She frowned as he slowly pulled away, her eyes flying open
as a rush of cool air came between them. He was looking at
her quizzically, silently asking if she wanted to continue. Emily
trembled slightly in his arms, aware that her breasts had
swollen in their lacy restraint, and that a liquid fire was smouldering
in her secret places.

She wanted him to carry on, cursed him for breaking into
the sensual thrall in which he had enveloped her. Now she
had time to think, the cold, irrational fear curled up from her
toes and took hold, beginning to consume her.

A frown passed fleetingly over Brett's dark face before he
reclaimed her mouth. Emily resisted him for a few seconds
before slipping mercifully back into the realms of sensation.
The cool, searching lips were nothing like the rough, snarling
mouth of the man who had attacked her. The long, sensitive
fingers now playing up and down her spine were as different
as they could be from those cruel, hurting hands which had
haunted her for so long.

Emily whimpered, deep in her throat and Brett pulled away
again, scanning her face with tender, caring eyes. As if reading
the fear, reflected in her pupils, he kissed her eyelids closed,
covering her face in kisses as he bent her back over his arm,
exposing the long white column of her throat.

The whimper turned into a gasp of pleasure as his cool,
seeking lips travelled down from her chin to the sensitive
hollow at the join of her collar-bone. She felt his tongue dart
out and caress the soft skin there before he turned his attention
to the line of her jaw. Travelling from one ear to the other,
he explored the sensitve skin beneath her jawline with lips
and tongue, tickling and tantalising until Emily was desperate
for him to return to her mouth.

With a small groan of frustration, she caught his face between
her two hands and brought it up to hers. She felt his lips curve
into a small smile of satisfaction as she initiated the kiss. This
time, it was more urgent. His lips were more demanding on
hers, pushing them back against her teeth. Yet instead of frightening
her, as it might have mere minutes before, the urgency
of the kiss only served to increase the hard core of pleasure
building deep in her womb.

She was more than ready for the intrusion of his tongue,
tentatively at first, then probing deeper as she drew it in. He
tasted of good red wine and rich chocolate and she sucked on
him, relishing the echo of the meal they had just shared.

Gradually, Emily became aware that by his holding her more
closely against him, she could now feel the evidence of his
arousal that he had been careful to conceal from her before. It
nudged her thigh, a swollen, demanding animal, independent
of its owner. She pulled away abruptly.

'I . . . the music . . . You change the music while I go . . .
er . . . while I go to the bathroom.'

She did not give Brett a chance to react, she had rushed
through the open bedroom door and into the small
en suite
bathroom locking the door behind her.

Once inside, she went into autopilot, using the lavatory and
flushing it before washing her hands at the little sink. Catching
a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror tiles, she stopped in
her tracks. She hardly recognised herself! Her cheeks were
flushed, her hair dishelleved. Her hazel eyes looked unnaturally
bright, her lips full and red. And this was the effect a kiss could
have on her?

Emily stood and stared at her reflection for a few minutes,
waiting for her heartbeat to slow. She began to feel ridiculous.
Kissing Brett had been wholly unlike anything she had ever
experienced before, a delicious, enjoyable experience which
she hadn't wanted to end. It was only when she felt the hardness
of him, the impossible, masculine
size
of it . . .

Where was it she had read that size didn't matter, it was
what one did with it that mattered? Emily giggled, a trifle
hysterically. She was sure that was advice given to the under-endowed,
not a generously sized man like Brett!

Emily bit her lip. Perhaps there was some truth in what the
magazines said. That other man had used his tool like a battering
ram, an instrument of torture. From what she knew of him, she
couldn't imagine Brett hurting her. Unless he was a complete
Jekyll and Hyde.

She jumped as there was a soft knock at the door.

'Are you all right in there?'

She smiled at the concern in his voice, sorry that she had
caused it.

'Yes, I . . . I'll be out in a minute.'

She listened as his footsteps receded before holding her cold
hands under the warm flow of water, absorbing the heat.

When she went back into the lounge, Brett was sitting on
one of the sofas, his dark head resting against its back, his eyes
closed. Emily stood quietly and watched him for a moment.
He had taken off the green jumper and loosened his tie. Several
crisp, black curls escaped over the open collar of his shirt. Their
wine glasses sat, refilled, on the coffee table and another classical CD was playing.

Less inhibited now that his eyes were closed, Emily's gaze
roved to the apex of his thighs which were spread casually,
bent at the knee. She could see no sign of that hot tumescence
which had so worried her before. Watching him sitting, relaxed
and confident on the sofa, Emily felt a mule's kick of need, the
like of which she had never felt before.

It startled her to realise that she wanted him. Yet she did
not know how to overcome the fears that blighted her desire.
Trust. She had to trust him. Emily took a deep breath.

Slowly, so as not to alert him to her presence, she crept across
the room until she was standing between his outstretched
thighs. She watched with bated breath as he opened his eyes
and saw her standing there. He smiled and reached up to grasp
both her hands in his.

Emily allowed herself to be pulled onto his lap, wrapping
her arms around his neck automatically to regain her balance.
He dipped his head and nuzzled the warm swell of her breasts
under the indian cotton blouse, breathing in the woman-scent
of her before reaching up and pulling her head down to meet
his.

As his mouth fused with hers, Emily felt the unfamiliar
warmth spread from the centre of her through her body,
causing her arms and legs to grow heavy and her eyelids to
droop. She entangled her fingers in his thick, dark hair, clinging
on as he dazzled her senses, stroking the soft, sensitive skin of
her mouth with the tip of his tongue, drawing out responses
she had never dreamed she was capable of.

She barely noticed when his hand edged upwards from
where it rested at her waist and began to fondle the underswell
of her breasts. As he gently disengaged his mouth from hers,
Emily found to her surprise that she was panting lightly,
gasping for breath as she sought to bring her racing heart
under control.

Brett had unfastened the thin ties at the modesty-preserving
neck of her blouse and Emily looked down at herself through
half-closed eyes. Against the floral prettiness of the gypsy style
top, the creamy swell of her breasts looked shocking. Swollen
with passion, they fought against the restraint of the dainty,
lacy black bra, on the verge of spilling out over the top.

Emily's first instinct was to reach down, to cover herself, but
even as she thought it, Brett's dark head blocked her view and
she felt the gentle rasp of his tongue in the dark valley between
her breasts. She gasped as he gathered up one trembling globe
in his hand and brought it up to meet his lips.

The first touch of his tongue against her hardening nipple
sent sharp needles of sensation jabbing through her body,
down to her hot, moist centre. Caught between panic and need,
Emily groaned, unable to stop herself from thrusting forward,
inviting him to enclose the aching tip of her breast with his
seeking lips.

And as her straining nipple was drawn into the hot, wet
cavern of his mouth, Emily allowed her tightly pressed thighs
to relax and fall apart and she released a long, shuddering sigh
of surrender.

Brett's fingertips worked a tantalisingly slow path from her knee
under her long, flowing skirt along the outside of her thigh. Her
legs were bare, the skin warm and soft and his fingers glided
smoothly across the naked skin.

Emily felt the goosebumps rise on her flesh as he reached
the uppermost part of her groin before returning to her knee.
This time he worked his way up her inner thigh. With
infinite slowness, he raised his head from her breast and
sought her mouth as his fingertips reached the uppermost
part of her thigh and his hand enveloped her lace-covered
mound.

As he squeezed gently, experimentally, Emily opened her
eyes and was caught by his intense dark gaze. He held her eye
as if gauging her reaction as he slipped his forefinger into the
elastic of her briefs and stroked the moist curls within with
the back of his finger.

Emily's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening with
alarm as he began to deepen the caress. Instantly, he stopped,
returning to the gentle stroking movement as he turned the
main thrust of his attention to her mouth.

It opened in sweet surrender under his and Emily's eyes
fluttered to a close. She clung to him, her fingers digging into
his shoulders as he plundered the secret recesses of her mouth,
his fingers curling possessively over the damp curls at the apex
of her thighs.

A small sound, half protest, half agreement, escaped her lips
as he suddenly removed his hands and mouth, bringing his
arms about her, one around her shoulders, the other beneath
her knees. She held onto him tightly as, with one sure, graceful
movement, he rose, sweeping her up into his arms as if she
were weightless.

'Hush,' he whispered against her hair, 'trust me.'

And she did. Leaning her head against the hard pillow of
his chest, Emily allowed him to carry her out of the living room
and into the bedroom beyond, kicking the door shut behind
him. He lay her on the bed, gentling her with kisses as she
murmured a half-hearted protest.

The bedroom was dark, lit only by two dim lamps at either
side of the bed and by the diffuse light of the full moon
which filtered through the uncurtained window. The moonlight
illuminated the hard planes of Brett's face, casting eerie
shadows across his features as he rose and stood at the end
of the bed.

Emily's mouth felt dry as she watched him slowly unbutton
his shirt and shrug it off, discarding it carelessly on the floor.
Moonbeams silvered his smooth skin as she feasted her eyes
on the broad sweep of his shoulders. The cords of his neck were
prominent, disappearing into the thick, curly mat of dark hair
which covered his pecs and tapered down in a perfect 'V'
towards his navel.

His stomach was flat and hard, the tracery of well-toned
muscles visible under the taut skin. Emily's eyes followed the
line of hair down to where it disappeared into the waistband
of his trousers. He was hard, an unmistakable tumescence
stretching the fabric. Emily's eyes darted back up to his and
she swallowed against the unwelcome spasm of alarm which
gripped her.

The expression in his eyes reassured her, for while they were
intent and knowing, she could still see the gentleness which
was so much a part of him, in their depths. Gentleness and
strength – it was a powerful combination. Emily's lips curved
slowly into a smile.

She felt she should participate in some way, should perhaps
remove her own clothes, but a residue of shyness remained.
Besides, she wanted to concentrate on the spectacle of Brett's
belt sliding slowly, inexorably through the belt loops before he
began to unbutton his fly.

He was wearing boxer shorts underneath, black cotton,
which barely contained his masculinity. Dark hair curled on
his tightly muscled thighs and Emily's fingers itched to reach
out and touch him. Would his body hair be coarse and rough,
or silky soft? Still she held back, unsure how to behave, afraid
that if she moved the old fears would return with a vengeance
and stop her wanting him.

For she
did
want him. More than anything she could ever
remember wanting, she wanted to possess Brett, wanted to
feel the beautiful body which was now standing, motionless,
in front of her, melding with her own.

She held her breath as he came round to the side of the bed.
It dipped under his weight as he sat next to her, leaning on
one bent elbow and regarding her for a long moment, his
expression inscrutable. She lay, motionless as a rag doll as he
began to undress her.

First he removed her blouse, pulling it up over her head and
casting it aside. He dispensed nimbly with the inadequate
black bra, running the palm of his hand lightly over the hard
nubs of her breasts before turning his attention to her skirt.
She lifted her hips obligingly as he pulled it down and it went
to join the rest of their clothes on the floor.

She was naked now but for the black lace panties. They felt
damp between her thighs as Emily squirmed under his scrutiny.
Then Brett dipped his head and began to kiss downwards,
from her neck. By the time he reached her navel, she knew
that she was beautiful.

Every kiss, every movement of his darting tongue convinced
her of his desire. Her skin burned in his wake, her limbs trembling
with the strength of her reaction to him. She lay motionless, her
breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he caressed the soft,
sensitive skin between each of her toes with the tip of his
tongue.

Tentatively, she gathered up her own breasts in her hands
and was shocked by the rigid swell of her nipples, pressing
into her palms. Brett sucked lightly on her big toe and she felt
tension knot in her stomach. She wanted to feel him close to
her, wanted to press her female softness against the long, lean
length of his body.

'Brett,' she whispered, 'hold me . . . please.'

Her voice sounded hoarse, deep, completely unlike itself as
he slid up the bed and took her in his arms. She buried her
face in the moist musky depths of his chest and closed her
eyes. Her fingers shook as she laid her hand on his chest. His
hair was coarse, yet surprisingly soft. One neat, male nipple
pressed against her palm and she cautiously rubbed it, pulling
her hand away as if stung when it responded by growing
hard.

'It's all right,' he murmured against her hair, as if sensing
the imminent return of her fears, 'I'm not going to hurt you.'

'Do it now then, Brett, now, quickly, before I change my mind
again!'

'Wait . . . there's more, Emily, so much more!'

'Please!' her fingers worked feverishly at the button of his
boxer shorts. 'There'll be time afterwards for all the rest!'

'Emily . . .'

'I need to have you inside me! Before my body closes against
you . . . Oh!'

Her fingers closed around the hard, silky column of his penis.
It stirred slightly against her palm and her wide eyes were
drawn to the naked crown. Tentatively, she ran her thumb
across the tip, surprised and delighted to find the skin there
velvet soft, newborn.

Brett's breathing sounded shallower and she flicked her eyes
upwards, gauging his reaction. He was regarding her through
narrowed eyes and there was a tension about the way he held
his jaw which gave her a little thrill of power.

It had to be now. Even while she lusted after him, she could
feel the tiny, insidious tendrils of fear curling in her stomach,
reaching out and invading every part of her. Aware that she must
seem desperate, she drew him closer to her, rubbing the tip of
him against her bare thigh as she lay back on the pillows.

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.