was pressing herself frantically against him, mindlessly grinding her hips into his body, desperately searching for even closer contact with his aroused hardness.
The hand caressing her breast started to stroke it rhythmically, Alex’s fingertips teasing her nipple to a stiff point beneath her gauzy bra, playing with it, flicking it with a tormenting gentleness that made Beth tremble from head to foot with hungry need.
In the mirror now their bodies were so closely entwined, so sensuously entwined, that they might almost already have been lovers. Beth moaned longingly, reaching out to cover Alex’s hand with her own, wanting to urge him to remove the barrier of her bra. She was acting on instinct alone now, driven by a female urge programmed into her by nature itself, and, in obeying it, she had as little choice as a lemming following its preordained life path.
When Alex resisted her attempt to guide him to do what she wanted she growled her female frustration at having her need left unsatisfied beneath his kiss, making a low, keening sound that had no words but which Alex seemed immediately able to translate.
‘I can’t,’ he told her hoarsely, his hand burning hot against her swollen breast. ‘If I do, if I see you...touch you...’
His eyes flashed signals of stormy male desire, the sweetly savage bite of his teeth against the tenderness of her kiss-sensitive lips betraying how he would treat the tormenting and tormented sensitivity of her aroused nipples if she made him remove their frail protective covering. But Beth had gone beyond the safety of heeding any kind of warning.
Something—she neither knew nor cared what—had snapped the taut barrier she had wrapped around her feelings, her responses, her right to enjoy her female sexuality.
It was as though all the hurt she had experienced, all the anger, all the fear and distress, the humiliation and the pain had coalesced, exploded, burned itself out in a fierce transmuting heat that had turned her from her previously shy, inhibited, immature self into a powerfully strong and sexually motivated woman, a woman whose body demanded, expected and intended to have nothing less than total satisfaction of its deepest and most privately, primitively intimate sexual desires.
To her own shock, and her own fierce joy, she recognised that the Beth who had imagined the only way she could ever really enjoy sex would be in the arms of a gentle, considerate lover who would treat her as carefully as a delicately made piece of fragile glass had suddenly been replaced by a Beth who knew instinctively that what she wanted now was to enjoy sex in its rawest, purest, hottest form possible.
Like the silica at its most molten fluid form, she wanted to be taken into the creative care of an expert, an artist, a master of his craft—and of her. She wanted to watch, to be, as he poured the golden liquid form of her being into the crucible of heat that was their mutual desire. She wanted to feel the sharply passionate grate of his teeth against her tender flesh, to feel him being driven by his desire for her in the same way that Adam had been driven to eat the forbidden fruit handed to him by Eve. She wanted to be Alex’s forbidden fruit, she recognised dazedly.
‘Do it,’ she commanded him tautly, dragging his hand down so that his fingers caught in the edge of her bra, revealing the soft shimmer of her naked skin and the beginnings of the wantonly dark areola of her nipple.
Her robe was fully open now, and hanging off her arms. In the mirror Beth could see her own near-naked body.
‘Do it,’ she repeated hypnotically, her eyes wide and dark as she stared up into Alex’s.
‘You don’t know what...’ he began, but Beth shook her head.
‘Do it,’ she told him a third time, holding his gaze as she let her own hand drop away from his.
She could feel his fingers trembling oh, so slightly as he splayed them across her breast, almost as though he wanted to cover her,
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