Martine The Beginning (Cruising to Love, The Prequel) by Edwina J White Page A

them was a wisp of lace…He was awake now, she knew that, knew that from the ferocity of his kisses.  His shaft pushed that tiny piece of lace aside, and she felt him, hot and hard, rubbing against her core.  He gasped, and pulled away. 
      “Oh, my darling, Martine, I’m so sorry…”
      “Sorry? Sorry, Lucas?  What are you sorry for?  It was wonderful…wonderful…”
      “I just came, darling.  I just came all over you…”
      Martine smiled.  “Well, my love, you’ve brought me to that peak more than once.  It was your turn…”  He went to rise, and she pushed him back onto the bed.
      “I’ve got to get a towel, darling, and clean
    you …”
      “Later, Lucas.  Later.  I just want us to lie here and enjoy the moment.”
      “Enjoy the moment I lost control?”
      “Enjoy the moment you gave up control, darling.  There’s a difference.”
      Lucas smiled at her.  “You’re quite a woman, for an innocent, darling.  Quite a woman.  All the woman I’ll ever need or want…”
      “And you’re the only man I’ll ever have, Lucas.”
      A while later, Lucas did get up, and get a wash cloth and towel, and cleaned Martine.  He slipped her panties off.  They were covered in his cum …he put them in his laundry hamper.
      They went back to sleep, side by side, holding hands.  Martine ’s head was on Lucas’s shoulder.  They woke again hours later.  It was light. 
      Lucas reached for her. Martine drew her breath in.  Maybe this morning, Lucas would decide not to wait for the wedding night …there was no scrap of lace between them this morning.
      The phone rang.  Lucas jumped up and went into the living room to answer it. 
      Martine could hear him.
      “Hello, Lucas Langdon here…Hello George…yes…no…I see…yes, yes it’s fine that you called early Sunday morning.  That’s what you pay me for…yes…here in London?  Tomorrow, eleven, yes, of course…so I won’t have to come up to Glasgow, you’re coming down here…the Minister…of course…”
      Martine got up and used the bathroom.  A glance at the clock told her it was ten past nine.  She looked at her reflection in the mirror.  Well, she ’d almost lost her virginity.  Almost, not quite.  And Lucas planned to marry her.  That was good. And he wanted a virgin bride…Martine dressed.  Lucas was still on the telephone. 
      She went into the kitchen and made them a pot of tea.  Took a cup to Lucas, still busy on the phone.  He mouthed ‘thank you’ to her.  She smiled.
      This is what being married to Lucas was going to be like.  People with problems calling on Sunday mornings.  She shrugged.  Ten past nine wasn ’t three am.  She could live with it.
      Martine rolled her sleeves up a little more, and rummaged through the kitchen, assembling breakfast. Bacon, a cheese omelet and grilled tomato, she had decided when she saw what she had to work with.  And toast, of course.  Martine was hungry. 
      She grated the cheese, beat the eggs, heated the butter in the pan, and fried the bacon.  Sliced the bread and put it in the toaster, ready to press down.  Turned the grill on ready for the tomatoes.  She heard Lucas hang up and go into the bathroom.  He came into the kitchen shortly, in his jeans.  Bare chest.  He looked so sexy….
      He came up behind her and nibbled her neck.  “Breakfast?  How lucky am I?” he asked her, “I have a sex goddess making me breakfast.”
      He made a fresh pot of tea, and sat at the table as she directed him.  Soon there was a wonderful breakfast in front of him, more wonderful to Lucas because Martine had made it.  He couldn ’t stop smiling at her.
      They ate in compatible silence.  Finally, when Lucas had devoured the last slice of toast and jam, he started to talk about the phone call.
      “That was the man from Glasgow, darling.”
      “So I gathered.”
      “He’d tried to call last night, but we were out at