shoulder:
‘Katie and Kirstie, Granny’s got your breakfast ready downstairs. Why don’t you go down and get started while I teach Aunty Cara the rules about tickling?’
The girls scampered off, their laughter ringing down the hall as they went in search of their grandmother.
He turned back to Cara, locked between his forearms on either side of her waist. She met his dark gaze, her stomach tilting at the glitter of naked desire reflected there.
‘So,’ she said in an attempt at lightening the atmosphere, ‘what exactly are the rules of tickling?’
She watched as his mouth stretched into a smile and her stomach gave another lurch.
‘The golden rule is, don’t do it if you can’t take it yourself.’ His voice was deep and silky. ‘Can you take it, Cara?’
‘I…’ She swallowed as his mouth came closer. ‘I think so…’
‘Let’s see, shall we?’
His mouth closed over hers and she felt herself sink into the mattress on a sigh of pleasure at the caress of his lips. He deepened the kiss, sending her even further back into the mattress. Her legs opened to make room for him as he stretched over her. She could feel his hard length so close it was a torment to have both the barrier of clothes and the bedlinen that still encased her trembling legs.
He slid one warm hand under her silky pyjama top, his fingers sliding over the aroused peak of one breast until she thought she would cry out with the sensation. He removed his hand and lowered his head, taking her nipple into the cavern of his hot mouth, rolling his tongue over the tight bud, grazing her tender flesh with his teeth. She writhed under his ministrations, her breathing hard, as if she’d just run a race. He left her breasts briefly to return to her mouth, his tongue taking hers on a dance of probe and retreat until all thought was driven from her mind.
She could only think of his body pressing hers to the mattress, his pulsing arousal almost burning through the fabric that separated her soft flesh from him. She could feel him poised, ready and eager to take her to the heights of fulfilment. She could sense the urgency of his need as he explored her mouth. She could feel her own response in secret, preparing her for the slide of his rigid form that would completely fill her aching emptiness.
There was the sound of voices just outside the door and Byron lifted himself from her, his expression rueful as he dragged a hand through his dark hair.
‘I’ll finish this later,’ he promised as he stood up. ‘I’ll see you downstairs—I think that’s the breakfast cue.’
Cara could hear the sound of voices as the family gathered downstairs in the big kitchen. She heard Patrick ask his father if the paper had been delivered, and she heard Sally implore Katie to wash her hands after touching the cat. Sounds of the house coming to life filled her ears, but all she could think about was his promise. He was going to finish what he’d started later.
After a quick shower, she came downstairs. Byron’s mother handed her a bowl and directed her towards the breakfast buffet she’d laid out on the sideboard.
The kitchen table was surrounded by the rest of the family in the process of eating breakfast, and she murmured a shy greeting.
‘Mummy, Aunty Cara is telling us a story,’ Katie said with her mouth full of scrambled eggs.
‘Don’t speak with your mouth full, darling,’ Sally said before adding, ‘That’s nice of her. What’s it about?’
‘It’s about a little girl who doesn’t have anyone to love her,’ Kirstie put in.
‘How sad.’ Sally flicked a brief glance towards Cara before turning back to her daughters. ‘Does it have a happy ending?’
‘We don’t know,’ Katie said dramatically. ‘It’s to be continued.’
‘I love happy endings,’ Kirstie said dreamily. ‘Does she get to kiss a handsome prince in the end?’ she asked Cara, her chin on her hands.
Cara smiled wistfully. ‘Yes, she does.’
‘Yuk!’
‘Katie and Kirstie, Granny’s got your breakfast ready downstairs. Why don’t you go down and get started while I teach Aunty Cara the rules about tickling?’
The girls scampered off, their laughter ringing down the hall as they went in search of their grandmother.
He turned back to Cara, locked between his forearms on either side of her waist. She met his dark gaze, her stomach tilting at the glitter of naked desire reflected there.
‘So,’ she said in an attempt at lightening the atmosphere, ‘what exactly are the rules of tickling?’
She watched as his mouth stretched into a smile and her stomach gave another lurch.
‘The golden rule is, don’t do it if you can’t take it yourself.’ His voice was deep and silky. ‘Can you take it, Cara?’
‘I…’ She swallowed as his mouth came closer. ‘I think so…’
‘Let’s see, shall we?’
His mouth closed over hers and she felt herself sink into the mattress on a sigh of pleasure at the caress of his lips. He deepened the kiss, sending her even further back into the mattress. Her legs opened to make room for him as he stretched over her. She could feel his hard length so close it was a torment to have both the barrier of clothes and the bedlinen that still encased her trembling legs.
He slid one warm hand under her silky pyjama top, his fingers sliding over the aroused peak of one breast until she thought she would cry out with the sensation. He removed his hand and lowered his head, taking her nipple into the cavern of his hot mouth, rolling his tongue over the tight bud, grazing her tender flesh with his teeth. She writhed under his ministrations, her breathing hard, as if she’d just run a race. He left her breasts briefly to return to her mouth, his tongue taking hers on a dance of probe and retreat until all thought was driven from her mind.
She could only think of his body pressing hers to the mattress, his pulsing arousal almost burning through the fabric that separated her soft flesh from him. She could feel him poised, ready and eager to take her to the heights of fulfilment. She could sense the urgency of his need as he explored her mouth. She could feel her own response in secret, preparing her for the slide of his rigid form that would completely fill her aching emptiness.
There was the sound of voices just outside the door and Byron lifted himself from her, his expression rueful as he dragged a hand through his dark hair.
‘I’ll finish this later,’ he promised as he stood up. ‘I’ll see you downstairs—I think that’s the breakfast cue.’
Cara could hear the sound of voices as the family gathered downstairs in the big kitchen. She heard Patrick ask his father if the paper had been delivered, and she heard Sally implore Katie to wash her hands after touching the cat. Sounds of the house coming to life filled her ears, but all she could think about was his promise. He was going to finish what he’d started later.
After a quick shower, she came downstairs. Byron’s mother handed her a bowl and directed her towards the breakfast buffet she’d laid out on the sideboard.
The kitchen table was surrounded by the rest of the family in the process of eating breakfast, and she murmured a shy greeting.
‘Mummy, Aunty Cara is telling us a story,’ Katie said with her mouth full of scrambled eggs.
‘Don’t speak with your mouth full, darling,’ Sally said before adding, ‘That’s nice of her. What’s it about?’
‘It’s about a little girl who doesn’t have anyone to love her,’ Kirstie put in.
‘How sad.’ Sally flicked a brief glance towards Cara before turning back to her daughters. ‘Does it have a happy ending?’
‘We don’t know,’ Katie said dramatically. ‘It’s to be continued.’
‘I love happy endings,’ Kirstie said dreamily. ‘Does she get to kiss a handsome prince in the end?’ she asked Cara, her chin on her hands.
Cara smiled wistfully. ‘Yes, she does.’
‘Yuk!’
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