A Shameful Consequence - By Carol Marinelli Page 0,49

he kissed her harder, undid the wrap of her dress, as he had wanted to before, and peeled it open and down her shoulders. Then stared at the breasts that had entranced him all night. He lowered his head to them as he slid the dress down her arms.

She felt ridiculous, there by the pool in her pants and bra, but the night air was cool on her bare skin and slowly, with his tender attention, she relaxed just a little. His mouth on her breasts was sublime, and she knew that now she could confide, because Nico was more than a lover, he was her heart.

‘I’m scared it will hurt.’ She felt the flutter of his lashes against her breast and knew he had closed his eyes. His mouth stilled and he lifted his head to hers.

He could have kicked himself, thought of how he had been before, understood now why she had halted him, and he said something he meant.

‘I’d never hurt you,’ Nico said, and he hesitated, for, for a second there, he wasn’t just talking about sex. He never made promises like that, never said things to which he would not adhere, but truly he meant it now.

‘Let’s cool off.’ He gestured to the pool and she laughed as he started to take off his suit.

‘We can’t!’

‘Why not?’

‘Because …’ She was shivering with both reluctance and temptation. Reluctance, because it seemed wrong somehow; tempted, because Nico, so uninhibited, was already undressed, and she was gifted again with the sight of his body. Her eyes flicked down to what awaited. He beckoned her to the water.

‘No one can see or hear us.’ He was right. Despina’s house was tucked well away, and the pool was shaded by a huge fig tree. There was nothing to stop her from going in. In fact, Nico was already in. Looking up, she felt his adoring scrutiny as she took off her shoes. She stood and looked down at him as she unhooked her bra and took it off, and she smiled unseen, for he was certainly not looking at her face. And he closed his eyes, just for a second as she slid down her pants, then opened them again to issue an order.

‘Stay there.’ He asked her to stay just to see her, to look just once more at all that he had missed for a year. His eyes told her, told her as they slowly took her in, that this was all he had been thinking of for a very long time now.

And then he held out his hand to her and the water was bliss to slip into, his wet arms better still.

His kiss was slow, measured and tender, but still nerves made her shiver because she could feel every inch of him against her stomach, but there was some relief, for now he was in no rush.

‘Let me wash you.’

He made her smile, but wash her tenderly he did. His hands moved over her, washed her as if they contained soap. He washed her arms and then her fingers and then her back and then her breasts and then he rinsed her, scooped the water over. Then the imaginary soap washed her face and ears with both his mouth and fingers, and so gentle was he, so slow and caressing, that she almost forgot to be scared.

Not even when his hands moved beneath the water, when he washed her most intimate place. When his fingers delicately moved in each crevice, all she could do was lean on his shoulder and nibble and moan against his saltwater skin.

She was as slippery, deep inside, as if he had used soap, Nico could feel it. Now she was ready, and so, absolutely, was he.

She wrapped her legs around him, felt the cold stone against her back. He lowered her down to him and there was no stab like before, just a slow, accepting stretch. The water was calm and still, despite the fire beneath the surface, as she let him take her, as she trusted herself to his skill. He supported her body with his hands, the water barely moving; he was so slow and tender, and then he moved her some more, till she wanted more, till her legs wrapped tighter around him and Connie moved to her own rhythm as he still supported her.

On the surface they were just kissing, kissing mouth, face and shoulders, but they were intimately united beneath, locked in each other, till she