The Englishman - By Nina Lewis Page 0,172

raises his head, and we realize in the same second that the condoms are still in the bedroom cupboard.

I say what no woman should say in a situation like this.

“Well, of course I had a full medical before they let me sign my contract.”

“I had one when I came back from England.”

“Needed one, did you?” I ask, jealous, turn my head and bite into the inside of his arm. “And how many women have you had since then?”

“Only one.”

Damn him! And damn her!

“And did you have unprotected sex with her?” I ask politely.

“Only once.”

“What?”

“In the observatory, you silly girl! You know this! You were there!”

“Oh.” I can feel my ears turning red. “That’s true…how reckless.”

“Can I trust you?” he asks me seriously.

“Yes!”

“Then let me come into you.”

And suddenly I’m frightened. He straightens up, on his knees in front of the sofa, and my hands go to his wrists—to hold onto him, to steady myself, not to stop him, although I’m so frightened that I stop breathing. It is an eternity since I’ve been so close to a man—have I ever been so close to a man?—and now here it is, here he is. So lovely, with his hair falling across his forehead. So lovely, and so grave. He looks up from the few inches of space between us.

“Breathe…”

The sound that comes from my chest is something between a laugh and a sob; I grab his wrists more tightly, painfully, I think, but he is beyond feeling my fingers when we are both staring down at the engorged arch of his flesh; how smooth and soft and vulnerable it looks, especially the head, unhooded now, naked to my gaze, and naked to my own dark, secret flesh.

“You’re tense.” His voice is worried, reluctant.

My chest is rising and falling fast now, but my fingers let go of him.

“Yes…I’m frightened.”

The corners of his gray-dappled eyes crease as a tiny light of amusement flickers in them. Self-irony. At the drop of a hat, at the erection of a penis, he is ready to distance himself from himself, look on, and sneer.

“I’m frightened, too.” He doesn’t say that ironically at all.

I wriggle higher up onto the sofa so that I can rest my head against the back and my heels on the edge of the seat.

“He isn’t.” I smile, nodding at the alert, eager animal that rises from its nest of grizzled hair. It twitches, and a few drops of transparent liquid run down the shaft. That makes me smile even more; I like that he likes being looked at.

“No, because he can’t see beyond the tip of his…nose.”

That makes me giggle, and him, too, but he doesn’t want to be distracted now. He clasps my hands, our fingers interlock, and he cautiously nuzzles the tip of his cock into my hot, expectant flesh. Slowly. Cautiously. Just the tip. Moves his hips in slow, short, probing thrusts, and his schlong glances up from its aim, wetting its belly in my sopping folds. I grip his fingers harder and it dips down, dips its head deep, slides slow and deep into me. Deep, and slow, at first, but I’m gone already; I gulp air into the tiniest vessel of my lungs—and then the noise is deafening. The dogs, snoring to our quiet exchanges, are up and join in the chorus of human voices. I don’t know that I screamed, but I must have done; my throat feels tight with need, and Giles is shouting at the dogs to be quiet, but of course that doesn’t help at all.

“Oh, don’t shout!” I gasp, between tears and laughter. “They’re just preventing murder in their pack!”

Andrew, tail wagging, comes up to us and sniffs at the skin of my belly, which sends me into another fit of giggles.

“Back off, Andrew! This one’s mine!”

Andrew sits on his hind legs but woofs with indignation.

“That’s right! I’m top dog here, and this one—this one’s my bitch, so—stop yapping! And you—” He glares down at me, very hot and bothered. “And you, stop laughing!”

“Yes, but—”

“Hold on. Hold on to me!”

One arm clamped around my waist, the other hand under my butt, he lifts me up and strides over to the open kitchen door. Giggling, I wrap every available limb around his body, although he’s still so hard inside me that I could balance on his cock alone.

“In there! Go on, in!” The dogs bustle into the kitchen, and he slams the door behind them. “And now, Professor Lieberman…” I feel the warm wall

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