Season of Desire: Complete Edition (45 page)

‘Do you?’ I say softly. ‘Prove it.’

He stands up and walks round to me, lifting me to my feet in a smooth, strong moment, and pulling me to his chest. ‘You’d better come with me,’ he said. ‘This lesson is a practical.’

Chapter Twenty-Five

Hotel suites are made for love. The bed is huge, the linen luxurious, and we are utterly private. We kiss hungrily as we go from the table in the sitting room to the bedroom, taking off our clothes and strewing them behind us. We move together, not wanting to take our mouths from each other, as we unzip, unbutton and pull off our clothes with eager fingers. Miles’s crisp shirt is left draped over the damask sofa, my navy dress is soon a silken puddle on the pale wool carpet. Each time a new bit of his skin is revealed, I want to worship it: the curve of his shoulder, the hard bulge of his bicep, the dark nipples in the sprinkling of black hair, the rippled torso. He’s as hungry for me as I am for him, moaning with pleasure at the sight of my breasts rising from their black satin bra and running his hands round my waist. His tongue probes my mouth as I welcome it, relishing his taste, the passion in the way he wants to explore every part of me. My hands roam over his broad back as we reach our bedroom. We abandon our shoes in the doorway. I’m in my underwear now; Miles is still wearing his trousers but I don’t want that to be the case for long. My hands are busy at his waistband and zipper. My fingertips brush against the hardness inside his boxer shorts and I’m filled with a rush of hot excitement.

Oh God, I’ve wanted this so much.

I’m shaking with need as I undo his trousers and push them downwards. He steps out of the trousers, leaving them on the floor. I can see the evidence of his desire now, the rearing erection that’s pushing out the soft cotton of his shorts, and it makes my stomach flip over with longing. My sex pulses in response to the sight of Miles’s massiveness, the iron-hard rod that I hope he’ll soon be plunging into me.

He pulls me to him, pressing the hot length against my belly. It seems to reach all the way from the top of my mound to past my belly button and I gasp with longing for it. His strong arms envelop me, his mouth roughly taking possession of mine.

He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around him, then, still kissing me, he carries me with ease to the bed and lies me down there, our mouths parting reluctantly. I gaze up at him, panting, ready for him right now and yet not wanting to hurry this exquisite moment when we’re burning with the anticipation of what’s to come.

Miles reaches for two of the pillows and puts them under my bottom, raising me up to him so that my sex, still encased in black satin, is tilted towards him. Then he sinks down, his hands caressing my thighs, pushing them open slowly so that he can cover the soft skin with kisses. His tongue comes out to lick me. He kisses my knees, licking just underneath before nibbling with delicate tickling bites at the flesh of my inner thighs.

I’m gasping with the pleasure of it, arching my back as the light butterfly bites and kisses flutter up the inside of my legs, as his hands run down my calves, massage my feet and caress my toes. This feels so beautiful. One of my hand plays in his dark hair as his head moves about, tasting my skin, and other is at my breast, feeling my own curves, pinching the hard nipple under its satin covering, or running over my neck, my fingers at my mouth, feeling my tongue come out to play over them. I want Miles everywhere at once, his lips and fingers busy at every pleasure point. But he’s tantalising me deliciously as he rubs his face across my thighs, sucking the skin, grazing his teeth over it. He’s so close to where my hot juices are welling up, coating me with readiness for him. I’m twitching with the desire my little bud feels to have some of the attention Miles is lavishing on my legs. He pinches my toes and scratches lightly at the soles of my feet, making my clit swell and quiver with longing for the same treatment. His mouth is getting closer to me and I push my thighs wider apart so that he can reach me easily. He murmurs as his lips run right up to the top of my inner thigh.

‘Oh, Winter, you’re delicious. I’ve missed you so much. I have to taste you again.’

He slides my knickers down over my thighs. His mouth is close to my lips now, his nose pressing on my mound, his teasing breath running over my entrance and blowing lightly on my bud where it emerges, eager for his touch.

The tip of Miles’s tongue touches me very gently, sending electric currents of pleasure sizzling along every nerve. He teases me with the soft tip, as it comes out to lick me in feather-light movements, going from just below my clit downwards towards my entrance. I want to press myself up to meet his face, but instead I try to control my panting breaths, licking my own lips and biting them with longing. Now he’s back, moving upwards.

Take me in, Miles, kiss me and suck me, please
 . . .
!

His mouth is at my clit now and I moan loudly as, at last, his tongue comes out to touch me, making a burst of pleasure explode through me, travelling outwards from my core. He starts to work on me, putting pressure on to my bud as he licks and kisses it. I can feel his fingers now, trailing up my thighs to where my entrance is hot and slippery, waiting for him with hungry need. As he nibbles and licks my bud, his fingers play there, teasing me as he presses one tip and then another into my hole. Then, as I gasp, he pushes in three fingers, reaching deep inside me.

I cry out, thrusting my hips up to meet his fingers, my hands pressing down on his head to make his mouth harder on my clit as his tongue flicks back and forth over it, making those electric tingles flash out all over me, bringing me closer to the brink.

‘Miles! That’s . . . oh God! That’s beautiful!’ I’m gasping as I talk, bucking my hips to his mouth.

He pulls away and a moment later, his wet mouth is on mine, his tongue covered with my juices plunging deep into me, twisting around mine so that I can taste myself on him.

He’s between my thighs now, his hot erection pressing against me. Miles pulls his mouth from mine and presses his fingers between my lips. They’re slippery too, ripe with the taste of my desire and I suck them eagerly, wrapping my tongue around them, caressing them, while I reach down to the huge hard cock that’s pressing against me. I pull it out through the gap at the front of his shorts, and wrap my fingers around the hot girth. Massaging it against my palm, I move the skin up and down, taking it over the tip of his cock and making him groan with delight. He takes his fingers from my mouth and takes them back to my sex, where his fingertips begin to rub and tickle at my clit, smoothing down to my entrance to anoint them in the honeyed wetness there and then bringing them back to toy with me again.

I play with his cock while our tongues are entwined, but I don’t know how long I can wait for him now. I’m ready to come from the unbearably delicious tickling on my clit and the way he suddenly pushes his fingers into my depths. I push at the cotton shorts he’s still wearing and release him entirely from them. Now I can feel his flesh, the hardness of his muscle, his firm thighs and buttocks.

‘Miles . . .’ I pull away from his mouth and gaze up into his dark blue eyes that are burning into mine. ‘I can’t wait any longer. Please . . . fuck me . . .’

‘Freya,’ he moans. ‘I want you so much. Your beautiful body . . .’ He moves so that he’s between my thighs, kneeling on the edge of the bed. I’m still propped on my cushions, my hips tilted up to him. He gazes down, evidently savouring the sight of my open sex. He puts one hand on my waist as if to stabilise me, and with the other holds his cock, ready to push it into me. He has to press it downwards so that it rests at my upturned entrance. I gasp as I feel its hot velvety tip against me.

‘Yes, now, please . . .’ I beg.

He makes a low sound in his throat, almost like a growl, as he thrusts forward slowly, pushing his cock home with that exquisite control that enables me to feel every centimetre as I widen and stretch around that hard width, and he fills me up to my belly. He goes in as deep as he can, until I can feel his balls against me and my breath comes in short shallow pants as though his cock is forcing it out of me, he’s so far inside.

We’re utterly joined now, as close as it’s possible to be. I’m replete with him. We stay like that for a while, gazing at each other, relishing the beautiful sensations of my body tight around his, his hard penis inside me. If we could stay like this forever, I would. Is this heaven? Is it the closest thing to bliss we can ever know?

But we can’t stay like this for too long, our bodies won’t let us. His cock twitches with need inside me and we begin to answer the call of the ancient rhythm as he starts to thrust in and out, while I bring my hips up to meet him, my clit pressing against his body, taking pleasure from the friction as we fuck.

We make it last as long as we can, going as slowly as our bodies will let us, until the desire we have for each other builds to an irresistible pitch. The pillows beneath me are allowing him to reach so far inside, I feel as though he’s found new depths within me. As we pick up pace, he puts his hands to my waists and moves me in time with his thrusts, fucking me harder and harder. I’m moaning loudly now, my own arms thrown out, my hands clutching at the covers with the force of the delight I’m experiencing.

Miles lets go of my waist and pulls me to him with one arm, his other taking his weight as he gasps and moans.

‘Oh God, I’m going to come, Freya,’ he pants. ‘You’re making me come, sweetheart, I can’t stop it.’

His words send a powerful thrill over me, and my own excitement goes up a notch. Ripples of pleasure start flowing out from my core, heading for every nerve in my body. I know I’m about to come too. It’s taking me up in steps, as though I’m climbing a staircase of pleasure. My whole body is seized by it as suddenly the convulsions come, each one engulfing me in a wave of harsh pleasure. My head is thrown back, twisting as I cry each time it takes me in its clutches and shakes me in its grip. It’s so powerful it’s almost close to unbearable. As my orgasm shatters around me, I can feel Miles’s cock throbbing inside, swelling to its maximum as it shoots out his climax.

I’m almost sobbing as the waves diminish and leave me panting and exhausted, Miles collapsed on top of me, his breath loud in my ear, his weight heavy on me.

When I can speak again, I run my hand over his broad back. He’s still hard inside me. ‘That was beautiful. Thank you.’

‘You’re beautiful.’ He turns his face to mine and kisses me gently. ‘Thank
you
.’ He smiles. ‘I’m afraid it was rather a straightforward lesson this time. But heartfelt.’

I smile back. ‘You know what? I must be a rather simple character after all. Because these ones are my favourite.’

Miles rolls off me and we lie together for long, silent minutes. I listen to his heart beating in his chest and run my fingers over the warmth of his skin. His hand holds my other, occasionally lifting it to his lips so that he can kiss my fingertips.

‘Miles?’ I say softly. I don’t know if this is the time, but I have to know the truth before we can make any real decisions about our future.

‘Hmm?’

‘There’s something I want to ask you . . . About your other girlfriend.’

He stiffens and says, ‘My other girlfriend?’ in a wary voice.

‘Yes – the one you told me about. The one who died.’

He turns to look at me, frowning. ‘My girlfriend who died . . .’

‘Yes. You told me about her in the chalet in Klosters. I asked if you were running away from a woman and you said yes, but that she was dead.’

He nods slowly. ‘Oh yes. I remember. But what makes you think she was my girlfriend?’

‘Wasn’t she?’ I ask, surprised. ‘I just assumed . . .’

Miles sighs and closes his eyes for a moment. ‘No. She wasn’t my girlfriend. I never met her – not properly anyway.’

There’s a pause while I take this in. ‘You never
met
her?’ I almost hold my breath waiting for his answer.

‘I left the army because I failed her. She was called Emma Trent, and she was one of life’s good guys. Born into a solid happy family, given a good education and everything she could want . . . and she decides to spend her life giving back what she can. Emma went to a top university, studied medicine and could have had a very comfortable life and career. But instead she went to Afghanistan to help the people there, working for nothing and risking her life for others.’

I’m very quiet, listening hard.

‘She spent three years saving lives and helping the sick and wounded, and women and children. Then one day she and three other aid workers were taken prisoner by a unit of rebel fighters, probably Taliban, and shut away in a compound. Special forces were called in to mastermind their release. She was allowed to speak to us by telephone a couple of times, to act as a translator and I told her not to worry, that we would get her out of there. She trusted me. The orders came to storm the compound and release the prisoners but the whole thing was a shambles. The rebels panicked. They shot all the prisoners. They were dead before we could reach them. All we were left with at the end was a stack of dead bodies, including Emma Trent, with all her kindness and hopes and dreams and her complete belief that I would get her out.’

I bite my lip, tears in my eyes. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper.

‘Not half as sorry as I was. I couldn’t stay there after that. I’d lost my nerve somehow. You have to have faith in yourself to succeed in the kind of crazy missions we’re sent on, and I didn’t have it after Emma died. I just saw hopelessness. The way people slaughter each other for no real reason. I couldn’t be part of it any more. So I left.’ He looks at me with a wry smile. ‘I thought that looking after spoiled rich girls would be as far away from Emma Trent as I could get.’