The Perfect Match?. PENNY JORDAN
into her flesh as he continued to hold her beneath his mouth whilst she writhed and arched frantically beneath him, not sure if she wanted to pull away and bring her sweet torture to an end or arch up greedily against him and demand even more of the shocking pleasure he was giving her.
Her body, though, was perfectly sure of what it wanted, needed, craved, and the high female sound of arousal that sobbed from her throat made sure that Guy knew, as well.
‘No. No more, please don’t,’ Chrissie panted deliriously as the hot quivers of pleasure darted through her body, convulsing her womb with tiny warning spasms of what lay ahead of her, making her shiver in a mixture of awe that she could feel such intense pleasure and a self-protective fear of the inevitable loss of self-control, of self that would come with it.
It was Guy who now controlled her body and her reactions and not her.
‘Stop,’ she begged him, adding unintentionally, ‘I’m afraid...’
‘Of what?’ Guy asked her rawly. ‘This?’ He watched her face as she trembled against his touch.
‘It’s all so overpowering, so...so unfamiliar to me,’ Chrissie admitted unwillingly. ‘I don’t...I haven’t...’
‘You’ve given yourself physically before,’ Guy guessed for her, ‘but not like this, not totally, completely, physically, emotionally and mentally, the way it is now between us. I feel just as afraid,’ he told her simply, ‘afraid of not matching up to your expectations, of disappointing you, of spoiling what we have been given.’
‘You couldn’t do that,’ Chrissie told him softly, and as she said it she knew it was true and she knew something else, as well. ‘I want you, Guy,’ she told him emotionally, reaching out towards him, her body trembling as she met the burning look of physical desire in his eyes.
Unable to stop herself, she reached out and touched the tip of his erect manhood with her fingertips and then ran them slowly and a little hesitantly along the shaft.
Now it was his turn to tremble and groan, the sound emerging from deep within his chest as he closed his eyes and told her thickly, ‘God, that feels so good, too good.’ He suddenly tensed and groaned again, then bent his head and cupped her breast with his hand, drawing her nipple into his mouth and sucking fiercely on it, not just to give her pleasure, Chrissie recognised with a sharp kick of female power, but also because it was what he wanted. He needed to feel the soft warmth of her breast within his mouth, to draw on it and from it in just the same way that she now ached to feel him within her.
‘Now, now, please, Guy, now,’ she pleaded, whispering the impassioned words between the frantic kisses, her earlier fear of losing control completely forgotten, overwhelmed by a far more urgent and important need—the need to complete the cycle they had both set in motion, to be fulfilled, to be—
Chrissie gave a sharp, piercing cry of relief as she felt Guy’s first deep thrust within her body.
‘You feel wonderful,’ she heard Guy telling her thickly. ‘We fit together perfectly, perfectly.’
Chrissie couldn’t make any verbal response but she knew there was no need, the way her body was already responding to the rhythmic movement of his told him everything he needed to know.
She had never imagined that physical intimacy could be like this; that two bodies could be so well matched, fit together so perfectly that they together made one perfect whole; so completely in harmony with one another that Chrissie actually felt as though she could physically feel the ripples of pleasure that ran through Guy’s body with each movement he made within her own, and she sensed that he, too, could feel hers, that he knew exactly the second when she needed the more urgent movement of his body within hers, the heartbeat of time precisely even before she cried out to him that she ached for him, craved him, had to have him, deep, deep within the most secret part of her body.
And she could feel through the strong contractions of her own release the thick pulse of his.
‘Oh, Guy,’ Chrissie wept emotionally as he held her in his arms.
‘I know. I know,’ he soothed her tenderly, gently brushing the tears from her face as he bent his head to kiss her mouth lingeringly. He drew her deep into the protective warmth of his own body, stroking her skin as though he couldn’t bear the thought of letting her go.
‘You feel so good, so right,’ he told her emotively. ‘Oh God, you feel so good.’
‘I still can’t quite believe what’s happened,’ Chrissie confessed, suddenly a little shy. ‘It’s not...I don’t...’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ Guy interrupted her gruffly, taking hold of her hand and lifting it to his lips whilst he placed a kiss in her palm and then closed her fingers over it. ‘And besides, what you and I have goes way, way beyond anything like any coy, false need to play games with one another. What we have...what we can have...’ He broke off and shook his head. As she looked at him, Chrissie saw that his own eyes were filled with moisture.
‘Oh, Guy,’ she protested shakily. It was her turn now to comfort him, so she kissed his mouth with all the love she felt for him.
‘We need to make time to talk to one another properly,’ Guy told her unsteadily when she had released his mouth. ‘No, not here,’ he told her, reading her mind. ‘If I stay here with you...’ He groaned and closed his eyes. ‘Have dinner with me tonight. My sister and her husband own a small restaurant. We could meet there. I daren’t offer to pick you up,’ he told her softly, ‘because if I do...’ He looked expressively at her still-naked body, warm and relaxed from his lovemaking, satiated... now...
But Guy was right. They did need to talk. There was so much she wanted to know about him, so much she wanted to discover.
‘How ironic that I should meet you here of all places, in the house that belonged to Charlie Platt,’ Guy murmured to her. When he saw Chrissie start to frown, he explained, ‘We never got on.’
‘You didn’t like him,’ Chrissie supplied, turning away slightly so that he couldn’t see her face.
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