Page 46 of The Suitcase Swap

He brushed his knuckles over her breasts, wondering the whole time what her nipples might look like. Small? Large? A blushing pink, rich red or deep brown? Somewhere in between? He was hard, so hard, and she was rubbing over him, there but not quite right. He needed it a little harder, needed her a little more centred.

He palmed her breasts, enjoying the weight of them, the feel through the layers of cloth. Then he slid his hands further down, his knuckles tracing her belly, while his fingers dipped below her waistband.

Her head dropped back, a breathy moan escaping her lips. She looked so beautiful like this – her cheeks flushed pink, her lips slightly parted. Her eyes were screwed shut in fierce concentration. Seeing her like this . . . Mike wanted nothing more than to see her release. To see her in that moment of bliss when nothing on the earth or in the heavens mattered beyond the pleasure sizzling through your veins.

‘Sophie,’ he breathed into her neck, nibbling along the skin. He slid a hand around, stroking a path from her back to her thigh. He wanted to touch her like this so much, so often, that the sensations, the muscle memory, burned into his brain. He wanted the feel of her tattooed along his skin, etched into his bones.

‘Oh, god, Sophie.’ His mouth was close to her ear now, the puff of his breath making her shiver. ‘Let me make you feel good. Please. Let me do this.’

She made a soft sound, rolling her hips again and again.

He undid the button of her trousers and pulled down the zip. ‘Is this okay? Tell me if you want me to stop, if you don’t want it.’

She tugged on the hair on the nape of his neck, his name a whisper on her lips.

He could feel his pulse beating through his own body, every particle of him focused on her. He leaned back, his chest heaving, watching his own fingers, moving slowly in case she changed her mind. In case she’d decided this was far enough.

He caught a glimpse of purple, silky material and his mouth went dry. His voice, when he could finally get it out, was raspy and deep. His knuckles hovered over the purple cloth. ‘I need to hear you say it, Sophie. Can I touch you?’

She hovered there, eyes hazy. Desire limned every curve of her body, every swoop and angle of her face, but she hesitated all the same.

Mike didn’t move, didn’t want to convince her with his body, which meant he had to find words, and he was historically bad at those. ‘Whatever you want, Sophie.’

She caught her lower lip in her teeth, not quite looking at him.

He tipped her chin up with a gentle nudge of his fingers. ‘I mean it. Whatever you want.’

Her gaze was steady as she examined him carefully. ‘If I say we’re done?’

‘Then we’re done.’ He didn’t even have to think about his answer. He was a little worried that she thought he mighthaveanother answer.

Her next question was more hesitant, unsure. Mike marvelled at it – so unlike the side she usually showed the world, brave and self-assured. ‘If I only want to be held?’

‘Then I’m a lucky man.’ Mike couldn’t help it then and rubbed a hand down her back, reassuring.

Sophie snorted a laugh, but he didn’t think it was at him, more at some other situation or man in the past. ‘And what do you want?’

‘Oh,’ he said with an offhand shrug. ‘Indecent things. My mind is an absolute cesspit of sordid imaginings right now, that’s just how it is.’ He stroked her back again, just because he could.

She brushed back his hair with one hand, her fingers tracing his ear, his neck, causing him to shiver. ‘You’re a confusing man, Mike Tremblay.’

‘I know.’ That was the worst of it, really. Hedid.

Her expression was serious, but she was definitely laughing at him now somewhere inside herself, though not in a mean way. ‘I’m going to kiss you anyway.’

‘Oh, thank god.’

She leaned in but he met her halfway, folding her deeper into his arms, letting her guide the kiss. Things had cooled between them as they’d talked, but it was like a frost instantly melted by the touch of the sun, soon gone. Sophie took one of his hands, placing it back where it had been, and he could feel her smile as they kissed.

He traced her through the fabric, whisper-soft, not knowing what kind of contact she needed. He couldn’t wait to find out. Mike had always been a good student, and he wanted nothing more than to learn what made this woman light up. Sophie shuddered, gasping and leaning in to his touch.

Mike swallowed, his throat feeling thick, his chest heavy. Any part of him not touching her felt too far away, the thin layers of cloth between them taking on the dimensions of chainmail.

A breathy moan escaped her lips as her head dropped forward, her hair hiding her face. Mike let her hide for now, concentrating on how she was moving; applying more pressure, moving in a way to match the thrust of her hips. Herealized then that he was talking to her, all of his restraint being used up in order to keep himself in check, to stay where she needed him. Words normally kept behind clenched teeth were bubbling up, flowing towards her like it was the most natural thing in the world. An ancient spring, cutting through well-worn rock pathways as it sought the ocean.

Except his spring was apparentlyfilthy, but Sophie didn’t seem to mind, shivering under his hands as he spoke. ‘So beautiful, so, so, oh god, yes – again. Fuck, Sophie, you’re perfect. Let me look at you. I love watching you move. I love feeling you get wet. Is that for me, Sophie? All for me?’ It was a litany of praise and suggestion and he couldn’t stem it if he tried.

Sophie moaned and rocked harder, the material under his fingers soaked through. He sucked gently on the skin of her neck and nipped her ear. She kept her eyes closed, off in her own little world of pleasure.

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