Page 72 of A Winter Wedding Adventure
It wasn’t in her nature, but she knew she had to let him dictate the pace, manage his own comfort zone, so she held on and bore it as the gust of his breath, the warmth of his body drew her own feelings to the surface. He touched her as though memorising her, lingering at her jaw, pausing every now and again to meet her wide-eyed gaze and kiss her as though she were the one needing reassurance.
She had to pull away to stoke the fire in the stove and add more wood and he used the time to fetch a condom from the bathroom, but instead of the interruption awkwardly halting their progress, she turned to find him peeling off his pullover and reaching for the buttons of his shirt – no hesitation.
The fact that she’d seen him almost naked before only made her less patient. Her fingers skimmed his skin before he’d even freed his arms from the sleeves. His chest heaved at the touch. Tucking herself close, she soaked up the warmth, the familiarity of his body and pressed a kiss to his sternum without thought, then another when he swayed on his feet and groped for her to steady himself.
‘Ahi,’ he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and spearing his fingers though her hair. ‘I think I need to sit down.’
He tugged her with him to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling her between his knees with a casual intimacy that rang alarm bells somewhere deep and distant in Kira’s mind. His easy touch wasn’t practised, informed by previous experiences with other women. It was genuine, a response to the fragile feelings he spilled everywhere.
She might regret it later, but that insight spurred her on, rather than giving her the wisdom to withdraw, keep things light. Peeling off her fleece, the thermal base layer followed quickly. When she would have rushed ahead to her bra – the same simple design as the one she’d been wearing when they’d arrived – his hands stopped her and a groan made its way up from deep in his chest.
‘I was not prepared that time in the van,’ he murmured. ‘I shouldn’t have peeked – I tried not to.’ Trailing a hand up her arm and along her shoulder blade, his eyes avidly following its progress, he licked his lips and continued. ‘But look at you.’ His voice was high and breathy. ‘So soft and strong and beautiful.’
The urge to laugh rose in her chest – or was it the urge to cry? Men had admired her breasts before, but usually with cruder language. Running her fingers through his hair, she brought him close, until his chin lined up with the seam of her bra.
God, he was beautiful, with his intent gaze and expressive mouth. After studying her for a dangerous moment where she began to wonder what he saw, he dropped his gaze and pressed kisses to her skin, along the edge of her bra.
The kisses were almost chaste, except for the occasional swipe with the tip of his tongue, but the pull of desire flared through her, hot and sharp. By the time he helped her shed her bra, her breath was ragged and she was desperate for more.
He didn’t make her wait, closing his mouth over her nipple with a grunt of relief that matched her sigh.
None of this felt like an awkward first time. She didn’t have to tell him what she liked, because he heard every involuntary sigh, every hitched inhale – every gasp. She told him everything with her breath, with noises from the back of her throat that might have embarrassed her with anyone else, but she could tell by his choked response that he liked them.
It was easy to let go and allow him the intimacy of hearing because she couldn’t hold in everything she was feeling at the glorious press of his body against her, then over her and, after a fumble with the condom, inside her.
He buried his face in her neck, his body strung taut, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him as though holding him together. Locked tight to each other, her hurtful past and lonely future seemed distant and abstract.
Only the moment existed: the tickle of his hair on her face; clumsy kisses to her throat; an urgent touch pulling her knee up and the unthinking perfection of her own body’s response. She could see from his rigid jaw and heavy eyelids that he was holding on by a thread.
As he pressed one last, desperate kiss to her lips, she encouraged them both over, soaking up every shudder and gasp.
He remained close, panting heavily, long enough for Kira to notice the gaping crack in her defences. He might have been sweeter and more earnest than anyone she’d ever been intimate with, but the next part was always painful and this time, it could be doubly awkward.
She only hoped he didn’t open his mouth. Whatever he said right now was sure to make everything worse – one way or another.
The temptation to hold on – to her, to the connection – was strong, but Mattia knew he had to let her withdraw. He’d agreed to casual, even though he wasn’t quite sure he’d achieved it in the end.
He flopped onto his back, lacking the energy to even pull the duvet over his naked body, while Kira sat up, her beautiful, bare back to him, and rummaged for her underwear.
‘Every time I hear the crackle of a fire, I’m going to think of you and get turned on.’
She stilled and he made out the soft sound of her blinking. ‘That’s what you have to say right now?’
‘I didn’t think anything else would be… appropriate.’
‘Well, I’m glad you have a different association with fire now.’ She shoved her thermal shirt over her head without bothering with her bra.
‘I think… I have a different association with sex.’
She was in the middle of tugging her underwear up her legs and she stumbled, scowling at him.
‘A positive association – a casual one,’ he insisted, rolling onto his side to give her a reassuring look. ‘That was… I’ve never been so good in bed before.’
She snorted a laugh. ‘You’ve never been so good in bed before?’
‘That’s what I meant. Because of you, I was—’ He gave up when she only laughed harder. He rolled onto his back in defeat. ‘Will you at least come back to bed and pretend I’m not the only one completely wrecked?’
Her laughter puttered out and he inwardly winced. ‘Mattia,’ she began, warning in her tone.
