Zara Stoneley - Summer of Surrender

He swept her hair up in one hand, twisted it so that her neck was exposed and then he kissed her. He smelled of soap, of herbal shampoo, clean and inviting, and of salt, of need and lust. Slowly he ran his tongue down her spine, her shoulder blades tightened and a shiver ran all the way from top to bottom. ‘You can say stop, but I want to show you what you’ve never let yourself have, what you’ve never let someone give you.’

‘I want—’

‘Shh. Don’t move and don’t speak unless you want me to stop.’ He let her hair fall, tucked it over her shoulder so that it left her back uncovered, exposed. She heard him strip his top off, and she wanted to look at him, but the second she tilted her head he took hold of her hair. ‘I said don’t move, unless you want me to stop. Do you want me to stop?’

‘No, no don’t stop.’ His firm thumbs stroked down either side of her spine, a slow, steady pressure that made her gasp and her buttocks clench, he was already finding the spots that made her want him, need him. This time he circled his thumb as he went, his splayed fingers curling around her rib cage. As he got lower, ever lower towards the base of her spine she tightened her thighs.

‘Don’t.’ He stopped, waiting until she’d relaxed. ‘Accept it, let your body ask for it.’ He bent down, slowly licked her linked fingers, then took each thumb in turn into his mouth, teasing with his teeth, sucking, taking each finger in turn and letting her rock her hips. She shifted back towards him.

She stroked her fingers inside a pussy that was already tensing.

‘Naughty girl. Rest your forehead on the wall and shift your feet back a bit.’ Her weight was forward now, her thighs tight and trembling as he ran first his finger, and then his tongue, up each toned inner thigh. And then he tasted her thighs properly, circled the softness of her skin, just inside her shorts, with his tongue, kissing, sucking, nibbling as his thumbs traced ever firmer circles over her buttocks, the very base of her spine and she knew that she was going to come. She could smell her own scent, feel the tremble that was under his hands, spreading upwards, mingling with the anticipation and want. ‘Let go.’ He rested his hand between her legs, felt the heat and dampness through her shorts, pressed against her, let her rock against him.

‘Oh, shit.’ Her thighs tightened around his hand and she was coming.

Kezia gasped as her body hit the high it had been aiming for. Her pussy tightened greedily around her fingers. Gradually the tremors died down, her body fizzled back down from its peak, leaving just a gentle buzz of warmth. Then she rolled over on to her side and crashed.

‘You’re going?’

‘No, what gave you that idea?’ She filled the kettle and put it down with a heavy clatter, hoping that it hid the sound of her heart hammering away sixty to the dozen. Feeling light-headed could be put down to the orgasm he’d inadvertently given her last night. Feeling hot and bothered was definitely down to him just being there. He was dressed in jeans that hugged his hips like they were never going to let go, and an open-necked shirt with rolled-up sleeves that declared ‘man alert.’

‘I just thought…’

‘Ah, it can be a dangerous thing, thinking.’

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