Lynne Pemberton - Platinum Coast

It was almost 10.30 when Stephen suggested they have a nightcap in the small, deep-seated area located off the restaurant. Christina was a little tipsy as she sank into the soft Oriental cushions. Stephen joined her.

Brandy and chocolates arrived a few moments later.

‘You must try one of these chocolates. They’re out of this world.’

He pointed to the tiny dish of very thin, flat, dark chocolates. She nodded, and he was about to pick up the dish to hand her one when she leaned forward, her wide mouth slightly open. In a teasing voice she said, ‘You give me one, please.’

He picked up a sweet and very slowly placed it in her mouth. She licked his fingertips before he withdrew them, then her own lips.

She looked into Stephen’s pale-green gaze, and neither of them spoke for a couple of moments until Christina said, ‘Absolutely delicious. May I have another one?’

He grinned. ‘The same way?’

‘Yes, please.’

He placed the chocolate in her mouth, only this time traced her slightly parted lips with one finger whilst she chewed, slowly and deliberately.

His fingertips trailed down her neck and brushed lightly across her shoulders.

Christina shuddered.

‘Do you want to go now?’ Stephen’s voice was thick when he whispered in her ear.

‘I thought you’d never ask.’

They left the restaurant ten minutes later and drove to his flat in Kensington. Neither of them spoke much during the fifteen-minute drive. They were both absorbed in their own thoughts.

Stephen’s flat, though not as big as she had expected, was exquisitely furnished.

‘It looks like something out of a glossy magazine,’ she commented on entering the big open-plan living-room, dominated by two enormous, deep-cushioned beige sofas, covered in piles of assorted cushions.

A two-inch-thick glass-topped coffee table housed stacks of glossy magazines and books, plus framed photographs and a beautiful antique dish containing pot pourri.

‘Have a seat.’ Stephen indicated the sofa. ‘Drink?’

‘I think I’ve had enough to drink.’

‘A final nightcap,’ he said, opening a bottle of champagne.

‘Okay, you twisted my arm.’ Christina took off her jacket and draped it over a delicately carved occasional chair.

‘You have wonderful taste.’ She sank into the luxurious sofa, running her hand across the smooth surface of a silk cushion.

‘Not guilty,’ Stephen said, pouring two glasses of champagne. ‘My wife was born with several silver spoons in her mouth and grew up surrounded by beautiful things. She became an interior designer. All this …’ – he gestured casually – ‘is her work.’

He joined her on the sofa, handing her a glass as he sat down.

Christina took a sip of champagne.

‘Mmm, this is lovely.’

‘Krug is the best in my opinion.’

Stephen sipped his champagne, and stared at her over the rim of the glass.

‘Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes? Such an unusual colour.’

‘Millions of randy young men.’

Stephen looked pensive. ‘I thought as much,’ he said, and began to rummage amongst the books on the coffee table, mumbling, ‘I wonder where it is?’

‘What are you looking for?’ Christina enquired.

I’m looking for my How to Seduce a Beautiful Young Woman manual. I’m sure it’s here somewhere.’ He looked at her helplessly. ‘You see, I’m lost without it.’

Christina giggled, a deep, throaty sound.

‘How about I teach you, Mr Reece-Carlton, since you’re such a novice?’ She lowered her eyes shyly. ‘I’m not exactly the voice of experience, but I’m sure we could learn as we went along.’

He placed his glass of champagne on the coffee table and slid along the sofa to where she was sitting.

‘That sounds like a great idea to me. I’ll be your willing pupil.’

‘Lesson number one, you kiss me.’

Stephen leaned towards her and, cupping her chin in his hand, kissed the end of her nose.

She closed her eyes as the tip of his tongue very gently licked the outside of her lips, gently prising them open before his own lips covered hers and his tongue explored the inside of her mouth.

‘Lesson number two,’ Christina whispered, as he started to kiss her neck, ‘you take off my blouse.’

‘I’ll do whatever you say.’ He was clearly enjoying the game.

Stephen undid the tiny buttons down the front of Christina’s shirt. It fell open to reveal a half-cup white-lace bra, barely containing her round breasts.

He ran his fingers across her bare stomach, then circled first one nipple then the other with the palm of his hand. Her nipples rose in response, and he unhooked her bra. He caressed one breast whilst exposing the other, which he fell upon, sucking and pulling her hard nipple into the soft folds of his mouth.

‘Lesson number three,’ she gasped, breathless, as he ran his tongue across her stomach, ‘you take off my trousers.’

He kneeled at her feet and pulled both her boots off before unzipping her leather trousers and sliding them down her long, lightly freckled legs.

Christina squealed as she spotted her big toe poking through a pair of worn Mickey Mouse socks.

She looked at Stephen, who hadn’t noticed. He was too busy staring at her tiny white-lace bikini-briefs and the thick triangle of dark-brown pubic hair just visible beneath. He pulled off her old socks and flung them over the top of the sofa, then ran his tongue slowly up the inside of her thigh and across the front of her panties, biting gently into the open lace.

He lifted her legs onto the sofa and laid her carefully on her back, putting a cushion under her head.

He was kissing her passionately now, his mouth hard and urgent.

‘You’re beautiful, Christina,’ he told her between frenzied kisses.

She began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

‘Lesson number four …’

‘Lesson number four, Miss O’Neill, is I fuck you until you tell me to stop.’

‘You’re a very good pupil, Mr Reece-Carlton,’ she said in a breathy voice.

He looked deeply into her half-closed eyes.

‘I catch on quick, Miss O’Neill.’

The loud blare of a car horn woke Christina the following morning.

She sat up and stared at her surroundings, confused for a few moments, until she realized that she was in Stephen’s bed in his flat in London.

She recalled their lovemaking of the previous evening and, with a satisfied grin on her face, sank back down into the deep feather pillows.

A few moments later she looked up as Stephen appeared at the door, dressed in a long navy-blue bathrobe and carrying a tray of scrambled eggs and smoked salmon, plus a jug of what looked like fizzy orange juice and two glasses.

‘Good morning. Sleep well?’

‘Like a log, but I always wake early whatever time I go to bed. I’m afraid I’ve got an inbuilt alarm clock. I crept out of bed like a mouse this morning so as not to disturb you.’

‘What’s that?’ She pointed to the tray.

‘This is breakfast in bed, Stephen Reece-Carlton-style. So come along, young lady, sit up. We’re going to eat.’

He dropped his robe and she averted her eyes, suddenly embarrassed at the sight of Stephen’s lean, muscular body. He noticed her embarrassment and quickly slid into bed next to her, pulling the covers over his nakedness and placing the tray between them.

He handed her a fork and a napkin.

‘Dig in. It’s delicious.’

‘What’s the orange stuff in the eggs?’ she asked, pushing her fork into the centre of the plate.

‘It’s smoked salmon.’ He poured a glass of the fizzy orange mixture, saying, ‘One Bucks Fizz coming up.’

‘Bucks Fizz?’ She raised her straight eyebrows and took the glass.