‘Can I get you a coffee?’ Holly asked as she pushed open the door to her flat.
‘No, thank you,’ Charlie replied. ‘Christ, Holly, I don’t want anything else except you.’
Holly laughed. ‘There I was thinking you had a problem with expressing yourself.’
‘Not so far as you’re concerned,’ Charlie said huskily. He kissed her forehead, then her nose and then found her lips again. ‘And I want you to know that I am very, very happy right now.’
‘I can see that, and feel it,’ Holly teased, to disguise how touched she was that he was being so open with her. This naturally guarded, instinctively rather reticent man was opening himself up to her, letting his defences down, trusting her. And she felt herself melting as she realised what a big step they were about to take. Pushing up against him so that his back was pressed against the wall of her stone tiled hallway, she groaned as she felt his arousal, and wanted there to be no more layers between them.
‘Come upstairs,’ Holly murmured between kisses. ‘And yes, I am sure.’
‘I’m glad,’ Charlie replied. ‘And for the record, I’m sure too.’
‘Good,’ Holly teased. ‘I wouldn’t want to be accused of doing anything without your consent.’
‘Consent given,’ Charlie murmured.
Breaking apart to negotiate the rather steep stairs that led upstairs, Holly felt as if every nerve ending was tingling with anticipation.
The moonlight shone through Holly’s bedroom window, casting her white bed linen in a silvered, ethereal glow. She wandered over to the window and threw it open, letting in the warm night air. She raised a hand to draw the curtains but then thought better of it; she wasn’t overlooked, and the light was so beautiful. Arthur, coat silvery rust in the moonlight, prowled the fence that separated Holly’s back yard from next door.
Charlie was still standing in the doorway, and as she glanced back behind her, Holly caught a glimpse of that adorably shy boy he’d once been. There was something about the tilt of his head as he regarded her, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was standing there, in her bedroom, that took her back again to the night they’d met. In a way, she was comforted, but in another moment, as he moved towards her, the boy had gone, to be replaced by a man with hunger in his eyes, a bucket more self-assurance and the warmest hands.
‘Come here,’ she whispered as she wandered over to her bed. Reaching out a hand, she pulled him down to the mattress, on top of her, his weight both comforting and energising.
‘If you make any jokes about honourable members, I’m leaving,’ Charlie murmured between kisses.
Holly giggled. ‘Don’t worry, I promise to behave.’
Charlie raised an eyebrow. ‘I didn’t say I wanted you to do that.’
And so, after weeks of dancing around each other, and more false starts than were sustained at the annual Mendip cheese rolling contest, they began to explore each other. As Holly slithered out of her dress and pulled Charlie’s T-shirt over his head to reveal his finely toned chest, she felt the current spark between them as their bare skin touched. She was down to her knickers in a few moments more. She wanted to touch and explore every inch of him, and take her time in doing it, despite the haste with which she’d discarded her clothes.
Charlie gently pushed her back onto the soft, downy pillows and ran his hands down her body from her neck, over the curve of her waist, to her thighs. Leaning over her, he planted feather-light kisses from her jaw, down her neck and over her breasts, breathing warmly over a tautening nipple before taking it gently into his mouth. Holly arched her back in the sheer pleasure of it. Mouth occupied, his hands were still exploring, running over her body and up the inside of her thighs to the junction where her knickers were the last barrier to her warm nakedness.
Holly sighed in ecstasy, but, not to be outdone, she pulled Charlie down next to her, kissing his neck and working her own way down his body, kissing and caressing the tantalising line of hair that ran down from his navel and disappeared into the waistband of his tight jersey boxer shorts. Crooking a finger under the elastic, she gave a swift tug and Charlie’s full, erect and ready form was on display in all its glory. She glanced upwards and felt a sharp pinprick of desire hot and insistent in her core as, legs spread and a look of absolute pleasure and abandonment on his face, Charlie groaned as one of her warm hands wrapped around his generous length.
‘You are every bit as glorious as I thought you’d be,’ she murmured before wrapping her lips around the head of his cock. Lapping gently, she felt her own arousal increase to almost unbearable proportions as Charlie raised his hips. He tasted divine.
‘Come back up here,’ Charlie murmured. His voice was husky. ‘I want to feel all of you.’
Obligingly, Holly returned to the top of the bed and gasped as Charlie pulled her close, wrapping himself around her. The weight of his body was utterly divine. There was little between them now, and little else to say. As Charlie’s hand slid between her parted thighs and began to caress her, sliding warm fingers inside her while finding the absolute centre of her pleasure with his thumb, Holly felt the long, rolling tingle becoming deeper, more insistent, until she was riding a long wave of climax that throbbed and beat insistently within her and made stars explode behind her eyes.
It was an easy matter to keep that feeling going as, after a moment’s break to slip on a condom, Charlie bridged the last, most significant gap. His length inside her, his long, almost languid thrusts, gave way to a more intense and frenetic rhythm as he reached towards his own beating climax. As he came, he raised his head and looked her deeply in the eyes. ‘I think I love you, Holly Renton,’ he said in his most unguarded, most vulnerable moment.
‘I think I love you too, Charlie Thorpe,’ Holly replied. ‘Lovely, lovely Charlie.’
They collapsed beside each other in the moonlit darkness of Holly’s bedroom. Arthur, who’d waited decorously on the windowsill, slunk in through the window and settled himself at the foot of the bed with a rumbling purr.
‘What a day,’ Charlie murmured, pulling Holly close so that her head was resting on his chest. Idly, she played with the curls she found there as he caressed the back of her neck.
‘Well, they say that Willowfest causes all kinds of energies to be heightened,’ Holly said. ‘And it’s certainly worked wonders for you.’ She propped herself up on one elbow to get another look at him. Post-climax, Charlie was a sight to behold; hair ruffled, five-o’clock shadow on his face and lazy, sleepy, liquid brown eyes, looking at her as though she was the only person in the world. She suddenly felt a great rush of love for him. She couldn’t imagine, now they’d found each other, ever being without him.
She shook her head in bewilderment. No one had ever affected her like this. She felt punch-drunk with love, fuzzy with contentment. And she was pretty sure it wasn’t just the utterly mind-blowing sex that was making her feel that way.
‘I overheard Alan Somerville talking to some groupies about the benefits of tantric sex earlier this afternoon,’ Charlie said, a sudden twinkle in his sleepy dark eyes. ‘But I doubt even he’s had it as good as that just was. Did you slip something in my glass of mead?’