Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

closer.
    Simon brought his other hand to her face, trying to convey his love and desire in every touch, to show her how precious she was to him. Finally, he could let himself out and let Elizabeth in. A world he’d only imagined, one he’d feared to even dream of, was born before his eyes. The impossible and unreachable had fallen into his hands. His heart still ached, but it was a sweet, beautiful pain.
    Somewhere in his life he’d lost his way and now he’d found it again in her kiss. A piece of a puzzle he didn’t know was missing slid into place. Supple lips pressed against his, caution forgotten in the sublime feel of her mouth upon his. Tentative at first, the kiss flourished with passion. He felt her nimble fingers brush against his throat and then move down his chest to unbutton his shirt. He wanted this so badly, wanted her more than he thought possible, but the last shreds of coherent thought clung to his brain. He had to be sure she wanted him. This had to be her decision. He pulled back breathlessly and looked at her. As much as it frightened him, she was the one in control.
    Elizabeth’s smile faltered. Afraid she might think he was pushing her away again, he gently ran his hands along her arms and took her hands in his. “Are you sure?” he asked.
    Her smile blossomed again; the love he’d been denying himself shone back. How had he possibly survived without it? Now that it was his, it was as much a part of him as breathing, and he would never let it go.
    She caressed his cheek, and then kissed him, more demanding than before. Her hands slid from his face and moved back to the buttons of his shirt. She worked her way down to his belt and rucked the fabric up from his waistband, then tugged on his undershirt. Reluctantly, he moved away from her kiss and pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside.
    Elizabeth’s eyes, dark with passion, swept over his body and he watched as she took him in. She hadn’t turned away, she didn’t leave him as he so deserved. Instead, she laid her palm flat against his skin, feeling the beating of his heart.
    A maelstrom of emotion swept over him. He felt himself falling again, and knew this time there was no turning away. She loved him. As unthinkable as it was, one look in her eyes told him a world of truths.
    Her hand slowly slid down his chest and stopped at his sharp intake of breath. With an intoxicating half-smile, she pulled away and began to undo the buttons of her dress.
    His hands caught hers, and she looked into his eyes. Silently, he asked permission, and she let her arms fall to her sides, offering herself.
    Without taking his eyes from hers, he unbuttoned her dress, his long fingers trembling. The thin, cotton dress fell open. The lace of her bra peaked out from behind the edges of the fabric and begged for his touch. He reined in the impulse, wanting to take this as slowly as possible, to savor each moment as it was given.
    He brushed the tips of his fingers along her collarbone, easing her dress from her shoulders. Leaning forward, he lifted her hair away from her neck and kissed the sensitive skin at the nape.
    She rolled her head to the side, allowing him to work his way along her neck and down again to her shoulder. With each kiss his need for her grew. His hands slid down her sides and came to rest on her waist, gently pulling her body to his, until his hardness pulsed against her belly.
    She sighed and he moved away slightly, shifting from one shoulder to the other. He nudged the dress further off her body. It slipped completely off and pooled at her feet.
    She ducked her head in embarrassment. Was it possible she didn’t know how attractive she was? Touching her cheek, he urged her to lift her eyes. If she doubted before, she never would again. As long as he had breath in his body, she would know how beautiful she was. “And even the angels were jealous.”
    Her skin blushed a bright red that rose from her cheeks and traveled deliciously down her chest. His eyes followed the path in a loving touch.
    Emboldened, she stepped forward and ran her hands down over his quivering stomach muscles, finally working at the clasp of his belt. Simon grasped her waist, his hands nearly large enough to encircle her, and trailed his fingers up her sides, stopping just shy of the swell of her breasts. His thumbs slipped over the lace and he felt her nipples tighten in response. Each time she inhaled, her breasts brushed harder against his fingers. A