Public Secrets

Wide-eyed, breath quickened, she stood absolutely still. Yes, she was trapped, Emma realized. But it didn’t seem to matter. Because she was feeling again, really feeling, in a way she’d long ago accepted she was incapable of.
The anger had drained out of him so that only his needs remained. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
It would be her choice. She could see that in his eyes. If she was trapped, it was her own longings, her own dreams, that held her prisoner. “I’m not.”

His hands had gentled on her shoulders. She didn’t protest when he slid them up to frame her face. Nor did she try to pull away when his lips touched hers again. Gently now, and soft. Her muscles went lax even as her pulse scrambled. Her choice, she thought again, and one she’d taken much too long to make. Then her mind filled up with him so completely there was room for nothing else.
He felt the change, the slow, hesitant response as her lips parted beneath his, as her body seemed to melt against him. He was trembling himself as he skimmed kisses over her face. Then her arms came around him and she found his lips with her own.
He lifted her up. It seemed the only way to love her this first time. He continued to kiss her, light and promising, deep and drugging, as he carried her into the bedroom.
The shades were drawn so that the sun beat against them in yellow waves. He wished it could have been candlelight.
Emma tried not to stiffen when he laid her on the bed. She knew it would go quickly now. She wanted him to go on kissing her, holding her. But she knew better. She thought she knew better.
He was beside her. He didn’t roll on top of her and tug at her clothes. His mouth sought hers again, to seduce as much as to reassure. Though her body was taut as wire, she seemed so fragile. Her skin, her mouth, the scent that he could wallow in when he buried his face in her hair. Her fingers brushed hesitantly over his bare chest, nearly driving him mad.
With a little moan of pleasure, he began to tease her tongue with his. Her taste ran through him like a warm river. He moved slowly, confusing her. Seducing her. She waited for him to take, but he continued to give.
His hands ran over her, making her shudder. But there was no fear in it. Here, at last, was generosity. Here, at last, was compassion. A pleasure so deep and dark coursed through her that she moved against him, hands clutching. Greed poured into her. She hadn’t known she could feel it, not for a man. Her hands were in his hair, dragging his mouth back to hers so that she could sink into those hot, wet kisses.
When he drew back, she moaned in protest and reached for him.
“I want to look at you,” he told her. “I’ve waited a long time to look at you here.”
She could only stare, bewildered and aching as he brushed his hands through her hair, watching the way it fell from his fingers onto the pillow. He continued to watch her face as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and the cloudy haze of desire. It made it easy to be tender.

When she lifted a hand to cover herself, he took it, pressed her fingers to his lips. With her hand still in his, he lowered his mouth to her breast. A groan escaped him. She was small and firm. Sweet. Unbearable.
Her skin fired with the slightest touch. He filled himself with her, the taste, the smooth silky texture. He could hear her breath, as fast and shallow as his own. Her body arched as he peeled the blouse from her.
His mouth was everywhere. She shivered from the heat as he ranged quick, openmouthed kisses over her face, her shoulders, then gently, torturously, down her rib cage. She jolted when he used his teeth, but there was no pain. Only delirium. He drew down her slacks, inch by maddening inch, following the path with his lips.
She wanted. She had never wanted before. Only dreamed. Her body was slick with sweat, writhing with need, but he continued to kiss and caress, making her claw at the sheets as he nibbled on the back of her knee.
The heat was unbearable, yet she wanted more. As his fingers skimmed up her thighs, her body convulsed. She couldn’t draw air. A roaring filled her head, bolted through her system, terrifying her. With a wild mixture of pleasure and fear, she reared up. The climax slammed into her, a velvet fist, which had her falling back, gasping.
“My God, you’re sweet.” He could barely breathe himself as he brought his mouth back to sear hers. Before her