Trust Me

when she went to work on the buttons of his shirt.
    He ripped off his glasses and tossed them down on a nearby table.
    Desdemona’s fingertips brushed unsteadily across his chest and he realized that she was trembling. He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth.
    “It’s all right,” he whispered. “Don’t be frightened. I would never hurt you.”
    She smiled tremulously. “I know. I trust you.”
    He stared at her for a few seconds, spellbound. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his throat.
    “This is going to sound stupid,” he said hoarsely, “but I have to get something from the car.”
    She buried her face against his chest. “If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, you won’t have to go downstairs. Kirsten gave me several packages. Assorted colors. They’re in a box under the bed.”
    Stark groaned, torn between relief and wry amusement. “I take back everything I said about the inadvisability of making loans to relatives.”
    He scooped Desdemona up in his arms. Her soft gasp of excitement heated the blood in his veins.
    “Am I as light as thistledown?” she asked demurely. “I’ve always wondered.”
    He considered the question carefully. “No. But you don’t weigh nearly as much as a mainframe computer.”
    Her effervescent laughter cascaded over him like a crystal waterfall.
    He carried her across the room to where the shoji screens concealed her bed. Stepping between the screens, he set Desdemona down on the white, down-filled comforter. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face in the shadows.
    He braced one knee on the bed and reached out to free her hair from the gold clips that secured it. The vibrant red curls tumbled across the fluffy pillows in a glorious froth. He wound his hands deep in the soft stuff and leaned down to inhale the fragrance of it.
    Desdemona reached inside his open shirt and splayed her fingers across his chest. “I love the feel of you.” She stroked upward to his shoulders. “So strong and beautiful.”
    Stark didn’t think he could take much more. He had always considered himself a man of self-control, an expert in the art of deferred gratification, but tonight he was caught up in the flow of uncontrollable forces.
    He fell on top of Desdemona.
    She reached for him with an eagerness that dazed him. He covered one of her breasts with his hand and felt the taut nipple push against his palm. Hungrily he took the fruit into his mouth.
    Desdemona made a soft, half-strangled sound.
    “Did I hurt you?”
    “No, no.” She gripped the back of his head and held him to her breast.
    He filled his mouth with her once more and slid his hand across her soft belly. She arched her hips, straining against his fingers. He stroked her thigh. She bent her leg in response. The gesture conveyed passionate urgency. The silky feel of her stocking was incredibly erotic.
    Stark touched the scrap of lace between her legs. It was already damp. The scent of her arousal was the most alluring perfume he had ever known. Satisfaction coursed through him as he realized that Desdemona was as wild for him as he was for her.
    “Stark.” Desdemona’s nails dug into his back beneath his shirt.
    He eased one finger past the narrow crotch of the panties.
    Desdemona shuddered.
    Stark raised his head and looked at her. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. She was lost in the moment. Her eyes were tightly closed. The mere sight of the elegant, utterly abandoned lines of her stocking-clad legs was almost enough to trigger his climax.
    He fought for the last remnants of his control. He was sweating. He freed one hand to grope beneath the bed. He found the carton of Exotica Erotica products. His hand closed over a box.
    He lifted the package and realized that it was sealed in plastic wrap. There was just enough light filtering through the windows to read the words Big Boy Vibrator.
    “What is it?” Desdemona asked quickly.
    “Wrong box.” He reached under the bed again, and this time he found what he wanted.
    His hands were shaking, but he managed to get his zipper down, managed to open a small foil packet, managed to do what needed to be done.
    He did not manage to remove his pants or get his shoes off, however. He gave up on the attempt and fumbled briefly with Desdemona’s lace panties.
    “Please.” Desdemona clutched at him. “I can’t wait. I’ve never felt anything like this in my life. Please, Stark. Hurry.”
    Stark abandoned the