Summer of Surrender. Zara Stoneley

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Summer of Surrender - Zara  Stoneley


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      She looked directly at him, her eyes slightly wider and gave a short, incredulous snort. ‘You don’t need to teach people about sex, you just do it, right? Sex is just sex.’

      ‘Not necessarily.’ He tucked his hands into his pockets and leaned back against the wall. ‘People don’t always know what good sex is, or how to ask someone to please them.’

      She’d coloured up a bit, but wasn’t backing down. ‘Bollocks. I mean I wouldn’t go to a sex therapist. I mean if you like someone enough to sleep with them, then it’s just going to happen isn’t it.’

      ‘Is it? Is sex always the same for you, whoever you do it with?’

      Her colour shifted another notch up the scale towards red hot. ‘Yes, well no. Well, it just works better sometimes than other times.’ She shrugged. ‘Depends how much you fancy someone I suppose.’

      ‘Have you never been left high and dry, wanting more?’

      ‘I’m fine with a cuddle, I don’t have to, you know…’

      ‘Come?’ God, how he would just love to take her here and now, to show her what passion was really about. He pushed off from the wall and took a step towards her, and she flinched, but didn’t move away.

      ‘I could make you come.’

      ‘I can make myself come thanks, no big deal there.’

      ‘I can make you come,’ He took another step closer. Stroked along her lip with one finger, ‘without touching you where you want me to most.’

      ‘Slightly bigger deal, but if I get in the zone, think the right things…..’ Her voice tailed off as eased his thumb between her teeth.

      He shouldn’t, he should keep his distance. But she was turning him on something rotten. She was all feisty and sassy, but there was also a streak of the submissive about her. A streak he didn’t want to ignore. He’d forgotten what ‘pure’ meant after he’d walked out on his home, his job, his wife. And every woman since had been just there for the sex. And every woman in the future would be. And he wasn’t going to start anything with Kezia, he just wanted to show her. No, he just wanted her. To see her surrender, for him. To him.

      ‘All you have to do, is say please.’ James paused. There was hesitation in her eyes, but she’d stilled, gone quiet. Was waiting. And it was making his balls tingle in a way he’d almost forgotten existed.

      He traced along the top edge of her teeth with his salty thumb and Kezia wanted to say please. Well, more like shout it out. Not to any arty-farty sex therapist crap, but to a good, hard shag. His hard-on was straining against his jeans and she could smell him; pure sex. Yes, he scared her, he was so friggin’ intense, but he turned her on as well. Like she’d been turned on when she was a teenager and thought her Mum was just about to walk in on her and a guy and find out they weren’t just listening to music. Like she was turned on when she imagined being pinned down, helpless, as the man she’d always loved forced her to submit to his every desire. Or something like that. Shit, books and films had a lot to answer for. She touched his finger with the tip of her tongue. He was staring straight into her eyes, his own so dark she couldn’t tell where his pupils ended and the colour began.

      ‘Do you want me?’ He eased his thumb from her mouth, squeezed her lower lip between thumb and finger, gently tugging and by the way it was affecting her swollen breasts he could well have been tugging her nipples. He let his hand drift down to rest lightly on her chin.

      ‘I don’t know you.’ Her throat had tightened with anticipation for what would come next, her shoulders tense.

      ‘But you want me, in the same way I want you.’

      He slid his hand under her hair, ran one finger from the base of her neck up to where it met her skull, pressing gently into the soft indent and she couldn’t stop the shudder that travelled down her spine pooling at the base. That was good. His thumb circled, small persistent needy circles that sent a pulse between her legs. She gasped. Now could be the time to say please, or thank you. Oh that was very good, he seemed to have found the spot that channelled right down to orgasm central and if he stopped now she might have to scream.

      ‘Have you ever had sex with a stranger?’ And that husky voice was the icing on the cake, or should that be the cherry?

      He’d said something. What was it? Oh, yeah. Sex, stranger. ‘I make love, not have sex.’ She could barely hear her own whisper, she swayed slightly into the pressure of his hand. ‘And nobody I’d call strange.’ Slightly wacky, yes, but not strange. She wanted to reach out and hold him, but she just knew it would break the spell. He’d stop. She didn’t want him to stop.

      ‘Just having sex can be good.’

      She shivered under his touch as his thumb ran along the side of her neck, resting over her pulse point. His large, warm hand cradled her head, her jaw in the palm of his hand. If this was sex then fine, bring it on.

      ‘But it’s not—’

      ‘You’ve made love to people you’re not in love with.’

      It didn’t seem to be a question, and right now her vocal chords didn’t want to play anyway.

      ‘That’s comfort, not a real connection, and what happens when you can’t be bothered to be a comfort blanket any longer?’ His fingers were still doing their thing and her brain seemed to be slowly melting, which gave him an unfair advantage.

      ‘But I—’

      ‘Close your eyes.’ It must have been surprise, no way would she have just shut them otherwise. His fingers slowly moved down to her throat, with the lightest of touch. ‘Clasp your hands behind your back.’ Hell, she did that too. But if she didn’t she couldn’t find out what came next, and all of a sudden she wanted to know.

      His breath was warm against her skin, he must be close, so close. She had to touch him, she mustn’t touch him. The nip of his teeth on her neck made her jump, then whimper. His finger was tracing down her chest, down towards her breasts and her nipples started to prickle. She just had to reach out, hold him, or something.

      ‘Don’t move.’ Shit, all she’d done was think about it, unclasped her hands just a touch, but that liquid chocolate voice in her ear made her freeze and her stomach tighten.

      His finger traced a path around her breast, slowly, tantalisingly moving in with each circle, then outwards, never touching the hard nub. She needed him to touch her nipples, or suck them, or anything… Any second now she really was going to scream. He moved on to the other breast and she could hear her breath coming in short gasps, feel her heart pounding so heavily her whole body seemed to be shaking with it. She bit her lip. She wasn’t going to beg.

      His warm hands moved down, circling her waist, firm fingers pressing down over her stomach, lower, lower. He was holding her hips now, and those probing thumbs were circling her stomach just above her mound. Firm, tantalising. She moaned as she felt her juices pool in her knickers whimpering as she clenched her thighs together, feeling the slow pulsing in her pussy build. Oh, God she was going to come. She couldn’t stop now, she couldn’t. Her knees were trembling, she tightened her stomach muscles, felt the delicious throb intensify.

      And he stopped. Let go. Cold air replaced where his hands had been.

      ‘Wha–?’ For a split second she was dazed, still numbed by the soft, sensual throbbing that had been bubbling its way through her body. She stared at him, confused, and he stared straight back, from a safe distance.

      ‘Demonstration over.’

      ‘Demonstration?’ The calm words hit her hard, her muscles contracting for a far different reason from a few minutes ago. The bastard. He’d shoved his hands back in his pockets, partly to hide his hard-on, and his face was devoid of expression. So, he hadn’t been pulled to her like she had to him, this wasn’t about the way her body reacted when he came within ten yards of her. This was business, pure and simple, showing her what a fucking


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