Guy took her hands in his, drawing her in to him, cupping her face, tilting it up. For a moment his face hovered over hers, his dark eyes holding her gaze, until Petra felt she was losing herself in those dark pools. As his mouth took hers and his hold tightened on her slight frame, his hands moved down her back in long, seductive strokes. Without taking his mouth from hers, he lifted her against him and with a deft twist of his body sat down on a leather chesterfield holding her across his body, his hands now roaming freely, cupping her breasts, a finger teasing the nipples beneath the thin silk of her blouse so that they rose hard against the silk.

Petra’s fingers caressed his face, twisted in his hair as she reached against him, no longer capable of coherent thought, lost in the urgent heat of these moments when her senses were flooded with the scent of his skin, the pressure of his hands, the warmth of his breath. She felt his fingers on the tiny pearl buttons of her silk shirt and then the cool caress of the air on her bared skin. She caught her breath as his fingers moved over the rounded flesh, flicked at the erect nipples. His hand moved to her back, under the loosened shirt, and played an intimate tune along her spine, before flattening to slide up to her neck in a warm firm clasp, all the while his mouth held hers, his tongue engaged with hers in a dance of delight, in a darting exploration of the contours and recesses of her mouth until she could no longer separate herself from the tantalizing invader.

At last he lifted his head and smiled down at her, a finger stroking her swollen kiss-reddened lips, lightly caressing her flushed cheeks. “Any clarification?”

Petra’s gaze was still unfocused as she murmured, “Not really. A little more might help.”