The shakespeare sisters.., p.20
The Shakespeare Sisters--The Complete Box Set, page 20
‘That was different. That was . . . oh . . .’
He silenced her with a sweep of his lips. Then, capturing her nipple between them, he pulled her in, teasing her softly with his tongue. He felt her harden still more, the blood rushing to the peak, making her sensitive and achy. Then he sucked at her, his mouth closing around her flesh, the delighted gasp escaping her lips sounding like music to his ears.
His next few minutes were spent worshipping at her breasts, kissing first one then the other until she was a hot mess of sighs. The throbbing between his legs increased, becoming almost painful, and he was certain that if he carried on for much longer he was likely to explode.
‘Cesca?’ It was his turn to whisper against her skin. He licked her then blew softly, the cold air making her skin tighter still.
‘Mmm?’
‘Can we go up to my room?’
‘Mmm.’
It wasn’t a no, and that was all he needed to hear.
Twenty steps. Nineteen. Only eighteen steps until they got there. Cesca seemed as impatient as him, half-running up the stairs as his fingers rested on the swell of her behind. When they reached his room he felt the slightest hesitation. Not because he didn’t want her in there, but because he wanted her in there too much. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to.
Pushing the door open, he gestured for her to go in. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
She looked at him, amused. ‘No thank you.’
‘Then take a seat.’
That made her burst out laughing. ‘You’re making this sound like a job interview.’
He couldn’t help but join in, seeing the truth of her words. ‘I’m sorry, it just feels a bit weird.’
‘Bringing me to your room?’
‘No, not at all. Bringing a girl to my room. It’s like being a teenager all over again. Except I never brought a girl to my room when I was a teenager.’
Cesca was disbelieving. ‘Never?’
‘Not this room.’ He shook his head, looking around. Of course the room was different to when he was a kid. Cooler, more sophisticated. But the bare bones were still the same – the walls, the shape, the layout of the furniture. There was something else, too. Something he wasn’t quite able to put into words yet. The feeling that for the first time in six years the real him was coming out. Not the Hollywood Sam who attracted women like a jar of honey attracted flies, but the kid who was still deep inside him. The one he’d tried to shield for too long.
If he thought about it too much it would mess his mind. He shook his head to get rid of the voice inside. He didn’t want to think about anything else but her.
Cesca sat down on his bed, the covers dipping beneath her. ‘In that case I’m honoured.’ Her eyes met his. ‘And relieved.’
‘Why relieved?’ There was too much distance between them. He walked over to the bed, sitting down next to her. Without thinking he took her hand between his, running the pad of his thumb across her palm. That simple connection soothed him, locked away the anxiety that only a few minutes apart had created. When their bodies connected, it seemed as though their minds did, too.
‘I had images of you being rampant in here,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t think I could live up to that.’
‘Oh, I was rampant. It was just a party for one, that’s all.’ He lay back on the bed, pulling her with him so she was curled up at his side, her head resting on his chest.
‘You don’t strike me as the sort to want for female company.’
He swallowed hard. ‘I don’t want to talk about female company.’
‘No?’ She propped herself up on her elbow, surveying him carefully. ‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m with you. And you’re the only female I’m interested in.’
He could sense the insecurity wafting from her in waves. Didn’t she know how much he wanted her? It was a shock to him that she couldn’t see how much he liked her, admired her, wanted to possess her.
She let out a lungful of air. He reached out to trace her lips, his finger following the line where pink fullness gave way to flesh. She pursed her mouth, kissing it, then her tongue peeked out to taste him. The gesture sent the blood straight to his cock. He allowed himself to fantasise for a moment, picturing those full lips enveloping him, as her hair trailed down his thighs. It was electric.
‘Do that again and I won’t answer for my actions.’
She stared at him, her eyes wide. Then, deliberately, she grabbed his hand, bringing his finger back to her mouth. This time she sucked him inside. It was like sliding against velvet. Warm and wet. Jesus Christ, did she know what she was doing to him?
He flipped her over on the bed, her back landing on the mattress. Straddling her hips, his knees either side of her, he grabbed her hands, lifting them over her head. The movement made her chest rise up, her bra visible beneath the open buttons of her dress. Her skin glowed in the soft light of his bedroom.
When he looked at her he half expected to see shock in her eyes. Instead there was a strength that surprised and gratified him. His action hadn’t surprised her at all, he’d done exactly what she’d wanted him to.
What he’d wanted, as well.
She was the one pinned on the bed, but she was the one in control, too. Just one word and he’d let her go. A different kind of word and he’d hold her so close she wouldn’t be able to breathe.
‘I’m going to take your dress off now.’ Starting with the hem, he slowly lifted it over her body, revealing first her legs, then her stomach, and finally her chest. She shifted on the mattress to free up the fabric, until he lifted it over her head. Then she was lying there in front of him, in her bra and panties.
Slowly, he allowed his eyes to roam her body, taking her all in. From the mole on her upper thigh to the soft undulation of her belly. The way her nipples were pushing against the lace of her bra. Just above the waistline of her panties her skin turned from pale to golden. He ran a finger along the divide, marvelling at her smoothness. Then he was touching her all over, allowing his hands to roam, across taut skin and muscle, then to the softer, warmer parts.
Reaching behind her, he unclasped her bra. She was shaking beneath his touch. Not afraid though, no, definitely not that. Or no more fearful than he was about where this was going.
‘I’m not going to have sex with you tonight,’ he told her. The way she winced gratified him. Knowing this girl – this beautiful, clever girl – wanted him, was like a shot of adrenalin to the veins. But this thing growing between them was too delicate right now. He wasn’t willing to break it by moving too fast.
‘You’re not?’
‘I am going to touch you, though. All over.’
‘What if I want to touch you, too?’
She ran her palm down his bulging jeans, curving her fingers to squeeze him. He bucked against her involuntarily, her touch taking him to the chasm between pleasure and pain. It was a relief when she unfastened his jeans, allowing his cock to escape the denim. Then she grabbed him again, this time circling her fingers around him, and it brought stars to his eyes.
‘Be my guest.’ His voice was guttural against her breast. Then he sucked her in and she cried out. He slid his hand inside her panties, and she was wet, so wet. His fingers sought her out, his thumb circling her until she started to moan. Her own hand fluttered on him, moving up and down erratically, squeezing his tip as she did. But even without rhythm the pleasure was almost unbearable. It took everything he had not to grab her hand and force it into his shorts.
Her hips were circling now, moving in time to his thumb. He slid a finger inside her, then two, noticing how warm she was, how tight.
‘Don’t stop, please don’t stop.’
‘I’m not stopping, baby.’ He lifted his head from her chest. She looked fucking glorious, her head tipped back, her lips full and open. Still moving his fingers inside her, he pressed his mouth against hers. She kissed him back feverishly, her tongue curling against his, her breath warm and short when they parted.
‘I’m going to come.’
She didn’t need to tell him, he could already feel her tightening around him. He flicked his thumb harder, moved his fingers faster, tasting her pleasure as he kissed her again.
Her mouth dropped open as she lifted her hips up, her eyes wide as she stared at him. She convulsed around his fingers, her tightness only making him harder, and tiny little breaths escaped from her lips. He curled them inside her, wanting to prolong her pleasure. It was only when her body dropped back onto the mattress that he slowly slid them out.
She was still holding his cock, though.
‘You’re fucking gorgeous,’ he whispered against her mouth. Seeing her explode with pleasure was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Before he could say anything else Cesca reached inside his shorts, her hand enveloping his cock as she started to move it up and down.
Sam squeezed his eyes shut, seeing lights dancing behind the lids. The pleasure she was creating caused him to fall back on the bed, allowing her better access to him, as she pulled him free of the jersey fabric.
The next moment the soft warmth of her mouth slid over him. For a second he felt as if he was going to explode right there. Then she moved her lips down, enveloping him, and he thought if heaven involved sex, then he was already there.
Sam cupped the back of her head, feeling her move up and down as she bobbed her mouth on him. It wasn’t going to take much to finish him, not when he was already so tightly wound by her, by the night, by the sight of her pleasure as it stole her breath.
She cupped his balls, and he felt them tighten. Everything about him was narrowing into a single point. Then she slid her tongue up his shaft, circling his tip, and all he could think was ‘now, now, now . . .’
‘I’m going . . .’ The words died on his tongue. He tugged at her urgently, trying to signal his impending orgasm. She batted him off, refusing to move her mouth, instead she was sucking, licking, tasting . . .
Behind the screen of his eyelids the pleasure exploded, turning his vision into a kaleidoscope of colours. He exploded in her mouth, too, the joy flooding out of him, as she swallowed it down. Then she pulled away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, collapsing to the mattress where she lay next to him.
It felt as though every bone in his body had turned to rubber. A really heavy, exhausted kind of rubber. All the frustrations of the night, his fears as she left for an evening with another man, his worry that she wouldn’t return his admiration – they all disappeared with a single breath.
It was Cesca who broke the silence that followed. ‘Well I don’t usually do that on a first date. Especially with a guy who didn’t even go on the date.’
The corner of his mouth twitched. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He reached out for her, gathering her into the crook of his arm. Like him, her movements were slow, weighed down by satiation. She curled into him again, one of her thighs sliding between his.
‘Stay for a while.’ Like his body, his words were heavy with fatigue.
‘OK,’ she mumbled into him. ‘Just for a bit.’
Before he could protest, her breathing turned heavy and rhythmic, as sleep began to steal its way across her. He closed his eyes, letting it take him, too, still holding her against him.
23
This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet – Romeo and Juliet
‘We should be able to leave early next week.’ Gabi’s voice crackled down the telephone line. ‘I just want to make sure the baby is sleeping a little better before we go. The poor little thing is waking up every two hours.’
‘Next week? That’s very soon.’ Cesca’s thoughts turned to Sam, who she’d left back at the villa an hour earlier. ‘I thought you’d be gone for longer.’
Gabi laughed. ‘What happened to the girl who wanted to go back to England? Has Varenna made you fall in love with it? That happens, you know.’
Staring out at the village square, Cesca saw how easily it could. The village had a character of its own. Traditional yet welcoming, a little piece of old Italy along the banks of Lake Como. ‘It’s a beautiful place to stay,’ she admitted. ‘I’ll miss it when I have to leave.’ The thought of returning to London made her chest hurt. She couldn’t bear to go back to that old life, not that it was any kind of existence, really. Living hand to mouth, dodging landlords and cosying up to bosses. Not able to write a single word . . .
‘Your contract is to stay until the end of the summer, right?’ Gabi asked. ‘And it would give me and Sandro the chance to check on his sister a few more times if you stayed around. You don’t have to leave on our account.’
‘We’ll see,’ Cesca replied, her mind still on London. ‘I don’t want to outstay my welcome. I’m here to do a job, after all, and once that’s done I won’t be needed here any more.’ There was that tight feeling around her ribs, again.
After Gabi hung up, Cesca stayed in the telephone box to call Hugh. Since that first week in Varenna, she’d only spoken to him a couple of times.
‘How lovely to hear from you,’ Hugh said, after she identified herself. ‘Would you like me to call you back? I know how expensive these long distance phone calls can be.’
‘It’s OK,’ she told him. ‘I’ve bought an international calling card with the money the Carltons paid me in advance.’ She didn’t want to be that girl any more.
‘Very wise. So how are you doing, poppet? Have you managed to get much writing done?’
‘As a matter of fact I have.’ Her voice was full of smiles. ‘I’m three quarters of the way through the first draft. I can’t tell you how good it feels.’ What a difference a few weeks made. She was happy to give him a positive answer.
‘That’s wonderful, I can’t wait to read it. I don’t suppose you can send it over to me, can you?’
She laughed. ‘It’s on the computer at the villa, and there’s no internet access there. Besides, I’d like to wait until it’s finished if that’s OK.’
‘I suppose I’ll have to wait then. It won’t be that long until you come back, will it?’
Another reminder of the limited nature of her stay here in Varenna. An unwelcome one, too. Why couldn’t she just stay here for ever, in her lovely cocoon with her writing and Sam?
Oh, Sam. She didn’t want to think about leaving him right now. Not after the past few days.
‘A couple of weeks, possibly,’ she told him. ‘I spoke to Gabi earlier – she’s the housekeeper – and they’re talking about returning to Varenna next week. I’ll need to hand everything over to them and make sure it’s all shipshape.’
‘I thought you’d be rushing back just as soon as they arrived. Not that long ago you wanted to leave straight away.’
‘Yeah, well, I may have been a little precipitate,’ she admitted. ‘Uncle Hugh, I’m so glad you found me this job. It’s changed everything.’ It wasn’t hyperbole either. When she looked in the mirror this morning after cleaning her teeth she wasn’t sure she recognised the girl looking back at her. In such a good way, too. She looked healthier, stronger, and so much more in control. For the first time in years she was taking life by the horns. And the ride was starting to feel amazing.
‘I can’t tell you how happy that makes me, my darling.’ Hugh’s voice cracked as he replied. The closest he came to admitting to emotion. ‘Now you have to keep it up when you get home. We can look into grants, competitions, the opportunities are out there. You just need to take them.’
She didn’t want to talk about that. Not that she wasn’t grateful for his support – she knew how lucky she was to have him. It was more that she didn’t want to face the reality of going home.
It was like she’d been in rehab and now had to see if she could keep her sobriety back in the real world. It was scary.
‘That sounds good.’ She hoped he didn’t notice how quiet her voice was.
‘Are you OK?’ Of course he noticed. ‘I thought you’d be happier about that. My God, if you could write the way you did when you were eighteen, I can only imagine what you can produce now. All the emotion, the angst you’ve been through. It’s perfect training for a writer.’
‘I’m fine.’ She tried to sound resolute. ‘Honestly, you don’t need to worry about me.’ It was such a familiar refrain, but this time – for the first time in six years – it was true.
Hugh was quiet for a moment. She tried to picture him in his London apartment, sitting on one of his antique chairs. In her mind she could see rain pebbling against the window, obscuring the grey clouds outside. ‘Well, let me know when you’re ready to come home. I can arrange for you to be picked up at the airport. Do you know where you’re planning to live? I could clear out my spare bedroom.’
‘I’ll find somewhere,’ she said. ‘If the worst comes to the worst I can stay with my father for a few days. And you don’t need to pick me up, I can use the Underground. I can afford it now.’ Not for long, though. Not without a job or benefits.
‘Well, the offer’s always open. I’m looking forward to seeing you. And to reading your play.’
‘I’m looking forward to it, too.’ A tiny lie. Because she loved him, and at any other time it would be true.
When she arrived back at the villa, arms laden with food, Sam was waiting for her at the gate. He’d taken a chair out there and was editing her work in the sun, crossing through her words. He looked up when he heard her approaching, a smile breaking out on his face. She wanted him to lift his sunglasses, too, so she could see his eyes. She hated it when she couldn’t see them.
‘I hope you’re wearing sunscreen,’ she said, as he took the bags from her hands. ‘It’s almost midday.’
‘I hope you are, too,’ he said pointedly. ‘Especially with your pale skin.’
She looked down at her arms. ‘I’m not pale. Well, not any more, anyway.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Parts of you are.’ She sensed his gaze sweeping down over her body. Was it wrong that she liked his appreciation?
