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  ‘Do you like this, Querida?’ he said with a growl against her skin. Her reply was a little moan.

  ‘Tell me, Jane. Does this feel good?’

  ‘Yes.’ She breathed the word slowly, as if it took all her concentration to form the sounds.

  His mouth travelled down over her collar bone, and meandered down to her breast. As he felt her breathing speed up, he let his tongue circle the curve of her breast, the way his fingers had the night before. There was only one goal in mind, and the anticipation of that rose-tip awaiting his mouth had his painful arousal surging forward.

  The slow meander around her breast, moving steadily closer to that tip, came to a hungry end as he clamped his lips around it and drew the nipple into his mouth. She cried out, raking her fingernails across his bare shoulders, digging in, as her excitement escalated. Her back arched as he sucked hard on the tiny nub, feeling it harden and elongate in his mouth. Oh, this was pleasure unlike anything he’d ever known.

  He let one hand stray lower as he moved to suckle from her other breast. Jane squirmed beneath his touch, enflaming him further. When he slipped his hand under the skin hugging shorts she still wore and used his palm to cup her maidenhead, she bucked, shooting up into his hand with a wild, primal thrust.

  ‘Julio,’ she cried his name. He had never heard anything as sweet as that one work asking for what she didn’t understand and had no experience of. That one word pleaded with him for more, pleaded with him to end her blissful agony.

  He let his fingers sink into her core, and came up from her breast so he could watch her face as it reflected the pleasure he wrought. The smug smile that formed on his lips was his only answer to her pleading look.

  At a moment like this, he wished he knew more about female erogenous zones. He knew the theory, but the practical elements were hazy. How much pressure should he use and where?

  Letting his mind turn off, he went with instinct, grinding the heel of his hand into her mound as he pressed into her with his long fingers. It felt so hot and wet, his only thought was to be in her with another part of his body. The part that was so close to climaxing, he doubted he would be able to last more than a second if he did try to breach her maidenhead.

  He sought her mouth, and kissed it feverishly, plunging into her with his tongue as he did with his fingers. When she sucked on his tongue with innocent desperation, he lost it. With a wild cry he drew his hand back from her core and crushed his pelvis against hers, just as wave after wave of pleasured release, unlike anything he’d ever known, and washed over him.

  It wasn’t until he was able to breathe again that he noticed how still she’d gone. Terrified he’d frightened her, he looked down into her face, lifting the dead weight of his body off her. Her huge green eyes were filled with horror. His heart plunged.

  ‘Are you in pain? Did I hurt you?’ she asked, her voice tremulous, as she smoothed over the gouges she’d made in his shoulders only seconds ago. Suddenly he understood. She had no idea what had happened.

  Capturing her mouth with his, he kissed her hard and then pulled back to smile at her. ‘No pain. This virginal body of mine is just a little too quick off the mark. ‘

  When her expression didn’t clear, he snorted a laugh and kissed her again. ‘You do know what happens between a man and woman, don’t you?’

  The indignant scowl told him she thought he was patronising her. ‘Okay, you do. Then you should also know that a man spills his seed when he…’

  ‘Orgasms. I know the theory. Are you telling me that you just had an orgasm? Why would you want to do that if it hurts so much!’ Her voice was angry now, and his delight intensified. She was like no woman he’d ever known.

  ‘My dearest Jane, what you witnessed was not pain. It was pure, unadulterated, blissful release.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yeah, oh. It will get better. I just have to train this body a bit.’

  ‘Wasn’t it good for you?’

  ‘Yeah, too good. Why would ask that?’

  ‘You said it would get better…’

  The way her face puckered with consternation had him laughing again.

  ‘For you. It will get better for you.’

  ‘But that was amazing. How could it get better than that?’ Her eyes were huge in wonder and embarrassed delight.

  ‘Querida, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet! But I think we’ll postpone the next lesson until we have more privacy. I feel like Maggie is hearing every sound we make. She’ll be throwing me some nasty looks, for having spent the night with you, as it is.’

  ‘I guess so. I actually forgot this was her place for a while there.’

  ‘Hmmm. You had a lot on your mind. Let’s take a shower.’

  It was not the best idea he had ever had for postponing further sexual exploration. As soon as he had her in the shower cubicle, stripped of her little shorts, his arousal was once more refocusing his attention. Instead of cleanliness, he was suddenly more interested in watching the soap suds slide down her body into the tight triangle of curls. Those curls were as golden as her hair and wet, they sent other more erotic messages to his brain.

  For Jane, the discoveries she had made since waking up that morning were the most powerful of her life. All she could do was stand, naked and vulnerable, as she trusted Julio to take her where she wanted to go. Her body, this new body, was a mine of pleasurable sensations. It didn’t matter what Julio did to her, where he touched her, her body reverberated with pleasure.

  That he was not the super confident sex god she thought he’d be intensified her bliss. This man had known such pain in his life, had lived inside a body he detested for hundreds of years, never caring for it or anyone else. Now he wanted to care for her, give her pleasure, and she was humbled and empowered by his delight in her. It didn’t even matter that she still considered this new body not hers. He wasn’t making love to her body, but using it to get to her. And that was intensely reassuring.

  Now, as she let him remove her little shorts and watched with rapt attention as he removed his, she felt transported to a different plane of existence. In this place, there was no shyness, no insecurities and no pain. In this moment, she was everything that was beautiful, valuable and treasured. Even the sight of him erect and throbbing, made her feel sexy and desired. The thought of what that part of him might do to her was both exciting and terrifying. Her lack of knowledge and her childhood memories of those unwanted, invading hands, only taking a little of the magic from the moment.

  She didn’t notice much about the shower they stood in. That it fired fine pellets of water at her from every direction at once, soaking her thoroughly without drowning her, was all she registered. Julio’s body had her total attention: those incredible dark, muscular planes of him, flexing as he moved; his strength a counterpoint to her pale fragility; his movie star good looks transformed by tenderness, damp with misting water; eyelashes spiked with glistening drops.

  How she wanted to touch him. Her hands itched to touch him. But he seemed so intent on soaping her body, drawing from it all manner of tingling sensations that she wasn’t sure she was allowed. As his head pressed into her neck as his soapy hands slid down to the junction between her legs, the need to touch became an obsession.

  ‘Can … I …’

  His head came up so their gazes met. The look of fierce possession had her gasping. He was on the brink of some powerful, uncontrolled emotion, and its intensity plunged into her, sizzling through ever nerve-ending in her body. It came to rest at her core, enflaming her there as nothing he had done thus far had achieved.

  ‘What?’ he demanded hoarsely, those eyes running over her face, looking for something.

  ‘Is … it…’

  ‘What Jane? Am I scaring you? I’ll pull back if I’m coming on too strong.’ And she could see the truth in the tense coil of his muscles. If she had wanted him to stop, though he was barely in control, he would have done just that. For her. For her. There was nothing selfish in his love-makin
g now. It was all for her.

  She shook her head, trying to find words that had seemed so easy when they’d lain in bed, such a short time ago. Now her brain wouldn’t co-operate. There was so much she wanted to say, to ask. But nothing came.

  ‘I’ll stop. I’m sorry. This was supposed to be a quick clean up and then out. Yet again, I seem incapable of following through with my best intentions.’ He was angry and frustrated with himself, she could see. And that was the opposite of what she wanted him to feel. She wanted him to feel the bliss his touch elicited in her. She wanted to pleasure herself by running her hands across his body, down those sculpted muscles of his torso and around that strangely appealing primitive part of him.

  ‘No…’ she managed to get out. ‘I want to touch you. Can I… touch you?’ With relief, she finally managed to voice her desire. The look of astonished joy that crossed his face was more than enough reward for the completion of her task.

  ‘Good god woman, why would you have to ask?’ He grabbed her hands and placed them on the flat plain of his belly. Then he let them go, giving her permission to do what she wanted.

  With his back pressed against the cubicle wall, he stood still, hands at his sides, watching her like a panther, waiting his time, patient but ready. Licking her dry lips, she started to move her hands over his hard planes, circling, dancing with his flesh. Wherever she went, the skin twitched in response. Looking up, she checked how he was feeling by the expression in his eyes.

  They were on fire, dark as midnight now, burning her with their tightly contained force. They told her she was pleasing him, told her she was doing just what he needed. What she needed. How could hard flesh like this be so arousing? It was like touching warm marble, so smooth and so solid. But when he flinched, and drew in an agonised breath, she knew he was anything but stone.

  ‘Can I…’ she started

  He grabbed her hands in desperation, and clamped them around the hard length of him. What she had wanted and couldn’t say, he had wanted, too. He tore his hands away and flattened them against the wall, his head thrown back. Slowly, very slowly, she began to move along the length of him, barely skirting the soft skin beneath her palms.

  ‘Oh, god!’ he exclaimed, hitting his head against the wall.

  ‘Ouch! That hurt. Don’t do that!’ she ordered him.

  He looked down at her with a painful, little smile. ‘I’m knocking some sense into my head,’ he managed to get out, before what she was doing with her hands had him hissing. She saw soft, vulnerable pleasure wash over his face.

  She let her hands wander down to the heavy sacks at the base of his shaft. Touching them tentatively, she watched his body surge up toward her. In pleased amazement, she realised she was killing him with delight.

  ‘Can you pick me up?’ she asked uncertainly.

  In one powerful movement, he lifted her so that her legs wrapped around his slippery body, her arms holding tight to his neck.

  ‘Bring me down on you,’ she ordered gently, nervously. Not sure what she was asking for, but knowing that she wanted that hard length of pulsating power buried deep inside her.

  He nearly chocked in astonishment, but did her bidding. He was so strong, and she so slim and light, it was nothing for him to hold her, the hard length of him pressed against her core. It felt good, so good. Her body seemed to be opening for him, as if it knew better than she, what to do.

  Very slowly, he pressed his way in, holding back as her body stretched to accommodate him. She watched his face as he did it, watched the deep concentration, the almost brutal control he was enforcing on himself. Then there was a sharp pain, and she winced, crying out.

  ‘It’s okay, Querida, it’s okay. Just relax, just relax.’ His voice was all gravel and honey. And she did his bidding, focusing her mind on the muscles inside her new body, telling them to relax, to let him in. Suddenly he was sliding deep, and her pelvis was flush with his. She couldn’t hold back the little surprised gasp at the feeling of fullness. And the absolute sense of wholeness had her shuddering. Pulling his shoulders down, she sought the feel of his heart against her own.

  ‘Julio…’ was all she managed to get out, as he drew her hips away so his arousal withdrew from her. Desperate to stop him, she whimpered, trying to keep him from pulling out. But then he was surging into her again, and she understood what he was doing. The delight of the stroke had her gasping again. When he pulled back once more, she went along, glorying in the slide and the pleasure that seemed to radiate out from it. And this time when he slid home, it was with a wildness she hadn’t anticipated. It took her, like a rising storm, and for an infinite time she could think of nothing but his flesh pounding into hers as the misty rain of the shower sprayed them from every direction.

  When he cried out this time, she knew what was happening, and she clung tight to his hard, wet, pulsing body, biting down onto his shoulder with her teeth.

  But whatever was happening to her was not finished when he became still and gasped for air. There was an ache deep inside her that was growing, and she didn’t know what to do – how to ease it, or how to build it. She wanted…

  She shifted her hips against him, moving his still hard flesh into her. He looked at her then, and his expression told her he understood what she didn’t. His fingers found their way between their bodies and he began to touch the delicate, sensitised flesh where their bodies met. She gasped, and jerked against his hand, and he drew her away and touched her even more. Something was happening inside her, she could feel her muscles flexing around his flesh, and the intense, exquisite pleasure built until she was moving herself on his hand and she could feel him filling her again.

  ‘I’m hard again,’ he told her what she already knew. He slid back so his fingers could do their work more effectively. She jerked, thrusting her hips up so that his body had to fill her again. And he had to draw her back, and hold her in place, so he could continue his delightful work.

  ‘Let me,’ he whispered. ‘Just go with the feeling. Let it build and then let go… Don’t try to force it,’ he coached.

  She didn’t understand what he meant. Didn’t understand what was happening to her. Oh, she knew the name for what she was heading for, but not the experience. She rested with her head against Julio’s throat, just feeling, amazed by the sounds that were coming from her mouth – the whimpers, the little cries. Was this her?

  And then she felt it, the breaking surge that took her like an undertow. And she cried out, as exquisite pleasure washed over her in waves, until it deposited her, boneless and replete against him.

  ‘I have to…’ Julio said as he started his own climb again. His arms shook with urgency as he drew her away and then back, away and back, and suddenly she was wanting more, the aching need that had so recently been met, was now clamouring for more.

  He thrust again and again into her welcome body, their breathing harsh and gasping. The tendrils of desire were coiling tightly around her again, as higher and higher she went. Then he was pounding into her in a frenzy of release and she felt the undertow rip her off her feet and drag her under, as deeper, more intense waves of ecstasy froze her body rigid, and she rode the wave blissfully to shattering completion.

  When they were both able to breathe again, Julio separated their bodies, and drew her down so her feet were flat on the tiled floor. He brushed the wet hair back from her face and looked at her with such amazed wonder she wanted to cry.

  ‘Wash quickly. Then we’re flat on that bed of yours. I’m not sure my legs are going to hold me up much longer.’ It wasn’t exactly the most romantic thing a man could say at such a moment. But Jane understood exactly how he felt. Her bones seemed to have turned to jelly, and she was having trouble staying upright.

  They washed quickly, wrapped their still wet bodies in towels, and then headed back across the corridor to her room. There was no sign of Maggie anywhere. Hopefully, she was still asleep. Although it felt like they had been awake for hours, she doubted it was much pas
t seven.

  They both collapsed across the bed, not worried that they soaked the bedclothes. Julio shuffled over and pulled her with him until she was resting her head on his chest, her body plastered to his side. Where it belonged, she realised with a start. Adam’s rib.

  What a fascinating thought! She remembered scripture classes and the story of creation. It had never made sense that God had made Eve out of Adam’s rib. But suddenly it did, because that was what it felt like, as if she was meant to be pressed to his side this way, back where she belonged.

  But it wasn’t God Who had made these bodies. Scientists had. They had grown them from a few cells of their old bodies, well, not hers, some other woman’s. But for most of them, it was from their own cells. How did they grow something that wasn’t alive? It seemed both awe-inspiring and horrific at the same time.

  She had never been a particularly religious person, but she believed in God. And she wondered what that Creator thought of man’s discoveries. Did He see it as blasphemy, or was it allowed as mercy for a race that had been punished so badly. Take away their ability to reproduce, but give them a way to continue. It seemed the sort of thing a compassionate God would do.

  ‘I didn’t want that to happen. I wanted you to have the time to… get used to your body… this world. I feel like I’m pushing you into things too quickly,’ Julio finally said, as he played with a strand of wet hair. He wound it around and around his finger.

  ‘Do you hear me complaining?’ she replied, stroking the hairs on his chest.

  ‘No, but you don’t complain, Jane. That’s who you are. You take whatever’s handed out, and just make the best of it.’

  She couldn’t help laughing. She had never heard anything so absurd in her life. That he could even think that she had ‘made the best of’ this situation was ludicrous. Surely he knew what kind of pleasure he’d given her? Never in her wildest, childish dreams of love making, could she have imagined it to be like this reality.

  ‘You’re right. I do just make do, don’t I? Do you think there’s another guy out there who can give me better orgasms? I guess I don’t know what’s possible… Should I find out?’