Page 86 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars

It’s a quick kiss, no tongues, just a press of our lips together several times, but it sends my heart racing, and from the way she inhales I can tell hers is doing the same.

I lift my head and take her hand. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

We walk the short distance to the apartment, I open the door, and follow her inside. Neither of us switches on the lights. The sun has set now, and to our right Queenstown is springing to life, glowing in the semi-darkness like a jewel, while the moon hangs over the mountains, white and gleaming. The windows have automated shutters, but I leave them open and toss my wallet and keys onto the coffee table in front of the sofa.

“Come and sit with me,” I tell her.

She takes off her sandals and lowers down. I sit next to her, not quite touching, and we turn toward one another.

“Okay,” I say, taking her hand in mine. “We need to talk about this.”

Her face falls. “You’re going to turn me down.”

“No. I’m not.” I watch her eyes light up again. “But if we’re going to sleep together, I need to explain a few rules.”

She sits quietly, her eyes huge.

“First,” I tell her, “your room,” and I point toward it, “is your safe space. I will never, ever, go into it without your permission. So if you need time alone at any point, you can go in there and I won’t follow you in. Understand?”

She nods.

“If we do this,” I continue, “I need you to know that you are going to be in charge. You are going to drive the action, and you’ll tell me what you feel comfortable doing. If at any point you want to stop, you tell me to stop, and I’ll stop immediately. And I won’t get cross or upset, I promise. This is all about you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’re going to tell me when you’re ready, and you’re going to give me permission every step of the way. I’m not even going to come without your permission.” Her lips curve up, and I add, “Probably. I’ll do my best.”

She giggles, then glances toward the cabinet at the other end of the room. “I was wondering… do you think it would be a good idea if I had a… um… glass of wine or a shot of something? To relax me?”

“Ordinarily, I’d say absolutely. But tonight I think it’s imperative that you don’t go within a mile of any alcohol. I want you completely in control and not under the influence of anything except my devastating charm.”

She sucks her bottom lip and nods. “So, um… do we go to the bedroom?”

“No.” I lean on the back of the sofa, my head resting on my hand, and reach out the other hand to caress her cheek. “We’re going to do it here.”

Her eyes widen. “On the sofa?”

“Uh-huh.” I don’t want anything we do to remind her of her previous experience, and I presume that was in a bedroom, on her back on a bed. “You’re going to be on top.”

“Oh! Um… you want me to take off my clothes?”

“Not until you’re ready. First, we’re going to make out for a while.”

She chuckles. “Make out? I’m not fourteen anymore.”

“You don’t want to snog me?”

“Oh God, I totally do.”

We both laugh, and I cup her head and kiss her. She lifts her arms around my neck, and I wrap mine around her, and in seconds she opens her mouth to me, letting me slide my tongue against hers as we indulge in a long, sensual kiss.

I don’t know if I’d call myself a good lover—I’ve spent too long in the UK to be anything but unassuming about things like that—but I like to think I’m considerate, and I’ve always tried to put the girl first and make sure she has a good time before I even think about my own pleasure.

This is a whole new ball game, though. I’m going to need iron self-control, and I mustn’t get carried away—or at least not until right at the very end, if we get that far, and she gives me permission to climax.

Gently, carefully, I move her so she’s sitting on my lap, which I hope makes her feel comfortable and as if she’s in charge.

We kiss then, for a long time, while the last rays of the sun disappear beneath the horizon, the sky darkens, and stars begin to pop out. The apartment faces south, so soon we’ll be able to see the Southern Cross and the Milky Way splashed across the sky like spilled milk. Somehow it feels appropriate to make love under the southern stars. When I’m back in the UK, I might have to get a tattoo of the Crux constellation, somewhere near my wings.

---