His hands, until now idle, began to roam, one to her head and neck, pulling her eager mouth closer still and the other down her back, tracing her spin... with firm and somehow tender contact. His mind was full of her now, tasting her breath, one hand with a fist full of hair not to hurt or to control, just to increase the feeling of contact and the other roving, almost self propelled. The curve of her neck became the focus of his lips, a brush, a bite, a taste and all the while his hand, free to. She sprayed the perfume into the air as the room began to warm in the soft flickering glow. She then turned to the bed and eased all the creases out. Charlotte lingered over the hollow his head had made in the pillow the night before, before plumping it up. These little things are the most important she thought as she then sat down at her dressing table and took out her hair brush from the drawer and started to brush her long chestnut hair before tying it up with a pink satin ribbon. It was. More

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