The Abby Green Modern Collection. ABBY GREEN

he freed her hands at last, where she hesitated for one weak, desperate moment before giving in under his sensual onslaught and the inevitability of her situation, which meant she couldn’t walk away again. She had no choice. She was on a course that was destined to come to its conclusion. A course that she had put them on. A course Tom had put them on six months ago.

      As much as they conversely wanted to punch against him for making her feel like this, those treacherous hands climbed up over his chest, up again…until they were around his neck, fingers tangling in the silky strands of hair that brushed his T-shirt. Knowing that somewhere within her all was lost, she gave into what she had for now. And what she had was him—kissing her, making love to her. She pressed close, as close as she could, and wound her arms even tighter round his neck, her kisses matching his, passion for passion. This was all she’d have. His contempt and his passion. So she’d take it.

      Caleb pulled back for a moment; he could feel Maggie trembling violently in his arms, had felt something run through her. ‘Hey…slow down.’ He felt as though he should be comforting her. The light of something very guarded in her eyes caught him and held him; she reminded him of a cornered animal, fighting to protect itself. But that was crazy…

      ‘I’m sorry, I just…I…’

      With a finger to her lips, he silenced her. If he didn’t know better he’d say she was overwhelmed, inexperienced…but then dismissed that notion. An act. It had to be. For some reason it was vitally important.

      Her uneven breaths were pushing her breasts against him. He trailed one finger down her heated cheek, around the delicate line of her jaw and down, over her collar-bone, to where the first button held her shirt together. Not allowing her to pull away, he flipped it open, then the next, then the next. He could feel her breath growing more ragged but at least that awful desperation seemed to have gone. That enigmatic light in her eyes had now been replaced by something much more recognisable. Desire.

      The shirt fell open to reveal a simple plain sheer bra. He could see the pink aureoles of her nipples, beading, puckering around the tight tips. He brought up his hand and traced the line of her breast, staying away from the sensitive centre, down into the valley, over the mound that spilled from the top, and then finally, slowly, down to where the nipples had grown even harder, tighter.

      Maggie was biting into her bottom lip, a shudder running through her, a faint sign of perspiration on her brow as one thumb rotated around that aureole, before finally coming to the centre of where all of her nerve-endings were screaming for release. With a thumb and forefinger, he pinched gently and Maggie felt her legs buckle. Caleb caught her and, just feet away from them, brought her over and lowered her on to the couch. Her response was testing his control to the limit. She lay back and watched as he pulled his T-shirt impatiently over his head, revealing his perfect torso.

      He put his hands over hers at her sides and pressed a quick kiss to her mouth, before moving down, lips over her neck, the thumping pulse and down, into the valley, before closing in a kiss over one aching peak. Her arms held captive, Maggie writhed with the pleasure as his mouth moved to the other side and the onslaught started all over again. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. All she was blissfully aware of was the heaven of sensations Caleb was taking her to as his mouth sucked, teeth nipped.

      With a graceful movement he pulled her up and pushed the shirt from her shoulders, unhooked her bra and pulled it off. He set her back and looked his fill.

      ‘So beautiful.’

      He traced the curves of her waist, her soft belly, and his fingers halted at the button on her trousers. He pressed her back down and came over her, his chest rubbing deliciously against her breasts. His mouth covered hers, her arms wound around his neck and their tongues met in a dance that took her breath away. The hand at her trousers undid the button. She felt constricted and wanted them off, lifting her hips to help him pull them down, kicking them free, their lips still clinging together.

      He stopped and looked down, saw her plain white knickers, her slender, shapely legs. He ran a hand upwards over one silken flank and hovered close to where he wanted nothing more than to feel the evidence of her desire. He heard, felt her breath stop.

      She was so beguiling, in nothing but the knickers, her whole body covered in a dusting of freckles, and he wanted her more desperately than he’d ever wanted anyone. His jeans contained his arousal…just.

      In the next instant he lifted her into his arms and brought her into the bedroom. She felt curiously vulnerable to him, naked in his arms against his chest, her arms tight around his neck. Maggie marvelled dimly that she had thought that when they got to this stage she’d be paralysed with nerves…but there was a fever in her blood that drowned out anything other than Caleb…and her. It felt right. And good. As if how they had got here didn’t matter—what mattered was that they were here.

      Once in the bedroom, he put her down on unsteady feet. Her eyes were dark and fathomless. He reached around and undid the pins holding her hair back and it fell in a curtain of waves and curls around her shoulders and down her back. Without taking his eyes off hers, he undid his jeans and pulled them down, stepping out of them.

      He was naked. Maggie’s hot gaze moved down and took him in. He was magnificent. Having been with only one man before, she felt out of her depth…and yet, conversely…knew what to do. It was something she couldn’t even begin to figure—it was just an innate knowing. Something between her and this man. A knowing that made every cell in her body ache to have him inside her, filling her. She shook with the force of the emotion running through her and yet, to her surprise, it didn’t scare her.

      She looked up for a brief moment and the expression in Caleb’s eyes set her pulse on fire. Filled with a sense of sensual adventure, emboldened by his dark look, his obvious arousal for her, she reached out, dimly wondering how on earth she had the nerve, and closed one small hand around the length of him. She could feel it pulse, jump slightly, the satin smooth skin moving against the hard shaft. Her hand looked tiny and pale around it, barely able to encircle it. She felt a liquid coil of desire within her.

      She looked up into Caleb’s face and his eyes were slits; there were slashes of dark colour on each cheek bone and he struggled with his breath. The thought that she was doing this to him made her feel exultant in her sexuality.

      He was gone beyond the place of reason or coherence. The intoxicating mix of her wide-eyed innocence and her obvious know-how was too much. He shook with the need to be inside her, filling her…this woman, no one else. He wouldn’t, couldn’t think of all the other men she’d done this for. It would kill him. He vowed to take her so completely that she’d never want another man again. He stopped her hand with his, his voice was guttural, hoarse. ‘Maggie…stop unless you want this to be over very quickly.’

      He moved her back to the bed, tumbling her down. She watched as he came over her on two strong arms. She moved back to allow him room and then he was running his hands down, over the peaks and hollows, lingering, sometimes tracing with his mouth where his hands had been and then his mouth hovered over her belly button, his tongue flicking out to taste.

      His hands reached her knickers and slowly but surely started to pull them down. They dropped on to the floor. Now she was bared completely and she felt Caleb nudge her legs open with his body. She felt a breath there, where the molten core of her was. She couldn’t look and flung an arm over her face in a fit of shyness. His hands came under her buttocks, tilting her slightly, and then she felt his tongue exploring, leaving a wet, hot trail as it crept up one inner thigh, then the other, before spreading her even further, opening her up so that his mouth…and tongue could seek and find that rock-hard small piece of flesh that no other man had ever touched with such intimacy.

      When his tongue found it, circled it, sucked…she thought she’d die…and then his tongue moved down…and entered her. She tensed and arched her back. Her other hand gripped the sheets. Her breathing was so fractured and tortured she thought she might pass out. How could he do this…make her feel like this…so liquid and wanton and…? She couldn’t stop herself—the spiral was building, like a coil tightening; his tongue was harder, thrusting deeper, until finally she was pushed to the