He lifted his lips from hers and his face was still indistinct above her. Tanned skin, dark, lustrous eyes, the mouth that had kissed hers full and red... And smiling… She could easily tell that he was smiling, although the subtle nuances of the smile were a mystery. There was no way to tell whether he was smug and macho, or sensitive and tender, although the way he began to gently stroke her breast suggested the latter.
Suddenly, she had to know his name.
‘Who are you? What’s your name?’
There was a long pause, and despite the deficiencies of her vision, she sensed a certain withdrawal in his face.
‘Just call me “Guy”,’ he said, something in his voice, some element of command, compelling her not to question him further. The way his lips came down on hers, harder this time, compounded the impression.
Okay, no questions, she thought, turning off all rationality and reason and surrendering to ‘Guy’ and the predications of her senses. His kiss became more demanding, almost ferocious, and she found herself answering in kind, her tongue fighting, duelling, twining with his, as her hands clutched at his shoulders, his back, and his hard, muscular buttocks through the lightish cloth of what she was certain now was a pair of combat trousers. As he moved against her, his massive body both dominant and protective, the solid bulge at his groin brushed her thigh.
Oh God… Oh God… I’m going to have sex with this man and I have absolutely no idea who he is and I don’t even want to ask him… Feeling like a slut, yet not in the slightest ashamed of the fact, she surged against him, twisting beneath him and rubbing herself rudely against his magnificent erection.