Chapter 2

"Good morning, Martin." Louisa purrs in a seductive whisper. "I thought you'd never wake up."

The first thing I see is Louisa's hair, her wonderful dark mane, cascading down towards me. A quick check reveals several more or less disturbing facts – Louisa is kneeling on me, her hand is indeed under my top and the longer I look into her eyes, staring down at me, the more I feel myself getting lost in them.

I know I have to do something, but for the life of me I don't know what.

Yes, of course. I have to stop it!

But why? She's making you feel so bloody wonderful, you haven't felt this way for ages!

Yes, but James! He's in his cot, just a few feet away. He will see and hear everything.

"Louisa?" I croak, and I notice in amazement that my voice sounds strangely strangled, deep, shaky and husky.

She quickly kisses my lips. Nothing passionate, but it sends by blood racing. I manage a completely idiotic "It's hot."

"Yes, Martin, it is rather warm in here. Maybe you're too buttoned up? Maybe that's the problem?"

Without waiting for an answer, her slender hands attack the top button of my pyjamas and deftly undo it. She manages to open three more buttons before I compose myself enough to speak. Again, my voice is at least a third deeper than usual, much to my horror.

"What are you doing?" I ask like a complete idiot, as if this isn't obvious.

"Just thought I'd make you more comfortable?" Louisa's face is dangerously close to mine, and I can't guarantee that I can control myself for much longer. I was yearning for her since…since…actually, come to think of it, since my job interview. She's playing a very dangerous game.

While I lie here, staring up at her, she had managed to unbutton my pyjama top and pushes it away, so that my bare chest is presented to her. She runs her hands over it, slowly and with exactly the right pressure. I try to suppress my moan, but a strangled sound escapes my mouth.

Louisa looks at me, and I can't read her expression – there is something sombre about her, even a bit aggressive, something sad, and something else, which I can't point out.

My ridiculous voice whispers: "Louisa, you don't have to do that?"

"What?" She sounds a bit annoyed, but I'm not sure what about exactly.

"Eehhhmmm…" and I feel myself blush from ear to ear. "You know…" My voice trails off.

"Why not?"

"Please don't think I expect from you…I mean, you don't have to, for my sake…I…" I can't talk any more, as she slaps me quite hard.

"Ouch!" Now I am completely awake. I prop myself up as far as it is possible with Louisa kneeling above me. "What was that for?" I'm not even angry with her. I just want to understand.

"You really think I'm doing this for your sake, do you?"

Somehow I managed to make her angry again. "Honest, Louisa, you really don't have to …I mean…"

She strikes out again, and I prepare myself for another blow. Instead, her hand lands gently on my head and pulls teasingly at my hair.

"You stupid man! Did it never occur to you that I have some needs, too? And right now, I need you."

Her face approaches mine and soon her lips cover mine. This time her kiss is deeper, she rests her body on mine, lying on my chest, running one hand through my hair and the other one underneath my pushed back, open pyjama top along my shoulders.

My control starts to falter. Well, that's putting it mildly. It withers away like roses in December. Or melts like butter in the sun.

Gosh, it is hot in here!

The kiss becomes more and more carnal. I lift my hand and bury it in her hair.

I know it is wrong what I'm doing, but I dreamt of this for so long. I simply haven't got the strength to do the right thing any longer.

She comes up for air and is towering above me, looking down at me somehow triumphantly.

"Louisa, we really shouldn't. Think of James."

She puts on a rather sly smile, before she bends down, and almost touching my ear, she whispers: "Don't worry about him. He won't tell anybody."

Then she bites my earlobe, and she knows darn well on what road that sends me.

I can't suppress the moan that escapes my lips and I can hear her chuckle.

It dawns on me that this is not only about physical contact. This is about power. This is about the power she has over me. She wants to prove that she knows exactly what buttons she has to push to send me.

I couldn't care less.

I am completely under her spell, and since yesterday – no, that's not true, actually since she moved out – I know for certain that I am putty in her hands. That I would do almost everything to keep her.

For a moment like this I'm prepared to sell my soul – except that it has no market value.

But I'm really apprehensive about making love in front of my son. That is not a suitable children's program, after all. If she has in mind what I think she has, and certainly what dominates my brain, then it's for adults only.

"But he would see us." I stammer.

For the first time in weeks, no months, Louisa laughs. How much I had missed that. Her solemn face had proved to me that I make her miserable. That is the only price I'm not prepared to pay to have this moment.

But she laughs, and it is so liberating, that I sink back into the cushions and just gaze up at her.

She brings both of her hands towards my head and locks it firmly. She scratches her nails over my scalp, and she knows darn well what that does to me.

My breathing accelerates, I feel dizzy and … horny.

This woman can play with my emotions like no one ever could.

She removes her hands and they flutter over my chest again.

"James doesn't know what's going on. He's too young for that. We'll be fine." She says, and I could listen to her voice for the rest of my rotten life. "Just fine." She whispers, then lowers herself down to trail kisses over my chest.

The soft touch of her mouth is driving me crazy. If I really want to avoid anything happening, I'll have to do it now.

I prop myself up, which makes her stop and look at me with astonishment.

"I think we'd better stop." I force myself to say calmly.

"Martin." She looks me straight in the eye. "Shut up." She orders gently.

"But…"

She puts her finger on my lips, and I withstand the urge to suck it.

Then she takes my arms and leads them to the headboard.

"Cling to that." She advises. "I just have to check something."

With this cheeky comment her head disappears under the blanket. It just takes a moment, and I feel what she is up to.

When I look down, I just see the outline of her body under the blanket.

I feel her touch. Her hand reaches under the elastics of my pyjama bottoms. She pulls at my pyjamas, and soon I feel her body leaning against my naked legs.

I know what she is up to, and my skin, tongue and lips are tingling in anticipation.

I know it isn't right, but I can't stop her. I simply can't.

I feel her hands sliding under my pants and I suck in air.

Her head pops up for a second. "Your plumbing surely needs fixing." She smiles up at me, and my brain can't form the words neither to contradict nor confirm.

I just stare up at the ceiling, clinging onto the headboard as if my life depends on it and I get lost in those crazy sensation her fingers give me. She tickles and strokes me, as if my already keen dodger would need any encouragement. My head swims, my blood races, my defences are down while something else is up.

She licks it, she actually, truly licks it, and I shiver. This is better than any dream that I ever had about her. I always was too decent in my dreams. This is the naughtiest I've ever experienced, and much to my embarrassment it sends me right into the stratosphere.

My hands hurt now, as I'm gripping tightly to the headboard, sure that I would faint and fall over despite lying down if I let go.

She's working me up, and I realise that this isn't good enough. I want to be inside her. Gosh, did I really think that?

I croak something unintelligible under my breath, between moans. She peeks up, her hands around my waist.

"Yeah?" She asks, as if I had disturbed her during some important business.

Clumsily and reluctantly I let the headboard go and reach down to her face.

"Come for me." My voice is surprisingly steady, but still definitely too deep. A side effect of the testosterone teeming through my body.

Louisa scrambles up, mounting me. While I am completely naked under the sheets, she is still in her night dress, inclusively the blue jumper she seems to prefer lately.

I let my hands roam over her hips and her bottom. I like her curvy figure. She's a woman.

She no longer orders me to hold onto the headboard. She kneels calmly astride me. My hand sneaks under her top. She doesn't stop me.

My eyes are locked into hers. I want her.

She brings out in me raw emotions I always sneered about, especially….

I suddenly see that something is bothering her. Did I do something wrong? She looks shell-shocked.

I withdraw my hand and suddenly feel exposed, with no clothes on.

"Louisa, what did I do?" I ask, my eyes widened with shock. Have I been too bold?

She starts to cry, and I don't want that. I don't know what's wrong.

I hesitate a second, not knowing what to do. Finally I heave myself up a bit so that I can put my arm around her shoulder. She doesn't shrug it off, so probably it's OK.

She's quietly sobbing, and I keep stroking her shoulder, but I simply have to know what it is all about.

"Louisa, what's wrong?"

"I'm such an idiot! This was a mistake. I'm sorry."

To be continued…