She touched her tongue against his, opened her mouth, her lips pressed so firmly against his and he thought how gentle she was, how vulnerable she felt beneath him, his arms either side of her, holding him up, just ever so slightly pressing his chest against her own.

The hem of her jumper brushed against the side of his hand, the wool of it rougher than he'd expected, and he found that if he splayed his fingers against the mattress then his thumb met with the strip of bare skin at her waist, so soft and warm and it flinched as he brushed against it. She smiled against his lips, and pulled away slightly.

"That tickles."

She breathed, her lips were swollen from kissing him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkled.

"Sorry."

He whispered, and leant down to kiss her again but she dipped her head back further away from him and slipped her arm beneath the covers to find his own, taking a hold of his fingers.

"If you want to touch me..."

She murmured, and she moved his hand further along so that he had to lean down on his elbow, and she placed his hand against the gentle curve of her stomach, the hem of her jumper having ridden up more here and he hesitated, feeling her skin beneath his palm.

She let go of his hand and waited, half expecting him to move away from her.

Instead he adjusted his other arm so that he was leaning on both elbows, his chest flat against hers and looked down at her again, turning careful, slow circles with his thumb against her stomach.

"What are you thinking?"

She whispered and he smiled again.

"Nothing..."

He said quickly and she raised an eyebrow.

He let his hand wander gradually, still tracing those never-ending circles across her abdomen, creeping up – slipping back down – and then up again, gradually pushing her jumper higher until it began to feel tight, and she raised her back just slightly off the bed, arcing herself up against him so that her jumper was no longer held between her body and the mattress and it pulled free, bunching about her chest, his fingers between her ribs, just brushing against the solid barrier of the under wire to her bra and before she had time to stop it, a small groan of anticipation escaped her lips.

He smiled, bent down, kissed her again and now the gentleness of before seeped away and as he dawdled a string of fluttering touches across her chest, beneath her bra she arced her back once again, allowing his hand to slip beneath her, to undo the clasp.

She felt the fabric give, and as she lay back down against the bed she suddenly felt very exposed.

She shivered and he paused, and without saying a word he pulled up the duvet, pulling it up over both of them so that it hung from his back like a tent over her. She smiled, and strained to kiss him again, loving the feel of his lips, the taste of him, the lingering taste of cigarettes that was somehow just so very 'him'.

He looked down at her, still not quite able to comprehend that it was her – Connie Beauchamp – who lay before him, and that his hand was against her, touching her intimately, his fingers moving up beneath the bra that rose easily from her skin whilst he kissed her lips, her neck...

She let her head roll back, the vast curve of her neck before him, and he kissed every inch, tasting the bitter taste of perfume as he touched his tongue to her flesh.

She shivered, murmured a half-breath that caught in her throat as his fingers (still cold), pushed up, encasing her left breast and she pushed up against him so that her back left the mattress and she reached out with an arm to grab hold of the headboard, giving her leverage to push up even further.

He shifted, moved lower across her collar bone, his stubble hard against her skin. She shivered again, although this time it was less to do with the cold, and she let her body relax back into the bed, enjoying the slow trail of hot open-mouthed kisses that caressed her chest and she slipped a hand through his hair, tilting her head back down, watching him...

He glanced up mid-kiss, saw her exhale through parted lips, caught the whisper of a smile, her eyes bottle-green in the lamp-light.

"Are you ok?"

He whispered, finishing off the kiss that lingered at his lips and he raised himself up ever so slightly.

She nodded faintly.

"Are you sure you want to...?"

He let his words tail off and her smile widened.

"Am I sure I want to...?"

She repeated, elongating the last word, raising her eyebrows, toying with him.

"I just thought I'd better...check..."

He watched her smile and she touched a finger to his lips.

"I want to."

She whispered.

More tomorrow. I am having terrible trouble concentrating on writing this week! xxx