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“Don’t move your hands or I’ll have to start all over again,” he warned, as his teeth found my hipbone, nipping and then gently soothing the spot with his tongue, kissing across my lower belly to nibble and tease my other hip.

His fingers slid over my breasts, my nipples, flicking and twisting and strumming them until I was squirming, moaning and almost crying from the painful pleasure.

He was torturing me.

And then his hot mouth descended on my inner thigh, his hands leaving my aching breasts and pressing my knees wider. He gazed at my glistening pussy. It contracted so strongly he moaned.

“So fucking perfect,” he hissed, before touching his tongue to my leg, just inside my knee and running it up my thigh.

Closer.

Closer.

And then he stopped. I watched in thwarted need as he repeated the process, licking up from my other knee. And up. And up. And skipping the part that was now weeping for his tongue. Over and over he continued this path.

“Joel!” I begged, rocking my hips. “Stop torturing me!”

His breathy laugh made my pussy squeeze once more.

“I’m not torturing you,” he murmured, his hands sliding up my inner thighs as he stared intently at my pussy. “I’m learning you.”

And then his nose nuzzled the top of my slit. I bucked under him, but his hands pressed my hips down into the mattress, holding me firmly in position.

A tiny flick of his tongue, just where I needed it, made me cry out so loudly I was sure that people in the hotel foyer would hear.

He flicked and teased, then swept his tongue away from my swollen, throbbing clit, until I was shaking with need. And then back again and away. Back and away.

The ache was building inside me with each flick, and receding when he stopped. Then when he returned the sensations were more violent than before. Fucking torture.

My breath was coming in short, staccato pants and my legs were shuddering with every swipe of his tongue.

And then he took one hand off my belly, and seconds later I felt the longed for thrust of fingers inside me.

I dissolved into a screaming, panting, shuddering mess.

He wrung every cry from me, lapping at my quivering flesh and lazily thrusting his fingers as I came down from the high he’d just taken me to.

Disobeying his orders, I reached down, trying to push his head away from my over-sensitised clit.

He resisted, massaging every last shudder from me with his talented tongue.

“Joel!” I gasped.

He finally released me, kissing his way slowly, sensuously back up my body.

“That was … mind blowing!” he murmured with feeling, grinning like a cat that got the cream. Quite literally.

“You’re telling me,” I replied breathlessly, licking my lips and eyeing his throbbing dick. “But now, it’s my turn.”

I lost count of how many times we had sex that night. We would fuck until we were both satisfied, and then we’d nap for a little while, just to start all over again.

What had surprised me the most about the night was that after that first hot bang just inside the front door, he’d been incredibly tender with me.

The gentle kisses he’d dropped on my lips, my shoulders, my breasts, my belly, and lower …

The way he had stared at my face every time I climaxed, his expression devouring me.

He’d whispered sweet little things in my ear in between, telling me how beautiful I was, how perfect it felt to be inside me.

I was pleasantly numb between my legs by the time he came in me for the last time, as the grey British sunlight was making its watery way in through the blinds.

Joel didn’t pull out straight away. He lay inside me, brushing a wayward strand of hair off my face.

I closed my eyes for a moment – his gaze was too intense for me.

It made me want to say things to him that I knew I just couldn’t.

“I’m impressed, Melanie Black. That was quite a night.”

I opened my eyes – he was still looking down at me. I grinned sheepishly at him. “Well, I do remember you offering to break me in once.”

He leaned down and pressed his nose against mine. “And here I was, stupidly thinking I was just teasing. ”

“You only ever tease,” I responded, not being able to hide the frustration from my tone.

“Would you like me to be serious with you?” he asked me, his voice smouldering.

“Maybe, sometimes,” I managed shyly.

Joel smirked at me. “Okay, seriously, last night was pretty close to the best night of my life.”

While that was incredibly flattering, it was making it even harder not to say those things that I didn’t want to say … couldn’t say to him.

“We’d better get moving – we’re flying home this afternoon,” I said instead.

With a sigh Joel moved off me. I felt suddenly self-conscious about being naked around him, but not because I didn’t want him looking at me.

He’d just spent the whole night exploring my body more thoroughly than anyone ever had before.

But it was more than just physical nakedness; I felt like he’d exposed things inside me that I wasn’t ready to be fully aware of.

I escaped to my bedroom and took a shower, got dressed and stuffed everything into my suitcase. When I couldn’t find any other excuse to hide away in there, I steeled myself and joined him in the kitchen.

Joel was cooking a vegetable omelette. It smelt great.

I felt almost timid as I poured myself a glass of juice.

I fought an insane urge to kiss him as he smiled at me from the fry pan, to run my hands around his waist and rest my head against his back.

What held me back was the fact that he didn’t seem to be having any uncontrollable urges to touch me.

I couldn’t handle the silence any longer.

“Okay, so what do we do now?” I asked in my most matter-of-fact tone. Joel served the breakfast out onto two plates and carried them to the table. I followed.

“Well?” I prompted. Joel sat down and picked up his cutlery, taking a bite.

I was starting to feel silly for asking when he replied, “We go home, and we start working towards the US tour. ”

I shook my head. “You know what I mean! This isn’t going to … change things, is it?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Mel, nothing has to change if you don’t want it to.”

I felt my brow furrow in confusion. “If I don’t want it to,” I repeated. Joel fixed his blue eyes on me.

“ Do you want things to change?” he asked. I bit my lip, not sure how to answer that.

“Well, no … I suppose not,” I replied. As soon as the words left my mouth, I wished they hadn’t. I didn’t want to decide now when I was so confused. And so tainted by the incredible night of sex we’d just shared.

But it was too late. Joel shrugged, his eyes flicking away from mine and off into the distance. “Great! No change then.”

I leapt in headfirst. “But, Joel, everything’s changed now! We can’t just pretend that last night never happened! I don’t want to pretend it never happened. What if I want to do it again?”

What if I want to do it every night for the rest of my life? No, I couldn’t say that to him! Bad, terrible idea, Mel!

Joel smiled at me, that smile that he used when he wanted someone to melt for him. But it was too late for that with me – I was only beginning to feel the first inkling of just how too late it was.

“Stinky, if you ever want to do that again, you just let me know, and if I’m free, I’ll be there.”

I grunted. I really didn’t like the way there was an if involved. But really, what had I expected?

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Yeah, well, it was fun. I guess if I’m bored some time, I might take you up on that.”

The smile slipped from Joel’s face just a tad. Clearly that hadn’t been what he wanted to hear. Well, it was give and take. If he wasn’t prepared to give something more to me than just a fuck, then I wasn’t prepared to give him my body.

Woah, wait a second! What did I want from Joel? My brain was too scrambled to answer that.

I remembered a time when he’d told me that all good relationships needed good sex, and I’d thought that if sex was all you had, then how could you possibly have a meaningful relationship?

But over the last few months I had built more with Joel than just a teasing relationship and one night of the greatest sex of my life. Hadn’t I? There had been times when he’d been sweet, and protective, and kind, in between the teasing. He always had my back. He made me laugh.

But if he wasn’t going to put his heart on the line, there was no way I was going to.