Forbidden Love
by
Shirley Martin
Combing her fingers through her hair,Lisa tried to hold back the tears, never in a million years willing to let him see her heart was breaking. Later, after he left, she'd cry her heart out, but not now, not in front of him. She released the strands of hair, and silky locks brushed her shoulders and grazed her breasts.
"You have beautiful hair," he murmured. Tentative fingers touched her hair, his gentle stroke as sensuous as a lover's caress.
"You like my hair?" With one quick, sinuous movement, she shook her head, letting the strands cascade past her shoulders and down her back.
"Lisa!"
Within a heartbeat, she found herself enclosed in his arms, his body molded to hers, as if they were part of the same whole. His lips, warm and demanding, claimed hers. Shifting his position, he held her ever closer, his hands playing across her back and down to her hips. He drew away to feather kisses on her cheeks, behind her ears, her forehead, his warm breath fanning her skin.
"My darling!"
This was wonderful, beautiful, everything she'd ever imagined his kiss could be, and so much more. Oh, so much more! To be held in his strong arms, his lips on hers! Drifting in a dreamworld of new sensations, she tightened her arms around him, drawing his mouth to hers again as she returned his kisses with a passion she'd never imagined, no, not in her wildest fantasies.
She raised her hand to run her fingers through his hair, something she'd dreamed of doing for the longest time. Her fingers trailed down to his crisp collar, then up to the nape of his neck, then farther up to his hair again, loving the taste, touch, and smell of him, the very essence of his being, everything that made him the man she loved. Not caring if he'd think her a wanton, she brushed her thigh against his.
"You don't know what you're doing to me!" he gasped.
“It’s the same with me.”
Lisa reveled in his hard body close to hers--such a new, strange feeling, more glorious than anything she'd ever imagined. She loved the tangy scent of his shaving soap, the touch of his clean-shaven cheek next to hers. Her fingers brushed across his back, and she found a strange comfort in the rough texture of his wool suit and the play of his muscles, hard and firm, beneath the pressure of her straying fingers.
Above all, she wished his caresses would go on forever. With an ache that brought her to the edge of despair, she realized her wish could never come true. The tears she'd tried so hard to restrain streamed down her cheeks.
"Don't cry, darling." He kissed her tears, then pressed his mouth to the hollow of her throat. Effortlessly, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the sofa, where he cradled her close to his chest.
"Owen!"
As if snapped back to the moment, Owen raised her from him and eased her aside. "What am I doing!"
Bewildered and hurt, she stared at him as her body and soul cried out for him. Take me in your arms again, she silently cried. Never let me go!
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