Without letting go of her left hand, he turned his lips to kiss her right fingers, a wet and needy kiss. He felt the smooth, spongy texture of her tongue. It electrified him.
He mustn’t go any further. Norman knew from the women of Italy – from Cristina, too – once he passed a certain point, kissing a woman as intriguing as Agnes Limerick, he’d be unable to stop. But a kiss with this girl! Unlike any other he’d ever experienced with a woman, divine providence intervened to bring them together. Passion stirred in his pants. It felt good, rubbing back and forth against his shorts, a hard rock poking out from his boxers, feeling the smooth cotton of his chinos. His shaft grew to full arousal.
He began to thrust his body toward hers. For the first time, he knew she wanted him, too. Her eyes, her mouth, her tongue told him, I want this, here and now. This is your purpose for me, the one thing you can give me that matters. He felt the friction of his erection, a protrusion that now stood straight up between his legs, demanding release. He could not be tamed now.
He buried his lips into hers, his tongue deep inside, a savage ferocity overtaking him. He broke free and breathed hard. He read in her eyes. Take me with you now, Norman.
Norman freed himself andlocked the front door. The bobbing pleasure between his legs – toying with the cotton of his shorts and slacks – excited him like a sadistic lion tamer. He came back and grabbed her by the waist, pulled her into the back office. Once inside, they stripped in nothing flat. He looked at himself, standing straight up. Thirty seconds, tops, that’s all it would take.
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