BEST FRIEND’S BROTHER

She liked the gentle pressure of his hand. In fact she felt so comfortable that she might even think about resting her head on his shoulder. And why not? They had already agreed that he would be present at the birth- and you couldn’t get more intimate than that.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

Kaleb’s pulse rocketed as he felt her relax against him. It was pitiful! Laughable, really-that such a small crumb of affection should bring him such pleasure. And even more laughable that he should suddenly feel like a complete novice. Nothing is happening, he told himself. All she’s doing is resting her head on your shoulder!

Sasha closed her eyes and felt herself drifting into a place somewhere between wakefulness and sleep. Where sight and sound retreated to a distant place, and where sensation overwhelmed everything else. She could feel the weight of the baby, and its occasional bubbling little movements. She snuggled into the hard contour of Kaleb’s shoulder, and felt the firm flesh and the whispering of silk as his shirt brushed against her cheek. She sighed.

Unable to resist any longer, Kaleb let his thumb brush lightly against the base of her swollen breast, and held his breath while he waited for her reaction. But she just sighed again.

This time the touch of his thumb was more deliberate, and this time the breath which escaped her sounded deliciously dreamy. He grew bolder. Drew slow, light circles round and round the nipple until he felt her moving impatiently beneath him, making a protesting little cry.

“Sasha?” he said softly.

She opened her eyes to find him watching her. “Mmm?”

“Did I wake you?”

“I wasn’t asleep.

“Were you pretending to be?” he asked suddenly.

She felt lazy and comfortable, the blood pulsing through her veins like honey. “Yes. Naughty of me, wasn’t it?”

“Why bother pretending?”

The baby was impeding her ability to shrug. “I suppose I thought that if I pretended, then I could just lie back and enjoy what you were doing. Without having to question whether I should be letting you.”

“Don’t feel guilty,” he urged.

“It’s easy for you to say that. Men don’t seem to have the same hang-ups about sex… as women.” She had very nearly said sex without love.

“Don’t have hang-ups. Just enjoy it.”

“Mmm.” She was keeping her eyes open only with the greatest of concentration. “What’s the matter, Kaleb? I’ve never seen you looking so edgy before.”

Because he had spent days and nights under her roof in a state of near-permanent excitement, while he behaved in the most decent way he knew how. Knowing that he couldn’t-no, mustn’t go near her because she’d made it clear to him that she didn’t want him to. If it had been anyone else he might have tried, but not Sasha. Not after the urgent way they always fell into bed.

It was just that the thought that maybe she’d wanted him to do this to her all along was nearly driving him out of his head with excitement. “I thought you were about to leap up and slap me around the face.”

“I don’t think I could leap anywhere at the moment,” she said drily.

“Oh.” He recognised the husky note in her voice. She wanted him to carry on-he would have staked everything he owned on that. “Well, maybe I should just continue with what I was doing,” he said thickly. “Who knows? It might even send you to sleep.”

“I suppose it might,” she agreed unconvincingly, and she lay back and closed her eyes again.

He was almost frightened to begin, for fear that he would never be able to stop. And he must be able to stop. The slightest hint of resistance or second thoughts on Sasha’s part and he would put an end to it without her having to utter a word.

His whole hand cupped her breast while the thumb began to tease the swollen, tightened center. He watched the unconscious way her body communicated its pleasure to him. Her lips were parted and her breath beginning to quicken. He watched the way her head tipped back, as if its weight was too great a burden for the pale column of her neck and that great heavy rope of hair hanging down her back. He noticed the slow unfurling of her fingers, like petals warming to the sun. And he knew that if her eyes were open the pupils would be huge and black and dilated.

He idly changed the direction of his thumb and heard her purr with pleasure in response, and it was only then that he bent his head and began to kiss her.

“Oh,” she sighed with longing against his mouth. She just couldn’t stop herself. Only a self-deluding fool would claim that she hadn’t wanted him to do this for days. Weeks, even.

He smiled into her lips. “I could kiss you all night.”

Her eyes flickered open. “I might even let you.”

“Really?” he murmured.

“Mmm. Really.” Sasha had thought that he would immediately start removing her clothes, but he didn’t. Instead, his hand went to the band which was tied tightly around her plaited hair, and he pulled it free. Unraveled the emerald velvet ribbon woven into the strands until her hair hung in crude ringlets around her face.

“Shake your head,” he whispered.

She did as he asked and her hair erupted and casaded around her shoulders.

“You’re my fantasy come to life, Sasha. Do you know that?”

No, you’re the fantasy, she thought. You’re my fantasy come to life. And I love you. His hand began to sculpt her body from breast to thigh, over and over again, until she felt weak with wanting. And then he carefully rucked the velvet dress up to her waist, exposing her belly in the tent-sized knickers. She drew her knees up immediately.

“Don’t,” she objected.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t even look at me.”

“But you’re beautiful.”

“No, I’m-”

“Yes,” he contradicted, and traced a lazy line across the drum-tight bump, and it seemed like the most arousing gesture he had ever made. “Big and proud and beautifully ripened.”

She gave up fighting and let him slide his hands round to cup the firm jut of her buttocks. Let him kiss her eyelids, the tip of her nose and the corners of her mouth.