They ordered a fancy meal, but Royce noted that neither of them seemed to have much of an appetite once the food arrived. So his gutsy Catherine was nervous, too. Royce found that endearing, and he was charmed by her all the more.
What they really needed to get things rolling, Royce decided when he set the food tray outside their door, was the front seat of a car. The thought produced a wide grin, one he suspected would have made the Cheshire cat proud.
"You're smiling," Catherine said when he returned. "What's so amusing?"
"Us. Come here, woman, I'm tired of pussyfooting around this. I want to make love to you, and I'm not waiting any longer." He held his arms open to her, and she walked toward him, slipping tidily into his embrace. They fit together perfectly. Royce believed they had been created for each other. For a cure for all the lonely, barren years he'd spent alone. Years she'd spent alone.
He kissed her once gently and felt her breath, hot and fiery, against his throat. One kiss and Royce was suddenly as weak as a newborn kitten. It didn't help matters any to have her snuggle against him, her skin silky and warm.
Royce's hands were trembling as he reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. Catherine straightened and raised her arms so he could lift the silky garment over her head. It slipped right off, and she rewarded him for his efforts by trailing her lips over the corded muscles of his neck and shoulders, her tongue slipping over the hollow of his throat.
Royce closed his eyes to the deluge of feelings. His heart started to pound, but that wasn't his only reaction. His whole body had started throbbing. He couldn't remove his clothes fast enough. Once his shirt was free of his waistband, Catherine took over for him, slowly, too slowly to suit him, unfastening the buttons one by one. She sighed softly and fanned her hands across his chest, her nails innocently tugging against the hairs of his chest like a kitten yearning for attention.
"Oh, Royce... Kiss me, please kiss me."
He caught his breath and then did as she asked, spreading hot kisses across her delicate shoulders, then up the side of her exquisite neck until their mouths met in a burst of spontaneous combustion that was so fierce it threatened to consume them both.
Her tongue shyly met his, and he groaned, the sound rough and masculine to his own ears. Catherine moaned, too, and it was the most sensual, erotic whimper Royce had ever heard. He had to touch her, had to feel for himself her excitement, had to taste it and know she wanted him as desperately as he hungered for her.
His hands massaged her back, and he was gratified to realize she'd removed her bra. She leaned into him, absorbing what little strength he possessed, and looped her arms around his neck. Royce's hands cupped her breasts. They were soft and full, so mar-velously lush and round. The nipples instantly pearled, and the feel of them puckering, hardening, then scraping against his palms as she moved against him sent a wave of molten sensation over him.
Royce raised his head and judged the distance to the bed. Lifting her into his arms, Royce stalked across the carpet like a warrior hauling his conquest into the middle of camp.
He pressed Catherine onto the mattress and then joined her, being sure he didn't suffocate her with his weight.
He kissed her again and again, so many times he lost count, so many times that she melted against him, her eyes pleading with him for the completion they both sought.
Royce couldn't wait another moment, another second. His hands caught the sides of her lace panties and dragged them down her silken legs. He rolled aside long enough to glide open the zipper of his slacks and ease them over his own hips.
Once they were both free of restrictive clothing, he knelt over her. Her eyes were golden, hot with need. Royce nearly groaned just looking at her, just feeling the heat radiating from her smooth ivory skin.
She raised her hand to his face, her fingertips grazing his cheekbone. "Love me," she whispered. "Just love me."
Her words, her touch were all the inducement Royce needed. He positioned himself over her, using his thighs to part hers. She opened to him without reserve, without restraint.
By all that was holy, Royce didn't know where he found the strength to go slowly, to linger, prolonging the moment. Her eyes held his as he pushed forward, gliding the throbbing, aching staff of his manhood into her.
If he were ever going to die from pleasure, it would have been at that moment. Catherine was ready for him, waiting for him, so sweet and hot and moist, Royce knew in a heartbeat that he dare not move.
His eyes returned to hers, which were half-closed as she, too, drank in the exquisite tumult. After giving her a moment to adjust to him, Royce continued easing himself into her until she had taken in all of him.
Breathing hard, Catherine raised her knees and bucked beneath him. Royce groaned aloud as a flash of white-hot pleasure shot through him. Unable to endure much more, he pushed forward and was nearly consumed with the second wave of moist, hot bliss. When his eyes connected with Catherine, he noted that she was biting hard into her lower lip.
"I'm hurting you?" He didn't know if her reaction was one of pleasure or pain.
"No...oh, no," she whispered. "I never knew anything could feel this good."
"This is only the beginning," he promised. He closed his eyes in order to savor every sensation, drink in every fiery aspect of their lovemaking.
He honestly meant to go slow. He had to, he felt, in order to fully appreciate the magic between them. But once he started to rotate his hips, he was lost. Lost in pleasure. Lost in the storm, but he wasn't alone. Catherine clung to him, answering each bold thrust with one of her own.
It was a storm. One of need. One of fury and frenzy. It came on quickly, with such intensity that Royce was pitched from one world to another until he realized there was no slowing down, no going back. No stopping. Not for heaven, not for hell. For pain or for pleasure.
His climax came as a searing completion, far too quickly to suit Royce. He didn't want it to end, not now. Not so soon.
Catherine's labored breathing matched his own, and the sound of it was the only thing that shattered the silence as they both burned in the wake of the sweetest tempest Royce had ever known.
Royce woke around three to the sounds of Catherine singing. She was taking a shower. In the middle of the night no less.