‘Did you enjoy dancing?’ he asked.
‘Very much,’ she said, ‘but not as much as our kiss.’
Without another word she stood and turned. She put in the bath plug and added oils as if she was making a very complicated recipe, and Mikael tried to concentrate on shaving as she started to undress.
Off came the red dress.
Then she slipped off her shoes.
The razor hovered at a safe distance as Layla took off her bra and he saw her pert breasts and dark swollen nipples.
Her panties were next, and Mikael rinsed his face for a very long time. But even with his eyes closed all he could see was the silky straight triangle of hair.
He checked in again with his self-control as Layla spoke.
‘Can you wash me again?’
‘I think you can do that yourself.’
‘I am sure that I can,’ she said, ‘but I like it when you do it.’
She did.
She wanted to be kissed by him again and she wanted the feel of his arms and the touch of his naked skin. Mikael turned around and she looked at him, wanted to see more of him.
‘Can you remove your shirt?’
He did, and he was more beautiful than he had been asleep on the sofa because now he was awake, and she saw the stretch of muscles as he removed it. Her eyes did not guiltily jerk upwards from the snake of ebony hair this time; instead they moved down, and it was very clear that what she was feeling was matched by Mikael.
‘You could take the rest of your clothes off,’ she invited.
‘I don’t think so,’ Mikael said, because someone had to stay in control here and he guessed it would have to be him.
‘I ache from dancing.’
‘Ache no more,’ he said, kneeling down.
Mikael washed her far more slowly than Jamila did. First he washed her neck and shoulders, and Layla closed her eyes in bliss at the feel of his fingers soaping her and the sound of him breathing.
Then he washed her arms, and it tickled a bit as he lifted one and soaped her. And then her breath caught as his hand soaped her breasts, one at a time and very slowly. Layla could feel her aching nipples and she looked down to where they were swollen and stretched. Her head was so heavy she rested it on his shoulder and started to kiss his neck.
His neck tasted wonderful, almost as nice as his mouth, and whatever he was doing with her breasts had her hungry to taste him some more.
‘Move your mouth lower,’ Mikael warned. ‘If I have to face your brother it’s going to be hard enough looking him in the eye without—’
He didn’t finish, and Layla didn’t really get what he meant, but as she pulled back she saw the red mark her mouth had made. She moved her deep kisses to his shoulder, licking, sucking and relishing the feel of her wet naked skin against his.
Mikael massaged her aching calves, and then his hand moved between her thighs.
‘Jamila hands me a cloth for down there,’ Layla said.
‘Do you want a cloth?’
‘No,’ she said, but she was very honest as his fingers explored her intimate lips. ‘Just touch me on the outside, though. I will be examined when I return.’
Mikael hated the thought of her being examined but said nothing.
With his free hand he lifted her mouth from his neck and kissed her as he had wanted to since the verdict had come in.
Layla felt the fierce passion of his mouth, the untamed desire of his tongue, even as his fingers stayed gentle. His tongue did to her mouth what she wanted his fingers to do. She was clinging onto his head, squeezing his hand with her thighs, urging him as he resisted. He worked her clitoris and her mouth, holding on himself as he felt her mounting tension.
‘Mikael—’ She pulled her lips back in panic, but he smothered her protests with his mouth, and she held onto his shoulders as something rippled through her, warmer than the water she bathed in and yet it made her shiver. Her thighs clamped around his hand and still he stroked her—and a shocked Layla came for the first time to his hand as Mikael fought to stay gentle.