Betrayed. Part 9

CHAPTER EIGHT.

They had spent the evening at a disco, Olivia remembered now, held in the common-room downstairs, and Matthew had been forced to spend his time watching her dancing with one after another of his fellow students. He hadn't wanted to go to the disco in the first place, but for once Mac had interfered, and told him that Olivia deserved some fun.

'You can't expect her to sit in every evening, holding your hand,' he told his friend reprovingly. 'h.e.l.l, you wouldn't like it, would you?'

'OK. We'll go,' Matthew retorted, with an edge to his voice, and Mac had winked at Olivia as he left them.

Of course, Olivia said she didn't really want to go either, but Matthew decided, somewhat tersely, that Mac was right. 'I don't suppose it is much fun for you, spending Sat.u.r.day nights watching television,' he declared, pushing himself up from his chair. He lent her his portable television at weekends, and they generally watched it together. 'I'll go and get changed,' he added.

'I'll knock on your door in about an hour.'

Olivia had to agree, even though sitting watching television with Matthew was just as enjoyable for her as it was for him, in his present state of disability. So long as they were alone together, she was content, and the idea of spending the evening with a lot of other people wasn't all that appealing.

Still, Matthew had made up his mind, and to please him she changed into a new pair of jeans, and a round-necked cream sweater. With the gold chain Matthew had bought her for her seventeenth birthday around her neck, she knew she looked good, and she hoped she wouldn't let him down in front of his friends.

But, in the event, she proved to be too popular, and once Mac had convinced everyone that Matthew wasn't going to be selfish she danced every dance. Not that Matthew was neglected.

A steady stream of girls shared his corner of the common-room, but when the disco was over they were both distinctly cool with one another.

As usual, Matthew escorted her to the guest-room, but when Olivia asked him if he wanted to come in he shook his head. 'I'm sure you're too tired,' he replied tersely, his grey eyes chilling in their detachment, and Olivia's temper flared.

'Don't you mean you are?' she retorted, tossing her head, and the single plait in which she had confined her hair spilled its ribbon on to the floor.

'What's that supposed to mean?' Matthew bent to pick up the ribbon with an effort, and, watching his struggle to rescue the piece of blue satin, Olivia's anger dissipated.

'Nothing,' she said huskily, and, acting purely on impulse, she ran her hand over the muscled curve of his b.u.t.tocks.

'Christ, Liv!' Matthew straightened from his stooped position red-faced, and then, meeting her appealing gaze, his eyes darkened. 'What are you trying to do to me?'

Olivia shook her head. 'I know what you do to me,' she answered, taking his hand and drawing him into the room. She closed the door behind him, and dropped the latch. 'Oh, come here, you big baby! Do you honestly think I enjoyed dancing with all those other men tonight?'

'You looked as if you did,' said Matthew unevenly, his mouth rubbing sensuously against hers.

'And what about you?' Olivia protested. 'You weren't feeling any pain, judging by the amount of attention you were attracting!'

'Jealous?'

'Hmm.' Olivia wound her arms around his neck. 'Wouldn't you be?'

'Well, it's not necessary,' he a.s.sured her thickly, his hand invading the neckline of her sweater. 'I don't want anyone else.'

'Nor do I,' murmured Olivia, bringing down one hand and loosening the b.u.t.tons that held the knitted sides of the sweater together. Her tongue circled her lips. 'Let me take this off.'

'No.' Matthew shook his head. 'I don't think that would be a good idea.' 'Well, I do.'

'Well, I don't,' said Matthew, more harshly, releasing her, and moving awkwardly away. 'Do we have anything to drink in here?

Like c.o.ke, for example?'

Although he still had the plaster on his ankle, Matthew could walk without crutches now, and in a week or so the plaster would be coming off. Just in time for Christmas, he had said, with some relief, but now Olivia was not so sure. She had got to like spending her weekends in London. Once he was able to drive himself again, he'd come down to Hampshire, and spend his nights at Rycroft.

Now she shrugged, and said she didn't have any c.o.ke. 'You'll just have to get one of your slaves to get you some from the machine downstairs,' she declared, playing with the two b.u.t.tons of her sweater she had unfastened. 'I'm going to bed. As you said, I am tired.'

Matthew sighed. 'Liv----'

'What?'

She turned to face him, her hands on her hips, her expression unforgiving, and Matthew gazed at her despairingly. 'You're not the only one who has feelings, you know,' he muttered, grasping her elbows and propelling her now resisting body towards him.

'And stop pretending you don't know the way I feel about you.

I've told you often enough, G.o.d knows! What do I have to do to prove it? Pin a notice on my chest, or what?'

Olivia's resistance dissolved. 'You could"make love to me,'

she whispered, her fingers sliding along the lapels of his sports jacket, and with a groan of submission Matthew hauled her into his arms.

His mouth on hers was savage and unrestrained, and very briefly Olivia was afraid of what she had unleashed. But then the hungry pressure of his lips, and the wet invasion of his tongue, sent her own senses spinning. It was what she had wanted, after all. Matthew uncontrolled, and at the mercy of his senses.

Her hands slid beneath his jacket, sliding it from his shoulders, and it fell unheeded to the floor. His shirt soon followed, and for the first time she spread her palms against his chest. She found his small nipples with her tongue, and exulted in the power she had over his body. There was something infinitely satisfying in feeling her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his hair-coa.r.s.ened flesh, and she traced the line of body hair that ran down below his belt.

But when her hands went to his belt, to unfasten the buckle, Matthew's hand stilled hers. 'I'll do it,' he said, looking down at the plaster cast with some impatience. 'This"this takes a bit of time. And"well, Mac usually helps me with it.'

'I'll help you,' said Olivia huskily, urging him back towards the bed. 'Go on. Let me. I like the idea of taking your clothes off.'

Matthew's breathing was uneven. 'Liv----' he protested, but when the backs of his knees b.u.mped into the bed he lost his balance, and sat down rather unexpectedly. And Olivia took the opportunity to kneel down beside him, and urge him back against the cushions, finding his mouth with hers, as her hand probed the belt. But she was not unaware of the hard pressure that swelled against his zipper, or her own lack of experience when she'd succeeded in removing his clothes.

But for the moment she preferred not to look as she loosened the buckle, and unzipped his jeans. She wasn't at all sure if he was wearing anything under his jeans, and she preferred to feel, rather than look. It was immature, she knew, but she'd never seen a man naked before. And while the prospect might sound exciting, it was also rather daunting.

However, beneath the jeans, her hands brushed against silk, and she realised he was wearing underpants. Thank goodness, she thought, having confidence enough now to ease the jeans down over his hips. Though she still averted her eyes from the rampant signs of his masculinity, and a tremor of uncertainty slid along her spine.

In fact, the jeans came off more easily than she had expected.

They had been slit around the ankle, to allow access for the cast, and it was a simple matter to pull off the one boot he was wearing, and peel the jeans down his legs. Or perhaps, it just seemed easier than she had expected, she thought. Perhaps she was already regretting the impulse to take control.

But, as if guessing how she was feeling, Matthew sat up as she was lingering over folding his jeans and placing them neatly on the floor beside the bed. 'Come here,' he said, lifting her up on to the quilt beside him, and rolling over so that his weight was now imprisoning her to the bed. 'I didn't realise you were so experienced,' he added huskily, burying his head between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and she shuddered beneath him.

'I'm not,' she confessed, and she felt his teeth brush her skin as he uttered a soft laugh.

'I'd never have guessed,' he said teasingly, but then his humour disappeared as his mouth found hers again.

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were crushed against his chest, and his leg eased its way between hers. It made it easier for him to cup the swelling mound of her womanhood, and she twisted against him as he touched her there. But her clothes were still an intolerable barrier, and, sensing the needs she herself hardly understood, Matthew's hand moved to the b.u.t.ton of her jeans.

'Help me,' he breathed, against her lips, and she obediently lifted her hips, so that he could ease the denim down over her hips.

Now, only the sc.r.a.p of cotton and lace that formed her underwear was between her and his eyes, and Olivia trembled.

Matthew was looking at her with a frankly sensual expression in his eyes, and although she wanted to be cool and sophisticated she didn't know how.

Then, he bent his head and trailed a line of kisses from the curve of her breast, across her flat abdomen, to the dusky hollow of her navel. His lips were on a level with the ribbon-trimmed elastic of the panties now, but when he would have brushed them aside Olivia stopped him.

'No, Matthew,' she said, clutching a handful of his hair, and he looked up at her through lazy-lidded eyes.

'Why not?' he asked, taking the elastic between his teeth, and tugging very gently. 'You're beautiful, and I want to see you. All of you. You're not going to stop me now, are you?'

Olivia breathed unevenly. 'I"well, could we turn out the light first?' she ventured, indicating the lamp on the table beside the bed, but Matthew only pulled a wry face.

'I said I wanted to see you,' he reminded her softly, his thumbs hooking into the ribbon-trimmed band, and easing them down, until his lips brushed the cl.u.s.ter of gold curls that sprang out from their confinement. 'Mmm, you are delicious,' he told her, as she felt herself weaken. 'Come on, baby. I'll let you do the same for me.'

Olivia swallowed. The muscles on the insides of her thighs were quivering, but in spite of her fears she wanted to do what he said. 'I"all right,' she said huskily, arching up so that he could remove the offending item. Then, as he buried his face between her thighs, she uttered a protesting cry. 'Matthew"you shouldn't!'

'Why shouldn't I?' he asked, lifting his head and looking at her. 'I love you, and I want to make love with you. But I want you to want me, too.'

Olivia licked her lips. 'I"do,' she protested, and with a half-regretful sigh Matthew moved over her again.

'OK,' he said, drawing her hands to his body. 'But I'm rather over-dressed. Do you want to help me?'

Olivia's lips parted apprehensively, but she didn't draw away when he tucked her fingers into the waistband of his trunks. With grim determination, she peeled them down over his taut b.u.t.tocks, and gasped when his taut manhood thrust into her hands.

Matthew shuddered then, and, kicking off the trunks, he lowered his lips to hers. His tongue plunged between her teeth, hungry and aggressive, and as his tongue ravished her mouth she felt the velvet heat of his desire nudging the moist junction between her legs. It felt so big and powerful, throbbing, it seemed, with a life of its own. It didn't seem possible that she could absorb him, and her muscles tensed automatically when he pressed against her.

'Relax,' he breathed against her mouth, his hand taking the place of his manhood, and creating a trembling awareness of its own. 'You are ready for me, love. I can feel it. Just let me show you how it can be.'

She rose up against his probing fingers, her legs splaying helplessly as he brought her to a thrilling awareness of what he wanted from her. Waves of sensation, that came up from her thighs and swept through every nerve in her body, caused her to clutch his shoulders, and beg him to continue. Her breathing became choked and shallow, and she was no longer conscious of anything but the demanding needs he was arousing. She arched towards a fulfilment she had not even known existed, and when it came her senses splintered into a million shattering pieces.

And then, as the blinding tide of pleasure ebbed, Matthew gently but firmly thrust himself inside her, and she caught her breath in dismay as a short sharp pain tore up into her stomach.

The delight she had been feeling, the lazy sense of lethargy that had followed his manipulation of her body, was replaced by an aching discomfort, and tears of resentment filled her eyes.

However, Matthew was beyond the point when he could consider her feelings before his own. His own needs had taken precedence at last, and although she bucked against him, he had to find his own release. Shaking his head, he withdrew part-way, only to thrust once, twice, against her, and then withdrew completely, shuddering to his own climax outside her body.

For a few moments, Olivia was too shocked to do anything.

It had all been so different from what she had expected, and Matthew's withdrawal had been the final humiliation. So much fuss over so little, she thought, edging to the side of the bed.

Matthew was still lying with his face hidden within the curve of his arm, and she hoped she could reach her clothes before he realised what she was doing.

But, as she inched away, he grabbed her. 'Don't go, for goodness' sake,' he muttered, forcing himself up on to one elbow and looking down at her. 'I'm sorry about that, but I waited too long, and I couldn't wait any longer.'

Olivia sniffed. 'It doesn't matter----'

'It does matter.' Matthew smoothed a damp tendril of hair back from her forehead. During their love-making, her hair had come loose from its braid, and now it tumbled about her shoulders, soft and appealing. 'I wanted to make it as good for you as it was for me, but"well, I guess I blew it.'

'It doesn't matter,' said Olivia again, turning her head away.

'I"um"oughtn't you to be going? It's getting late.'

Matthew sighed. 'Do you want me to go?'

'Do I----?' Olivia turned back to look at him. 'What do you mean?'

'I mean"I'd like to stay,' said Matthew huskily. 'Oh, Liv, don't look at me like that. I promise I'll make it good for you. At least, give me the chance to try.'

Olivia stared at him. 'W"when?'

Matthew's mouth twisted. 'Now?'

'Now?' Olivia was shocked again. She looked down his body, and then coloured appealingly. 'But"I thought----'

'Yes? What did you think?' Matthew arched a dark eyebrow.

Olivia shook her head. 'I just thought"I mean" can you?

'Mmm.' Matthew brushed her shoulder with his lips. 'If you'll let me.'

Olivia hesitated. 'Will"will you"do what you did before?'

Matthew grimaced. 'I hope not.'

Olivia bit her lip. 'I meant----'

'I know what you meant,' he told her huskily. He caressed the tip of her breast with his tongue. 'And this time, you won't be disappointed.'

Nevertheless, she was apprehensive when Matthew moved between her thighs, but this time when he eased his way into her there was no pain. Just an incredible feeling of fullness, that made her draw up her knees so that he could bury himself inside her.

Matthew was patient this time, letting her body set the pace, and building on her increasing awareness of her own needs.

Amazingly, she felt her muscles responding when he began to move, contracting and expanding around him, enclosing him within her silken sheath, until Matthew caught his breath at the pleasure she was giving him.

'You are incredible,' he told her unsteadily, his thumbs finding the hard peaks of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as they surged against his hands.

Dipping his head, he laved the taut areola with his tongue, and the sensations he created only added to the excitement he was arousing within her.

But gradually, his pace quickened. The responsive pressure of her body was driving him to thrust himself deeper and deeper into that tight honeycomb, and the desire he was initiating was like a throbbing pulse inside her. It wasn't like before, when he had brought her trembling limbs to that initial climax. This time, she was beginning to think she would go mad with need of him when the convulsive shudders engulfed her. She held on to him, as the waves of pleasure shook her to the core, and when Matthew would have withdrawn again she wrapped her legs about him. Trapped within the silken curve of her thighs, he jerked uncontrollably against her. And then, the flooding heat of his seed spurted inside her, and, unable to prevent the inevitable, he slumped across her.

And now, Olivia felt no desire to leave him, or to have him leave her. On the contrary, she felt extraordinarily content; weak and lethargic, but totally fulfilled. They had made love, she thought, amazed at her own lack of inhibition. She had him"all of him"and she would never let him go.

Of course, Matthew was less enthusiastic when he eventually dragged himself away from her. 'That was crazy,' he said, his meaning unmistakable. 'You could get pregnant!' He grimaced.

'And then what would your father say?'

'I don't care.' Olivia was totally unrepentant. 'I'd like to have your baby. I'd like to have lots of babies,' she told him softly, 'if that's the way we go about it.'

Matthew had to laugh at that, but afterwards he insisted that they took precautions. 'I want you to have my children, too,' he said. 'But not yet. Not until I finish university, and can get a job.