‘Now, about that pot-belly of yours,’ she murmured, letting her fingers continue their work. ‘It doesn’t feel very pot to me.’

‘I don’t keep it precisely there,’ he said in a tense voice.

‘You want me to move?’

‘No, just…keep doing…what you’re doing.’

She did as he wished, realising that their previous loving had barely taken the edge off his passion and he was once more in a state of heated arousal. He was hard and hot in her palm, and she indulged herself in pleasure until, at the precise moment she intended, he lost control and tossed her onto her back.

Her own control was fast vanishing. She was eager for him to move over her and repeat the experience that had been so thrilling the first time. She reached for him, barely able to contain herself, clasping him so firmly that they were united in an instant.

At the feel of him inside her she gave a shout of pleasure that mingled with his and began to move strongly, urgently, wrapping her legs around him and holding him close. She wanted to keep him like that always.

Afterwards they slept in each other’s arms for a couple of hours and awoke hungry. She went into the kitchen, refusing his offer to make the food himself.

‘I know where everything is,’ she assured him.

‘Yes, you just proved that,’ he murmured.

‘Don’t be vulgar.’ She chuckled, aiming a mock punch at him.

But she misjudged the distance and caught him across the face, making him yell more in surprise than pain.

‘Darling, darling, I’m sorry,’ she cried, kissing him fiercely. ‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘You’re a violent woman,’ he complained.

‘No, just a blind one. You’ll be covered in bruises in no time.’

‘How can you talk like that?’

‘Because it’s true. You should escape me now, while you still can!’

‘I didn’t mean that. I meant the other thing.’