"Catherine, wait." He caught her hand, moving to stretch out beside her, propped on his elbow. She shook her head and he smiled. "I know, but listen…"

He traced slow circles on her bared belly with his index finger. "If we don't stop now, we may not be able to stop…"

"But David…don't you…you don't want me?" Her voice was very small.

He groaned, dropping his forehead to touch hers. "You have no idea how much, girl, and how long… no idea!" He closed his eyed and drew a deep, shaky breath. "Bloody hell! Do you know the amount of self-restraint I have to maintain around you? Your flashing eyes, your bouncing little curls, the curve of your neck, your cheeky smile, the way you pout and fight and spit…my god, you are just like a little cat sometimes, all sleek and purring."

She was blushing now, still shaking her head. "I don't understand. So you do want me?"

"Want you?" He groaned again, pressing his hips against her thigh, and she could feel him through his jeans, a clear pronouncement. "Do you feel that?

That's all you, Catherine. Since the very first day you walked into my flat…

bending over to get another biscuit with your knickers showing under your skirt…

She blushed more, her face on fire. "But listen to me," he continued. "I'm your tutor, and as such, I'm in a position of a bit of responsibility here. One of us has to keep our wits about us… while we still can."

"So you don't want to… do anything?" The look of disappointment on her face must have been clear.

"Don't be daft, girl," he teased, kissing her again, softly now, a sweet apology. "Of course I want to. But I want you to be clear, and I want to be clear, before we get carried away. I don't know that you are used to having a man, and I am most definitely not some high school boy who will simply fumble with your bra strap and settle for sloppy wet kisses." His hand rested fully open and warm at her navel. The heat was incredible.