Read The Woman He Loved Before for Free Online

and stared down at me for a moment. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he whispered. He lowered his head, his lips aiming for mine and I closed my eyes, waiting for contact. When his lips did not touch mine, I opened my eyes again. ‘So beautiful,’ he repeated, then kissed the other side of my neck. Each kiss – soft and measured – injected more of him into me. I did not know this feeling, it was so …
raw
. His hands moved down to my shoulders, under the lapels of my coat, pushing it backwards off onto the ground along with my bag. I was still intoxicated by his smell, the closeness of him, and didn’t resist in any way. His hands skimmed down my body, over my ankle-length blue dress.
    ‘Is this OK?’ he whispered against my ear, his breath hot and laboured.
    ‘Yes,’ I managed to push out between my own laboured breaths.
    ‘Do you want me to stop?’ he asked.
    Yes
, I said in my head.
Yes, yes, yes, stop
.
Please stop
. I hardlyknew the man. But he seemed to know me intimately: he knew where to touch, where to kiss, how to fill up my senses. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this but … ‘No. Don’t stop,’ I whispered. ‘Don’t stop.’
    ‘I have to taste you,’ he said, pulling away. His dark emerald eyes searched mine for a few seconds, looking for protest. ‘I have to taste you,’ he repeated, then he was on his knees, lifting my dress, tugging down my black knickers until they were around my ankles. Automatically, I stepped out of them and he immediately pushed my legs further apart. First it was his fingers – finding, feeling, filling; then his tongue – touching, tasting, teasing.
    Within seconds I was whimpering; my knees trembling, about to give way; my body quivering, arching towards him as I craved more and more and more until liquid dynamite was exploding in my veins and I was clutching onto the wall, head thrown back, as moan after moan after moan of pleasure gushed out of me.
    My mind still reeling, as he came to full height again, he took my hand, led me across the short gap to the mirror opposite then stepped behind me. ‘See how beautiful you are?’ he whispered in my ear. ‘See?’
    I glanced in the mirror, not paying attention to me, instead concentrating on him, how he had been transformed from the relaxed man I’d had dinner with to the man with this intensity and determination in his eyes.
    ‘I want to fuck you,’ he said into my hair. ‘Can I fuck you?’
    ‘Yes,’ I whispered. ‘Yes.’
    I lowered my gaze from the mirror to the box of tissues on the table in front of me, listening to the jingle of his belt, the undoing of his top button, the opening of his zip, the lowering of his trousers, the crackling of a condom packet. Then his hand was gently urging me forwards until I was leaning on the table, and he was hitching my dress up, opening my legs, moving close … And suddenly he was a part of me. His body followed where his scent had been. He curled his body against mine, his groans muted against my neck.
    My eyes went up to the mirror again, to see his face, to see if it was for him what it was for me, but my gaze snagged on my reflection.
    I was another person.
    My hair was out of place and unruly, my body was bending forwards to allow a man to plough into me, my face was contorted with pleasure, my eyes were filled with an animalistic look. I was wild, wonton, uncontrolled. This person in the mirror was not Libby Rabvena. She was little more than an untamed beast. Sex had not done this to me.
He
had done this to me. And I had let him. I had
wanted
him to.
    I immediately closed my eyes, scared to keep on staring in case that was the only reflection I would see of myself every time I looked in any mirror.
    His movements became harder and he pulled away, standing up to grab tightly onto my hips as his urgency increased, his moans mixing with mine, both of us growing louder and louder until he cried out, a second or two before my cry, and we both became frozen as our