Gently, Elliot sat me down on the ground. With wondering eyes, I looked around the huge, dark space. As I watched, lights came on as if by magic, banishing the darkness and revealing an oasis of sleek, gleaming elegance worthy of a king. Mirrored floors, walls of dark wood and polished steel, lilies blooming in sleek vases along the walls... it was like a dream, or a modern fairytale.

Lowering himself to my height and gripping my shoulders, Elliot gazed into my eyes.

"Wait here."

There was a dark fire burning in his eyes that was not to be denied. I nodded, and he turned, vanishing into the next room. Moments later, the soft notes of strings playing from the next room drifted towards me. For a moment I wondered whether he had an orchestra hidden away there. I wouldn't have put it past him. But a moment later, when he emerged with a remote in his hands, I knew better.

Dropping the remote onto a chaise longue, he beckoned to me.

"Come."

My heart leapt at the barely restrained need in his voice. I went without hesitation. As I stepped closer, the notes of the music enveloped me. It was a hauntingly beautiful piece, happy and sad, slow and yet always striving to go faster, further, higher, to fly among the stars.

"What is it?" I asked.

He pulled me into a room, where the first thing that came to my attention was a huge bed with white sheets.

"Reinecke's Harp Concerto in E minor."

"Harp? I don't hear a harp."

"Have patience." Laying me down on the bed, he leaned down towards me and stroked one long, elegant finger down the side of my face and over my throat, making me shiver with anticipation. "All good things take time."

At those words, I felt my pulse quicken.

"Is that so?" I whispered, gazing up at him, standing there, towering over me. "And what good things do you have planned for tonight?"

"Dark things, Cassidy. Delicious things. Close your eyes."

"But..."

Before I could get another word out, his finger was at my lips, silencing me. Bending over me, he took my chin in his hand and forced me to gaze directly into his eyes.

"I said close your eyes. Now."

And my eyes slid shut without further protest. The moment they were closed, the tones of a harp rose up around me, enveloping me, carrying me to sweet, unfathomable heights. Elliot's finger slid away from my lips, down, over my throat and farther on. From out of the darkness, I heard his soft footsteps circling me, like the footfalls of a panther.

"Tonight you're mine," he repeated his earlier words. They were imbued with power. "You will do nothing I do not tell you to. You will just lie and listen and dream. Because tonight, Cassidy, your darkest, most forbidden dreams will come true."

The finger traveled on, leaving a line of living fire between my breasts, trailing across my belly and farther down. It felt as hot as a blowtorch and as soft as the feathers from the wings of a fallen angel. And I still was wearing all my clothes!

That, however, was soon to change.

"Cassidy..." His voice was the murmur of distant stars. Unexpectedly, his lips grazed my ear and I sucked in a breath. "You can still stop this, Cassidy. Just say the word, and I'll stop."

Stop? "Don't you dare!" I managed. I didn't want him to stop. I wanted him to go on! I needed him to go on. I needed him.

Out of the darkness of my closed eyelids, I heard an even darker chuckle. "As you wish."

Abruptly, his lips were gone from my ear. I was about to stammer a protest when they made their re-entrance. I felt a deliciously soft touch on my hand. Something nipped on my finger and I sucked in a breath.

"Like?" his voice caressed my ears.

"Very much!" I managed to get out.

"Good. How about this?"

Slowly, torturously slowly, his lips started moving up my middle finger towards my palm. When he had finally reached my palm—I couldn't believe it!—he reversed his direction and started back down my middle finger again.

"Hm... I like this," he murmured. "Maybe I should keep doing this all night."

Pulling it sharply away from his diabolical lips, I pointed my middle finger upwards in a very definite gesture. I was rewarded by a dark chuckle.

"Ah. Feisty, are we?"

"Yes!"

"Does Madam want me to go on?"

"Yes, damn you!"

"Your wish is my command."

Suddenly, his lips were at the inside of my wrist. I sucked in a breath! If I had thought my palms were sensitive, it was nothing compared to the feelings evoked by his lips moving against that tender spot of skin. The music around me sped up, and so did he, his lips dancing a devilish tango on my skin, tormenting me with waves of pleasure.

"Elliot..." It wasn't a complaint, or a demand—it was a simple plea. And he heard it. Faster and faster, he started moving up the inside of my bare arm, giving the same intense attention to every single inch of skin he had given to my finger. Inside, I thanked my lucky stars that I had decided to put on a sleeveless top. Otherwise, another barrier would stand between me and his magic touch.

"Your skin is softer than the feathers of a swan," he whispered from somewhere out of the dark, barely audible over the heavenly tones of the music. "More delicate than the petals of a rose."

"I wouldn't know," I managed to get out. "I've never kissed a swan before!"

Again I heard his chuckle. "Neither have I. I just know."

He had reached my shoulder by now. Placing a reverential kiss there, he casually slid one strap of my top down. I expected him to reach for the other—but no. The next thing I felt was his lips down at my other hand, kissing their way upwards.

I couldn't stop my needy groan from escaping, and was rewarded by another chuckle. "Impatient tonight, are we?"

"Yes!" I growled.

"Be patient. Remember, all good things take time."

"I'm not sure I subscribe to that philosophy!"

He placed a kiss at the crook of my elbow and I whimpered with need. "You will," he whispered. "Believe me."

And the infuriating thing was: part of me did! Only, the biggest part of me just screamed out for him to take me.

On this side, too, he reached my shoulder and placed a reverential kiss on it, sliding the strap down. But instead of pulling my top all the way off, like any other, sensible, horny guy would have done, the bastard left it hanging there and started to leave a teasing trail of kisses along the very edge of my neckline.

"What's wrong with you?" I demanded. "Why the hell haven't you ripped my clothes off yet?"

"Because like this," he whispered, kissing me just a few infuriating inches away from the place I really wanted him, "it's much more fun."

"Any other man would—"

He cut me off without an iota of hesitation. "I don't base my actions on what other men do."

Oh no, he truly did not. The way his divinely sensual lips moved over my skin had already given me ample proof of that.

"I do things my way, Cassidy. And I think you like that."

Abruptly, his lips were gone from my neckline. I saw nothing, heard nothing but the sweet tones of the harp, yet somehow I felt him move above me, downwards. Then I felt the gentle caress of his mouth at my belly, where my top had ridden up, baring my navel.

"Hm... what have we here...?"

"No!" I protested trying to grab wildly for him in the darkness. "Don't! I'm ticklish! Please don't—"

His merciless tongue darted into my navel, sliding round and round and round. I clenched my teeth, trying to keep the laughter in—but no laughter came. Instead, I felt a burning heat spread from my belly all the way through the rest of my body.

"And. Cassidy? Does it tickle? Do you want me to stop, perhaps?"

"N-no!"

"Good girl."

His dexterous fingers were suddenly there, stroking over my top, rolling it up inch by inch. For every inch of me he laid bare, he placed another kiss. My skin was already on fire, and every touch of his lips was like a volcanic eruption.

And then, just before he reached his goal, the part of a girl that all guys were supposed to be drooling for more than anything else, he stopped. He just let my top hang there and stopped. Gah!

The angry growl that erupted from my chest wasn't intentional. But he heard it anyway.

I heard a chuckle out of the dark. "Impatient, are you?"

"Yes, dammit! What are you waiting for?"

I was pissed! So pissed I nearly didn't feel his hands slide my top off the rest of the way and hurl it away.

"I'm just taking my time, Cassidy."

"Either you want me, or you don't!" I hissed. "If you do, get to it!"

"Does this," he said, nipping my ear and making me shiver all over, "give you the impression that I do not want you?"

"N-no," I whimpered.

"Then why say it?"

"B-because... I... I don't know! It's just..."

His lips moved down again, retracing their path over my shoulders, showering sensuality with every step.

"You didn't just say that, did you?" His voice no longer sounded amused. "You really believe that I don't want you?"

"I... I..."

I couldn't say it. He was right, of course, but I couldn't simply admit it out loud.

"Why?" he demanded, his lips dancing a delicate dance at the base of my throat, in time to the heavenly music. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest, it was pounding so hard. "Why would you think that?"

"They... they all..."

"Say it! Get it out!"

"They all left me!" I cried, my eyes suddenly pricking with tears. "Everybody I ever loved abandoned me! And from the moment we met, you've warned me and warned me, trying to shove me away! Of course I think you don't want me! It's plain as the nose on my face! It's—"

From one moment to the next, I couldn't speak anymore. That was because Elliot's lips were on mine, silencing me completely. His tongue delved into my mouth with passion and warmth, driving away the threatening tears. When he broke away, we were both panting heavily.

"There's nothing plain about your nose," he rasped, placing a tender kiss on the tip of it. "It's beautiful."

"You're just saying that," I sniffled.

"No. I'm not those other men, Cassidy. I have reasons for wanting to stay away from you—but they have nothing to do with you. Not with your mind. Not your body. Not with your heart. You are exquisite, and any man who has you as his should thank his lucky stars!"

Suddenly, he was on the bed, sliding in behind me, under me, wrapping his arms around me to hold me close. I could feel him against me, every hard part of his body pressing into my bare back. Every hard part. His quick fingers found the buckle of my belt and, loosening it, started to slide my pants down.

"You're every man's dream!" he breathed into my ear. "Sexy, strong, so seductive without even knowing it... Those other men don't have enough sense to fill a spoon! They had you like this—" He pushed against me, making me gasp, "—and let you go. Bah! Fools!"

"You want me? Really want me?"

"Yes!"

The word was music in my ears, a hundred times more beautiful than any melody a harp could ever play.

"Then take me, damn you!"

"Not yet," he whispered, letting his lips wander down the side of my neck. "I won't be able to give you everything you want, Cassidy, nor everything you need—but I will make sure that you feel wanted. Every single part of you. I won't just take you, Cassidy, and then leave. I will seduce you, from top to bottom, from the delectable surface of your skin to your very core."

His lips had wandered down beyond my neck, over my back and to the clasp of my bra. What did he want there?

A moment later, my question was answered when he caught the clasp between his teeth and tugged.

What the...?

Incredulous, I felt the straps of my bra fall.

"Where did you learn that trick?" I demanded.

From behind me, I heard a soft chuckle. "That's a secret."

"Not fair! I want to kno—ng!"

I broke off with a groan of pleasure as his lips found the exact spot on my skin where a moment ago, the clasp had protected my modesty.

"Tricks of the trade," he murmured against my skin.

"Your trade is unfastening bra straps?"

"No. Tonight, my trade is making love to you."

The power of the words nearly made me keel over. Only his strong arms held me up. I opened my mouth to say something snarky, to demand the truth again, to say anything, but before I could get out a single syllable, his lips started down my back, leaving a fiery trail on my spine. His fingers, those capable, dexterous fingers, caressed me first on this side then on that, stoking the fire in my spine, making me want to whimper. I couldn't say one word anymore.

"Cassy—look at me."

I couldn't defy the command in his voice. Turning my head, I opened my eyes for the first time since in, it seemed, forever. The first thing I saw was his steady, midnight-blue gaze. Lifting one hand, he made a beckoning gesture with one finger, and I willingly leaned closer. Our lips met and melded together in an ecstasy of heat. It felt unlike any other kiss we had shared before. Was the music still playing? If it did, I didn't hear it.

"Wow," I breathed, breaking away.

His dark eyes were pensive and intense. "That was... different."

"Yes. Any other time we kissed it felt like the climax of the evening, but this time..."

He smirked. "This time, the climax is still to come."

My mouth dropped open. "Elliot!"

"You're right." He nodded, in mock thoughtfulness. "One isn't enough. Three, at the very least."

"Elliot, you—" I didn't get to finish though. I was interrupted by his next kiss. A kiss that flung me around like a whirlwind and hurled me backwards, flat onto the bed. I closed my eyes and just let myself enjoy the feel of him holding me, wanting me.

We broke apart again and I felt him slide down the front of my body, worshipping me with kisses all the way. In one fluid movement he ripped my pants away from where they still hung around one ankle. The sparse remainder of my clothing took flight soon after.

And then...

Nothing.

Waiting, I lay there, with closed eyes, expecting the next touch of his lips, the next caress of his fingers. Nothing came.

Finally, I opened my eyes again, and saw Elliot standing beside the bed, towering over me. Moonlight fell in through the window, shimmering on the sleek muscles of his now bared torso. He must have removed his shirt. But why was he still wearing his pants? Desire was burning in his eyes, every bit as hot as when he was kissing me. But there was something else: that strange pain and guilt that I had seen in him before and simply couldn't understand.

"Elliot... What's wrong?"

"I can't do this!" Blue fire blazed in his dark eyes.

My own eyes went wide. "But you said you wanted me!"

"I do! Right now, there's nothing I want more. But... there are things you don't know about me, Cassidy! If I do this, you'll come to regret it."

My hands which had been about to clench into fists, relaxed. I gazed up at his lean, hard body, gleaming in the pale silvery light.

"I sincerely doubt that." Stretching upwards, I placed a soft kiss on his chest. And as I reached up towards him, the music reached with me, rising to new heights, calling him to me. "And even if it's true—right here, right now, I still want you!"

His eyes flashed, the pain and doubt from one moment to the next replaced by desire and determination. Quick as a wink, he disposed of his pants. The next moment, he was on me, blanketing my body with his hot, hard muscles.

"Then prepare yourself for the best night of your life."

The feeling of his skin on mine...his mouth burning possessive brands on me—it was just too much! Too wonderfully, ecstatically much.

"Oh...Elliot!"

"Cassidy..."

Stroking my face, he claimed my lips again. Fumbling, I reached out and pushed off his underpants, the last barrier between us. I needed him! I needed him so badly. As the music rose to a climax, I reached out for him greedily and—

—and then the phone rang.

I groaned.

He did the same, but it wasn't a groan of frustration. He was still devouring my mouth, and his hands were sliding down to take over where I'd left off. His underpants were gone in an instant.

"Elliot...the phone..."

"Let it ring!" he commanded in a raspy voice. "Nothing and no one is going to ruin this perfect moment."

Boy, was he ever wrong about that.

With a click, the answering machine switched on, and the sweet, grandmotherly tones of an older lady drifted through the open door to the living room.

"Hey there, snugglebunny! How is my little muffin wuffin?"

Elliot stiffened. And not in a good way. On the list of top ten sentences likely to deflate a man, this probably ranked second right after "Honey, did I mention I have herpes?"

I quirked an eyebrow up at the naked man on top of me, trying very, very hard not to smile—and failing utterly. "Snugglebunny?"

Clapping his hand over his eyes, he rolled off me. All he managed in response to my query was an agonized groan before the cheerful, grandmotherly voice chipped in again.

"It's been so long since we've visited, Snugglebunny! Why don't you drop by for a visit with your grandma and grandpa? We'd love to see you—"

My body shaking, I let my eyes rove over his naked form. "Not like this they don't. What do you think, muffin wuffin?"

"—and we'd love to meet that sweet girl we saw you with the other night. What was her name again?"

I stiffened.

Oh, shit!

"You really should have introduced us, and we would love for the two of you to—"

There was a rustle, and suddenly, another voice cut in. Stern. Starched. And definitely male.

"What your grandmother is trying to say, is that you had better get your hind quarters over here instantly, Elliot William Winslow. And bring that female your grandmother mentioned with you for a thorough inspection. We shall expect you on Monday, six pm sharp. Over and out."

We heard a click and then—silence.

Slowly, Elliot rolled over to look at me.

"Um...what exactly was that?" I enquired.

"A royal summons." He gave me a weak smile. "Got anything planned on Monday?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, my dear Homicidal Maniacs, what do you think of Snugglebunny the little Muffin Wuffin? ;-)

I was trying to get onto the top ten of most hilariously embarrassing ways to interrupt intimate scenes. Do you think I managed?

Cheers

Sir Rob