Free Only in the Night by Roberta Latow

myself, for us to be free to discover each other without anyone hovering around us. Do you mind if we help ourselves to the dinner she has prepared for us and stay in tonight?’
    Her answer was to kiss him. Once more John was delightfully surprised at the power and passion of Eliza’s hunger for him. Her giving nature, the lack of sexual inhibition, excited him. He sensed untold possibilities to a sex life with this young charmer who hardly knew what or who she was.
    ‘You suit me perfectly. We are going to be very happy together,’ he told her as he removed his jacket and dropped it on a chair then began undoing the buttons of her blouse.
    They stood naked in front of the fire, just gazing at each other’s bodies for several minutes, as if they wanted to etch them and this moment in their minds for ever. For John, she was lovelier, more purely erotic, without her rather shabby, cheap clothes. Naked, she was all young firm flesh with an edge of voluptuousness to her that elicited lust. She was at the same time obviously innocent of how thrilling sexual debauchery, the depraved side of sex, could be, yet with a body and a psyche ready and waiting to be mastered by sex with him. Eliza, a giving soul, was just as ravenous to give him pleasure in sex, affection, adoration, as much as she craved to have those same things for herself. He would teach her well how to love him, groom her for a London life. The very idea was enough to make him fall in love with her that little bit more.
    John carried her to his bedroom and the four-posterbed and laid her down on the bronze silk damask coverlet. He switched on the lamp on the table next to the bed and then lay down next to her. He was no rough-and-tumble, highly sexed farmer. Here was a man who seduced Eliza with finesse, by exciting every one of the more sensitive areas of her body. In no time at all she was willingly submissive, he her sexual lord and master. And when he did penetrate her for the first time, she was as if flayed, every nerve end exposed, ready to be set alight.
    They missed their dinner that evening and dined instead on lust. By morning
she
was hopelessly in love with this very sexy and exciting man,
he
more than just smitten with her. They had breakfast together in bed, served by the housekeeper, Mrs Fanshaw. Eliza was wrapped in one of John’s silk Turnbull & Asser dressing gowns, he had no more than the bed clothes to hide his nakedness. After breakfast they bathed together and he made her confess that she was in love with him. They made love in the bath and Eliza was more surprised than shocked when he turned her over and made her take a position on her knees facing him. He caressed her breasts, even more sensuous and tantalising to caress in the slippery smooth warm water with one hand while using a rather beautiful sexual object to fuck her with. He explained he wanted to watch her come, concentrate not on his pleasure but on giving sexual ecstasy to her. She was both excited and moved by his selflessness.
    After her bath, Eliza went to her room where she dried her hair and dressed. She felt somehow as if she were floating on air, that she had been transposed into another life. From her room she went back to John’sroom, then to his impressive library, then the drawing room – looking for him in the vast flat. This was the first opportunity she’d had to really look at his home, absorb the things she was seeing. The many silver-framed photographs on the piano in his music room, the others on a table or a desk: beautiful woman, famous statesmen, one of Princess Margaret, several recognisable actors, many hunting scenes – the Beaufort, Belvoir, the Vale of the White Horse, and his own Hathrop.
    Unable to find him anywhere in the flat, Eliza went to the kitchen where she found Mrs Fanshaw, who offered her another cup of coffee. Eliza accepted and then sat down at the large wooden table in the middle of the room and asked, ‘Where is John, Mrs