Free Love Rules by Freya North Page B

scar suits you,’ he said. ‘It tells a story – vulnerability behind the feistiness. If that doesn't sound too corny.’
    ‘Corny?’ Thea smiled. ‘Anyone would think you were trying to get into my knickers. Again.’
    ‘Horny,’ Saul confessed, ‘again. And anyway, where are your knickers?’ he asked, glancing up at her from stroking her bush before returning his gaze and snuffling his nose down.
    ‘I think you flung them off somewhere in your living room,’ Thea giggled, but Saul was now too preoccupied to reply. He needed his tongue and his lips to explore Thea's sex. And Thea was now rendered speechless by the pleasure of it all. Their easy chatter gave way to gasps and moans and the seductive sound of her own wetness against Saul's mouth. She ran her fingers through Saul's hair, bending her knees up, shifting her hips and tilting her pelvis, rocking and undulating herself against his face. Instinctively, he let her dictate the pace and he didn't change what he was doing. His lips brushed her, his nose nudged her, his tongue flicked over and inside her. She looked down at him and he looked up at her briefly before closing his eyes to focus better. From previous experience, Thea had presumed cunnilingus merely to be a man's way to expedite lubrication and permit swifter entry. But Saul seemed to be enjoying himself very much if his appreciative hums were anything to go by. Thea eased his head away from her crotch to kiss and suck his face. They rolled and romped over his bed, his straining cock pressing hopefully, pressingly, against her. She pushed him onto his back, slithered on top of him, her sex just tantalizingly beyond the reach of his penis, her nipples a few inches away from his desperate mouth. She licked her own lips, then darted her tongue along his.
    ‘For Christ's sake, fuck me,’ Saul whispered.
    ‘Condom,’ Thea whispered, hoping he had another.
    It occurred to both of them that it wasn't even yet evening. It was Sunday teatime. How decadent. It meant they could do this all night. Quietly, it occurred to both Saul and Thea that, actually, they could indeed do this as long as they liked. They had no commitments, after all. Not that evening. Nor the next. Not to anyone – nor had either for some time. It was all above board, with no complications. Out of the blue, from a chance daft meeting on Primrose Hill, the saga of a lent leather jacket, the fiasco with a lent harmless terrier, Saul Mundy and Thea Luckmore found each other.

Mr and Mrs Sinclair
    ‘Bye-bye, Mr Sinclair,’ said Alice over a cup of strong coffee, struggling to counteract the light-headed nausea that a night of jet-lagged semi-sleep had caused, ‘hurry home to me, won't you?’
    ‘Of course, darling,’ said Mark, kissing the top of her head, grabbing a slice of toast, his jacket and his briefcase. ‘I'm horrendously late, I really must go.’
    ‘Don't!’ Alice implored plaintively. ‘Please bunk off! Go on, I dare you. Phone in sick or something. Please stay. I don't want you to go. You could work from home! I've had you all to myself for a fortnight – I don't want to be alone.’
    Mark smiled at his wife, gazing at him all wide-eyed and winsome despite the bags around her eyes and her hair all mussed up. ‘Why don't you go in yourself?’ he asked.
    ‘Because I don't have to!’ Alice remonstrated. ‘I'm not due in until tomorrow. Anyway, John Lewis are coming with all our wedding-list goodies.’
    ‘Give Thea a call,’ Mark suggested.
    ‘Already have – it's her day off but she doesn't seem to be at home,’ Alice said with contrived petulance.
    ‘Why not go and register with some estate agents?’ Markkissed the top of her head again. ‘I must go.’
    ‘Will you phone me?’ Alice pleaded. ‘Don't you miss me already?’
    ‘Alice,’ said Mark, happily exasperated, ‘have a shower, get dressed, go to Sainsbury's, track down Thea, sign your flat up for sale with Benham and Reeves and put our