Her scent is pure desire, her breath ragged, the urgent press of her hands guiding him where she wants him, the peak of her nipple standing up hard against his tongue, and all of it urges him on. Her stomach muscles flutter where his hand slips beneath her waist band and her hips rise up. The button on her trousers give way, and the sound of the zip makes her freeze.

Her scent changes, desire warring with concern.

"Richard," she breathes and he feels her hand rest gently on the back of his. Her voice is a hurried whisper, almost babbling.

"I just want you to know, I didn't set out to seduce you. I want this, I want you, god I want you, but I don't want just a one night stand. I like you, I mean really like you. God, I hope you don't think I'm --"