kissing…
Blinking, I forced the lustful thoughts away and went to the chest of drawers. “You can’t go about the house in that nightgown, and if you’re opposed to wearing a dress, you might as well wear some of Dalton’s clothes.” My voice seemed higher pitched than usual, and I chattered as fast as a squirrel corned by a cat.
“There’s a belt in here somewhere,” I said, rummaging. I sounded nervous. “Ah, here it is.”
But when I gathered up the clothes and turned, I froze at the sight. Alice stood waiting, stark naked. It was an invitation—one I didn’t know if I was ready to accept.
Boldly, my eyes traveled down her body, lingering on her small breasts with their dark peach nipples and lower, down her lean torso to the sparse copse of dark auburn curls at the juncture of long, coltish legs. For someone who’d hidden herself from view for the past two years, she seemed terribly comfortable with her nudity now.
The bandage on her thigh appeared clean. At least she no longer bled. And when I saw that she continued to heal, my thoughts turned dark and lustful.
She cleared her throat, and my guilty gaze shot to hers. My stomach tensed. Her stormy eyes had grown dark. “Put the clothes on the bed, Belle.”
I didn’t argue. I didn’t say a word. Instead, I did as Alice bade me. My pulse stampeded in my veins. Every hair on my body prickled.
The floorboards creaked when she took a step closer. “Pull up your skirts, and bend over the bed.”
I should refuse. I should walk away from this. It was one thing to allow her to touch me in the dark but quite another to submit to it in broad daylight—knowing she’d been with a woman before—knowing I’d gladly be with her again.
Anticipation thrummed through my veins as I gathered my skirts higher and higher. Alice moved in behind me. “Bend over, Belle,” she whispered as she arranged my skirts with care.
Air wafted in through the slit in my drawers. I trembled as she braced one hand on the base of my spine.
“Spread your legs, sweetheart,” she said, the hint of her brogue evident.
Walk away. Don’t submit to this . I inched my feet farther apart. Alice voiced her approval as she worked her hand into the slit of my pantalets. Heat radiated from her hand when she cupped my mound. I quivered and spread my thighs even more. Already, my channel grew damp awaiting her invasion.
I bit my bottom lip.
Alice tickled my wanton flesh with her fingertips. “Tell me what you want.” One of her fingers prodded my opening. I pushed back, wanting the digit inside me, but a sudden smack on my bottom made me yelp.
Heat blazed through my backside. Immediately, rage filled me, but when her hand plunged into my drawers again, my fury melted. “Now, tell me what you want,” Alice ground out.
“Y-your finger,” I stammered. I dropped my head down on the mattress, exposing my bottom even more. How could I submit to this reckless sort of thing with such willful abandon?
A sigh of delight escaped my lips when she gave me what I’d asked for. Her finger thrust into my sheath. Liquid pooled in my channel and then trickled down one of my thighs.
“Do you want two fingers?” Her voice was rough. Hoarse. “Do you want it to feel like a man fucking you?”
“Yes.”
A second finger joined the first, stretching me to capacity. I cried out at the curious sensation of pleasure mingled with pain. I thrived on it. I loved it. I wanted more. “Harder,” I heard myself say.
I was totally at her mercy, bent and spread for her and more than willing to allow her to assault my cunny with her fingers. She controlled me, and the surrender I experienced at giving myself over to her completely vindicated me. Absolved me. It swept me away from the trials and worries that plagued me. “Harder, Alice,” I managed through gritted teeth.
“Damn, Belle. You’re wet.”
She worked her fingers harder and faster than Dalton had ever dreamed of fucking me. I debated
Blinking, I forced the lustful thoughts away and went to the chest of drawers. “You can’t go about the house in that nightgown, and if you’re opposed to wearing a dress, you might as well wear some of Dalton’s clothes.” My voice seemed higher pitched than usual, and I chattered as fast as a squirrel corned by a cat.
“There’s a belt in here somewhere,” I said, rummaging. I sounded nervous. “Ah, here it is.”
But when I gathered up the clothes and turned, I froze at the sight. Alice stood waiting, stark naked. It was an invitation—one I didn’t know if I was ready to accept.
Boldly, my eyes traveled down her body, lingering on her small breasts with their dark peach nipples and lower, down her lean torso to the sparse copse of dark auburn curls at the juncture of long, coltish legs. For someone who’d hidden herself from view for the past two years, she seemed terribly comfortable with her nudity now.
The bandage on her thigh appeared clean. At least she no longer bled. And when I saw that she continued to heal, my thoughts turned dark and lustful.
She cleared her throat, and my guilty gaze shot to hers. My stomach tensed. Her stormy eyes had grown dark. “Put the clothes on the bed, Belle.”
I didn’t argue. I didn’t say a word. Instead, I did as Alice bade me. My pulse stampeded in my veins. Every hair on my body prickled.
The floorboards creaked when she took a step closer. “Pull up your skirts, and bend over the bed.”
I should refuse. I should walk away from this. It was one thing to allow her to touch me in the dark but quite another to submit to it in broad daylight—knowing she’d been with a woman before—knowing I’d gladly be with her again.
Anticipation thrummed through my veins as I gathered my skirts higher and higher. Alice moved in behind me. “Bend over, Belle,” she whispered as she arranged my skirts with care.
Air wafted in through the slit in my drawers. I trembled as she braced one hand on the base of my spine.
“Spread your legs, sweetheart,” she said, the hint of her brogue evident.
Walk away. Don’t submit to this . I inched my feet farther apart. Alice voiced her approval as she worked her hand into the slit of my pantalets. Heat radiated from her hand when she cupped my mound. I quivered and spread my thighs even more. Already, my channel grew damp awaiting her invasion.
I bit my bottom lip.
Alice tickled my wanton flesh with her fingertips. “Tell me what you want.” One of her fingers prodded my opening. I pushed back, wanting the digit inside me, but a sudden smack on my bottom made me yelp.
Heat blazed through my backside. Immediately, rage filled me, but when her hand plunged into my drawers again, my fury melted. “Now, tell me what you want,” Alice ground out.
“Y-your finger,” I stammered. I dropped my head down on the mattress, exposing my bottom even more. How could I submit to this reckless sort of thing with such willful abandon?
A sigh of delight escaped my lips when she gave me what I’d asked for. Her finger thrust into my sheath. Liquid pooled in my channel and then trickled down one of my thighs.
“Do you want two fingers?” Her voice was rough. Hoarse. “Do you want it to feel like a man fucking you?”
“Yes.”
A second finger joined the first, stretching me to capacity. I cried out at the curious sensation of pleasure mingled with pain. I thrived on it. I loved it. I wanted more. “Harder,” I heard myself say.
I was totally at her mercy, bent and spread for her and more than willing to allow her to assault my cunny with her fingers. She controlled me, and the surrender I experienced at giving myself over to her completely vindicated me. Absolved me. It swept me away from the trials and worries that plagued me. “Harder, Alice,” I managed through gritted teeth.
“Damn, Belle. You’re wet.”
She worked her fingers harder and faster than Dalton had ever dreamed of fucking me. I debated
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