right now, a stunned, aroused expression on his broad handsome face. He’d look at her as though she was the most beautiful woman on the planet and he was the luckiest guy alive. He’d watch her as though it was taking every ounce of self-control he had to refrain from jumping on her and ravaging her right then and there.
Amelia’s slender hips were moving in time with her fingers now. It was as though her body had a mind of its own , engaging in a slow, sensual dance with an invisible partner. Her nipples were tight and stiff, the pink nubs wobbling in all directions as she writhed around on the couch like a woman possessed.
Her fingers stroked her sex enthusiastically. She pretended it was Jake who was touching her, caressing her tender clitoris while he whispered sweet, sinful things in her ear.
“Oh God, Jake,” she moaned as her climax rapidly approached. Her fingers strummed her hard pearl with increasing speed, playing her body like an instrument. Her hips bucked up and down and her head dropped back as her belly tightened. Her muscles rippled with desire and her toes curled of their own accord.
Every cell in Amelia’s body was alight with arousal. Her face was flushed and her gaze was unfocused. Her lips were slightly parted and her breathing was labored. She gasped and sputtered as her fingertips coaxed an intense orgasm from her body, groaning in satisfaction as wave after wave of pleasure crashed down on her.
She hadn’t had an orgasm like that since before Jake had died.
H er entire body felt drained but deeply satisfied.
After her orgasm, Amelia lay there on the couch for some time, unmoving. It was nice to just bask in the afterglow of her climax and not think about anything at all. For once, her mind was totally, wonderfully blank.
But that didn’t last for long – it never did.
A comment Chase had made began to nag at Amelia. He’d joked about hallucinating due to the strong paint fumes in the cabin. The more time that passed since her dead husband had whispered to her from the forest, the more Amelia doubted what she’d experienced at the lake.
Had she been hallucinating?
Had she imagined she was talking to Jake?
Had there ever really been a wolf?
Doubt was a terrible, poisonous thing. As Amelia grappled with a thousand questions, she realized all she could do was wait for night to fall and hope that Jake would make his presence known to her again. Then she’d know for sure whether he was truly there.
Amelia’s slender hips were moving in time with her fingers now. It was as though her body had a mind of its own , engaging in a slow, sensual dance with an invisible partner. Her nipples were tight and stiff, the pink nubs wobbling in all directions as she writhed around on the couch like a woman possessed.
Her fingers stroked her sex enthusiastically. She pretended it was Jake who was touching her, caressing her tender clitoris while he whispered sweet, sinful things in her ear.
“Oh God, Jake,” she moaned as her climax rapidly approached. Her fingers strummed her hard pearl with increasing speed, playing her body like an instrument. Her hips bucked up and down and her head dropped back as her belly tightened. Her muscles rippled with desire and her toes curled of their own accord.
Every cell in Amelia’s body was alight with arousal. Her face was flushed and her gaze was unfocused. Her lips were slightly parted and her breathing was labored. She gasped and sputtered as her fingertips coaxed an intense orgasm from her body, groaning in satisfaction as wave after wave of pleasure crashed down on her.
She hadn’t had an orgasm like that since before Jake had died.
H er entire body felt drained but deeply satisfied.
After her orgasm, Amelia lay there on the couch for some time, unmoving. It was nice to just bask in the afterglow of her climax and not think about anything at all. For once, her mind was totally, wonderfully blank.
But that didn’t last for long – it never did.
A comment Chase had made began to nag at Amelia. He’d joked about hallucinating due to the strong paint fumes in the cabin. The more time that passed since her dead husband had whispered to her from the forest, the more Amelia doubted what she’d experienced at the lake.
Had she been hallucinating?
Had she imagined she was talking to Jake?
Had there ever really been a wolf?
Doubt was a terrible, poisonous thing. As Amelia grappled with a thousand questions, she realized all she could do was wait for night to fall and hope that Jake would make his presence known to her again. Then she’d know for sure whether he was truly there.
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