loose hair slide over my
shoulder, its weight caressing my arm and side. I wanted to immerse
myself in his touch. But he wasn’t certain yet that he
could proceed.
“It feels like…bliss,” I
whispered, closing my eyes briefly and then opening them again to
encourage him on.
He edged closer and ran his hands lightly along my arms, from fingertips
to shoulders, reaching inside the wide sleeves of my borrowed shirt.
Holding me inside the cloth he drew me closer. My head tipped back to
expose the tender skin of my throat to his lips. His hot tongue ran
along my neck down to the delightful spot where the collarbones came
together.
My gasp turned into a moan. I wanted to respond, but he held me in such
a way that I couldn’t move my arms,
couldn’t do anything but submit to his caress. I gave
in to it, savoring every moment.
His lips brushed the opening of my shirt, the hollow of my throat, the
tops of my breasts. He shifted my weight in his arms to bring my face
level with his, and drew me toward him, his breath hot on my burning
skin. His mouth covered mine, his tongue parting my lips. My moan
caught in my throat as he slid it inside, filling my mouth. He tasted
of musk, hops, and expensive ale, its fumes rising into my head. My
mouth fell open in response, my face drawing to his faster than my
conscious thought.
His hands found their way under the shirt, his fingers pressing on the
right spots to evoke a response. I shivered as his touch became
stronger, a powerful caress that would have seemed rough if it
didn’t answer so well the fire that burned inside me. I
submerged into it, clinging to him, yielding my body to his fierce
hands.
After a while he drew away and looked at me, as if
seeing me for the first time.
“Gods,” he whispered.
“Dasha. I don’t know what came over
me. I—”
I shifted in his arms, drawing my head away just enough to focus on his
face.
“Take off your
clothes,” I whispered. “I want
you,
now . ”
My voice trembled with urgency, and he responded to it without
hesitation.
I watched his muscles shift under his smooth, hairless skin as I pulled
off my shirt, letting it slide off the bed down to the floor. He was
more handsome than I imagined. His body was sculpted of muscle, lean
and strong like a warrior’s. My eyes moved lower and
I blushed, bringing them back up to his face. He knew I
wasn’t a virgin, but now was not the time to show my
experience.
“You are so beautiful, Dasha,” he
whispered. “You are the most beautiful woman
I’ve ever seen.”
He scooped me up in his arms and lay me down on the bed. Then he eased
alongside me, running his fingers over my body in a gentle caress.
I closed my eyes and let myself float. It was bliss. It was everything I
wanted. It was the best thing I’d ever felt, and I
immersed myself fully in the sensation.
He knew a woman’s body. His touch drove me to ecstasy,
and stopped, and then drove me there again. He knew where to be gentle
and where to be strong, how far to go before he stopped and went on
again. I was vaguely aware of my screams. Everything else faded,
leaving only the sense of touch, the most important, the only important
sense in the whole world.
His insistent fingers slid inside me and I welcomed them with a gasp
that almost left me breathless. I wanted him never to stop. I yearned
for him like a babe yearns for her mother’s breast. And
yet, I wanted more.
I stretched out my hand and touched him. As my burning fingers closed
over his hardened manhood, I felt him shudder and heard him gasp. I
used my free hand to draw him on top of me and guided him to where I
wanted him most.
The first moment of his entry was so intense I almost lost myself in it.
And then our movements, our senses, our thoughts joined into an
unbearable ecstasy and beyond, into darkness.
Ivan
W olf raised his head at a rustling in the brush. It was about time. The
moon was high, its silver light pouring down into the glade. It
shoulder, its weight caressing my arm and side. I wanted to immerse
myself in his touch. But he wasn’t certain yet that he
could proceed.
“It feels like…bliss,” I
whispered, closing my eyes briefly and then opening them again to
encourage him on.
He edged closer and ran his hands lightly along my arms, from fingertips
to shoulders, reaching inside the wide sleeves of my borrowed shirt.
Holding me inside the cloth he drew me closer. My head tipped back to
expose the tender skin of my throat to his lips. His hot tongue ran
along my neck down to the delightful spot where the collarbones came
together.
My gasp turned into a moan. I wanted to respond, but he held me in such
a way that I couldn’t move my arms,
couldn’t do anything but submit to his caress. I gave
in to it, savoring every moment.
His lips brushed the opening of my shirt, the hollow of my throat, the
tops of my breasts. He shifted my weight in his arms to bring my face
level with his, and drew me toward him, his breath hot on my burning
skin. His mouth covered mine, his tongue parting my lips. My moan
caught in my throat as he slid it inside, filling my mouth. He tasted
of musk, hops, and expensive ale, its fumes rising into my head. My
mouth fell open in response, my face drawing to his faster than my
conscious thought.
His hands found their way under the shirt, his fingers pressing on the
right spots to evoke a response. I shivered as his touch became
stronger, a powerful caress that would have seemed rough if it
didn’t answer so well the fire that burned inside me. I
submerged into it, clinging to him, yielding my body to his fierce
hands.
After a while he drew away and looked at me, as if
seeing me for the first time.
“Gods,” he whispered.
“Dasha. I don’t know what came over
me. I—”
I shifted in his arms, drawing my head away just enough to focus on his
face.
“Take off your
clothes,” I whispered. “I want
you,
now . ”
My voice trembled with urgency, and he responded to it without
hesitation.
I watched his muscles shift under his smooth, hairless skin as I pulled
off my shirt, letting it slide off the bed down to the floor. He was
more handsome than I imagined. His body was sculpted of muscle, lean
and strong like a warrior’s. My eyes moved lower and
I blushed, bringing them back up to his face. He knew I
wasn’t a virgin, but now was not the time to show my
experience.
“You are so beautiful, Dasha,” he
whispered. “You are the most beautiful woman
I’ve ever seen.”
He scooped me up in his arms and lay me down on the bed. Then he eased
alongside me, running his fingers over my body in a gentle caress.
I closed my eyes and let myself float. It was bliss. It was everything I
wanted. It was the best thing I’d ever felt, and I
immersed myself fully in the sensation.
He knew a woman’s body. His touch drove me to ecstasy,
and stopped, and then drove me there again. He knew where to be gentle
and where to be strong, how far to go before he stopped and went on
again. I was vaguely aware of my screams. Everything else faded,
leaving only the sense of touch, the most important, the only important
sense in the whole world.
His insistent fingers slid inside me and I welcomed them with a gasp
that almost left me breathless. I wanted him never to stop. I yearned
for him like a babe yearns for her mother’s breast. And
yet, I wanted more.
I stretched out my hand and touched him. As my burning fingers closed
over his hardened manhood, I felt him shudder and heard him gasp. I
used my free hand to draw him on top of me and guided him to where I
wanted him most.
The first moment of his entry was so intense I almost lost myself in it.
And then our movements, our senses, our thoughts joined into an
unbearable ecstasy and beyond, into darkness.
Ivan
W olf raised his head at a rustling in the brush. It was about time. The
moon was high, its silver light pouring down into the glade. It
Similar Books
