Nightshade by Jaide Fox Page B

at the hard current that shot through her, crushing the breath from her lungs, sending her mind reeling toward a dark abyss.
     
    Finding that she could not reach him, she dug fingers like claws into the bedclothes, fighting to drag in panting breaths as he sought and found one spot of such tenderness that nearly unbearable pleasure inundated her. Feverish, mindless, she babbled his name like a litany in a harsh, broken whisper, beseeching him to stop one moment and never to stop in the next.
     
    To her everlasting gratitude, he did not stop. He tugged and teased the nub of flesh until it felt as if her heart would collapse, stroking his tongue along her sensitive cleft from the nub to the mouth of her sex. Feeling her body coiling toward release, she began to beg him to stop once more, to fill her with his flesh. He hesitated, seemed to debate the matter and finally surged upward. Shoving the thick rounded head of his cock into the mouth of her sex, he caught her knees and dragged her toward the edge of the bed, toward him.
     
    Her flesh closed around his in a stranglehold that thwarted his entry. Slipping an arm beneath her hips, he grasped her arm with his other hand and hauled her upright. As confused as she was, Bronwyn was as desperate for his possession as he was to thrust inside of her. She locked her legs around his hips as he brought her upright, looping her arms around his neck to support herself as he caught her hips and bore down on them, sheathing himself within her by agonizing inches. She bit down lightly on the ropy connective tissue between his neck and shoulder as he finally possessed her completely, grinding his hips against her cleft as if he wanted to climb inside of her. The abrasion of his flesh against her sensitive flesh breached the last of her defenses. She emitted a low groan as exquisite pleasure burst inside of her, trembling with the intensity of it. The milking motions of her contractions sent him over the edge, as well. Clutching her tightly, he pumped his seed into her in short, swift strokes, staggering slightly with the force of his own climax and finally collapsing onto the bed with her still clutched tightly against him.
     
    They lay still, entwined, gasping for breath, unable even to move for many moments. Finally, still holding her to him, Nightshade struggled further onto the bed and loosened his hold on her.
     
    Sated, glorying in the warm afterglow, Bronwyn made no attempt either to gather her wits or to gather herself to move away. Instead, once she had recovered some presence of mind, she snuggled closer to his body, resting her hand lightly on his massive chest. He lifted a hand with obvious effort and dropped it to her head, which was nestled on his shoulder, stroking her hair. “I did not hurt you, sweeting?” he asked gruffly after a moment.
     
    From out of no where the urge to weep swept over her, filling her eyes with tears and overflowing.
     

     

     

     

Chapter Eight
     

     
    Bronwyn sniffed, struggling to stem the scalding tears and failed. He had called her sweeting! He had just made her feel the most wonderful thing in the world, loved her body almost worshipfully, and now he was worried that he had hurt her?
     
    She made a snuffling sound as she fought the urge to break down and squall like an infant, realizing abruptly that it was the sense of hopeless that filled her at his words that had broken the dam. He cared for her and she had fallen desperately in love with him and there was no hope for them! None!
     
    Feeling the hot tears seeping from her eyes, he sat up abruptly, grasping her jaw and tilting her face up to his gaze. “No,” she answered him finally through lips that struggled awkwardly with the effort of forming even that word.
     
    He released her abruptly, surging from the bed. She scrubbed the tears from her eyes with her hands, but they only filled again, blurring her vision as she tried to look at him. The look on his face when she