Stone Lover by A. C. Warneke Page A

remarkable and frustrating, making her whimper. “Please.”
        “Patience,” he murmured, lifting his head and talking against her lips just before he kissed her. Expertly, his mouth moved over hers, tasting her, familiarizing her with his lips. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth and her hands fell away from his cock, drifting to his chest once more. Taking a step forward, he closed the small distance between their bodies, pressing his erection against her swollen and aching sex.
        Grinding against her, he deepened the kiss, running his tongue along the seam of her lips, silently asking for admittance. Her mouth opened, eagerly allowing him in. He even tasted of headiness and luxury, of heat and fulfillment. His tongue moved along hers, thrusting in and out of her mouth, tasting, teasing.
        Hesitantly at first, than with greater boldness, she moved her tongue along his, losing herself in the kiss. Trailing his fingers over her stomach, the lace of her panties, he pressed a thumb against her clit, “Yes?”
        “God, yes,” she breathed, pressing against his hand, feeling the rasp of lace against her swollen flesh. Her thighs shook, falling open even further, practically begging him to enter her.
        The whimpers coming from her destroyed any illusion of control he may have had. Grabbing the panties, he tore them from her body, needing to be in her. Holding onto her hips, he positioned the head of his straining cock at her entrance, “Yes?”
        “Yes!” she cried, her hips flexing towards him. “Please, yes!”
        He thrust into her, filling her, impaling her. Releasing his breath in a long, drawn-out sigh of exaltation, he paused, savoring the first moment of having his cock embraced by the hot, tight passage of her feminine flesh. His eyes slid shut as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him all the way into her. It was rare to find a woman capable of taking so much in such a short time; it was pleasure almost beyond endurance and he wanted more. His mouth possessed hers in a desperate mating of tongues and teeth and lips.
        Her fingers tunneled through his thick, golden head of hair, holding his mouth against hers, wrapping him in her body, around her body.  Crossing her ankles behind his back, pressing her heels into his butt, she wanted to climb all the way into him. The pain of being impaled was nothing compared to the rapture. And when he started to move, everything coalesced into the one spot between her legs until she was a vessel of pure ecstasy. 
        Matching his rhythm, pushing down as he pushed up and taking him ever deeper, she could feel the beginnings of an orgasm, one that was centered deep within. Breathing quickly, it was too much and she wasn’t going to survive, she knew it. Tightening her hold around his neck, she tore her mouth away from his, gasping for breath. “Please.”
        “Hold on, my love,” he rasped, his hips flexing faster and faster, demanding more and more. His hands moved to her ass; cupping her, holding her, he moved her ever closer to the precipice.
        Pain erupted into exquisite pleasure that radiated outwards from where they were joined. Her back arched and she screamed as the world came to an end. He continued to thrust, prolonging her death, her rebirth. Then his body stiffened and he growled out his release. As her muscles contracted, she felt the pulsing of his orgasm against her womb. From far away, she realized that the counter no longer supported her, that he held her entire weight in his arms.
        Breathing heavily, he continued to hold her in his arms, even as her body collapsed onto his, boneless. Weightless. Although her hold on him loosened, she did not let go. He was the only real thing in the world, the only thing. Pressing her lips against the strong column of his neck, she tasted his salty skin; she wanted to feast on him forever.
        Realizing once more that he held her in