Swept Off Her Feet by Camille Anthony Page B

inside her to test her honeyed interior. His fingers re-emerged, dripping with her juices. He licked them clean then delved back inside. His lips nuzzled at her shoulders as his fingers probed deeply.
    Her hips arched up into his touch. A primal cry of need rang from her gasping mouth. He applied two more thick digits, stretching and playing her with his large fingers. The pleasure went off the scale, spinning her into a sudden climax. Her spine bowed, belly tightened, legs jack-knifed as she came, screaming. “Devtorvas!”
    “I am here, cherzda’va and I like the sound of my name screamed from your sweet mouth. Take more, grasp more pleasure…then scream my name again.”
    His hand mashed against her mound, his fingers pistoned in and out of her, driving her swiftly to another, higher peak.
    She tossed her head, desperately trying to throw off the escalating fireball. She feared the magnitude of her response. Her mind whirled under the powerful thrusting of his fingers, shocked to feel her body reaching for another flashpoint.
    She convulsed, almost sobbing from the intense overload of sensations flooding her. Her nipples stabbed at the sky, the diamond-hard bits abraded by the terry cloth towel. Every muscle in her body clenched then released as she bucked under the power of the enormous orgasm. The muscles in her neck gave way, dropping her head against the dresser.
    A cold wave of shame washed over her, icing her flesh. Humiliated that he had won her willing participation, she determined he should not realize just how much she had surrendered.
    Eyes tightly closed, refusing to look at him, she groped sightlessly for something—anything—she could use as a weapon. Her scrabbling fingers closed over Lori’s heavy silver hand mirror. Breathing an apology to her foster-sister, she brought it crashing down on his head.
    His eyes closed, his grip went slack and she quickly darted out from under him. He dizzily reeled away, hands clutching his head, cursing in both English and his native tongue. He recovered almost instantly from the blow and, in a move too fast for her to counter, intercepted her escape.
    “Fem, that hurt!”
    Two grinding orgasms had weakened her legs and left them shaking. She managed only a few steps before he easily recaptured her. He quickly relieved her of the shattered mirror, growling a string of imprecations under his breath. He caught her hands from behind and looped them across her chest, using her own arms to shackle her. With each of her frantic breaths, his muscled forearms rubbed the up-tilted, painfully erect tips of her breasts.
    “Ooohh!” The moan escaped her parted lips against her will.
    He grinned, baring his teeth in a mocking smile. He deliberately brushed her sensitized crests again and again. His cock, solid and huge, pressed threateningly against the swell of her buttocks.
    “You want to play rough?” His raspy whisper tickled her ear.
    It wasn’t laughter that shivered down her spine. She gasped, shaking her head no. He lifted her in his arms anyway.
    Relentless, he walked over to the bed. Brushing aside her half-hearted attempts to deter his will, he forced her down onto the mattress, throwing a muscled leg over her thighs. He secured her with his greater weight. His engorged penis nudged her belly and thigh, its distended length heavy on her sensitive flesh.
    Holding her gaze, he sent his hands roving over and under her terry-cloth cover, seeking the closure. His fingers snagged on the opening, and, undeterred by her defiant glare, ripped the towel away.

Chapter Five

    “Chyya! Hoden bra’qu…? Malau ne macinee?”
    A man sporting an immense weapon stood in the open doorway, his head bent to clear the bedroom’s eight-foot ceiling. A frantic spate of words tripped from his well-shaped lips. The hilt of his wicked-looking sword familiarly clasped in one gigantic hand, the warrior appeared alert and ready for any contingency.
    Over the loud thundering of her heart,