to my ears.
“Damn straight I will,” he growls and leaps my way. His hands dart around my waist. His mouth crushes mine. His tongue delves in my mouth. Domineering. Overruling. Possessive.
I moan. And the sound seems to set him on fire. He urgently cups the back of my knees and yanks my legs around his hips. Another moan, louder and feral rips through me when my wet apex presses against his erection. My body vibrates and my heart pounds inside my chest.
He carries me through the room, his mouth consuming mine, his erection grinding against my damp panties making my body float on a cloud of pleasure.
After pushing the bedroom door open, he sets me by the bed. “Holy fuck, woman, I want to take my sweet time with you, make it memorable. But hot damn, I can’t control this beast you unleashed inside me.”
He reaches for my hair, and I notice his fingers trembling. I revel in the knowledge that I, too, shake him a bit. Because he is unhinging me.
“I want to fuck you wearing nothing but these flowers in your hair.”
With those words, his lips seal mine. His heat envelops me. His overpowering build dwarfing mine.
I surrender. There is no doubt, fear, shyness, past or future. Time and space blurs, erasing any rational thought. It’s just us. The present. Tangled bodies. Sweaty skin. Throbbing hearts. Animalistic needs demanding to be sated.
The kiss is sensual and slow. Like a simmering heat. A contained fire. His lips leave my mouth and brush against my jaw. It sets my skin ablaze. His tongue strokes a spot behind my ears that has my legs giving out under me. He tightens his grip on my hips, holding me to him as a prized possession, sustaining me. I gasp and groan. My head spins like a lost satellite.
“Your smell is intoxicating.” His tongue, warm and wet, touches my earlobe.
“Your skin tastes so good.” His breath in my ear makes my insides clench.
“I can only imagine how heady the taste of your pussy is.” His teeth scrape on my lobe. My body convulses with an onslaught of sensations that are spiraling me into an abyss of carnal pleasure.
The fabric of his shirt crumples under my balled fists. His mouth is now traveling along my neck. His sharp teeth sink into the soft skin at the junction of my neck and shoulder. I cry out loudly, my head falling back. Mercy me, what is he doing to my body? Is this how sex is supposed to feel? How did I avoid it doing this all these years? Then, again, there is nowhere else I would want to come undone, but inside Seth’s embrace.
“Turn for me,” he commands with a guiding hand over my hips.
I find the courage to move my feet so my back is to him. His hands sprawl over my lower belly as he bends his knees and thrusts his pelvis against my ass with a gyrating motion. I lean my head on his chest.
“Can you feel how hard I am for you?” His hand palms my sex roughly and firmly. I groan, and my nails sink into the skin of the arm that is holding me.
“My dick wants your pussy so bad it fucking hurts.”
Had he not been holding me, I would have fallen on my ass.
He pulls away from me, and his fingers find the dress’s zipper at my side. Slowly, tantalizingly, he begins the descent of it. “Your skin is magic. Fucking magic.”
He pushes the dress down. It falls in a silent swoosh, pooling around my feet. I want to turn around, kiss him, and quench my parched throat. But I don’t dare move.
I can sense his eyes perusing my backside. I hear the shuffling of fabric, and I imagine him doffing his clothes. The mental image of him naked spreads warmth through my skin. The cold air of the room pebbles my skin. I crave his touch.
“Fuck woman, your ass is perfect.” The words sound strained. “Round like cherries. Just like I thought when I saw you standing in the lobby.”
Both his palms spread in a long caress over my shoulder blades. My breath hitches. Desire and need overflowing in a concoction of anticipation. His hands disappear. He plants
“Damn straight I will,” he growls and leaps my way. His hands dart around my waist. His mouth crushes mine. His tongue delves in my mouth. Domineering. Overruling. Possessive.
I moan. And the sound seems to set him on fire. He urgently cups the back of my knees and yanks my legs around his hips. Another moan, louder and feral rips through me when my wet apex presses against his erection. My body vibrates and my heart pounds inside my chest.
He carries me through the room, his mouth consuming mine, his erection grinding against my damp panties making my body float on a cloud of pleasure.
After pushing the bedroom door open, he sets me by the bed. “Holy fuck, woman, I want to take my sweet time with you, make it memorable. But hot damn, I can’t control this beast you unleashed inside me.”
He reaches for my hair, and I notice his fingers trembling. I revel in the knowledge that I, too, shake him a bit. Because he is unhinging me.
“I want to fuck you wearing nothing but these flowers in your hair.”
With those words, his lips seal mine. His heat envelops me. His overpowering build dwarfing mine.
I surrender. There is no doubt, fear, shyness, past or future. Time and space blurs, erasing any rational thought. It’s just us. The present. Tangled bodies. Sweaty skin. Throbbing hearts. Animalistic needs demanding to be sated.
The kiss is sensual and slow. Like a simmering heat. A contained fire. His lips leave my mouth and brush against my jaw. It sets my skin ablaze. His tongue strokes a spot behind my ears that has my legs giving out under me. He tightens his grip on my hips, holding me to him as a prized possession, sustaining me. I gasp and groan. My head spins like a lost satellite.
“Your smell is intoxicating.” His tongue, warm and wet, touches my earlobe.
“Your skin tastes so good.” His breath in my ear makes my insides clench.
“I can only imagine how heady the taste of your pussy is.” His teeth scrape on my lobe. My body convulses with an onslaught of sensations that are spiraling me into an abyss of carnal pleasure.
The fabric of his shirt crumples under my balled fists. His mouth is now traveling along my neck. His sharp teeth sink into the soft skin at the junction of my neck and shoulder. I cry out loudly, my head falling back. Mercy me, what is he doing to my body? Is this how sex is supposed to feel? How did I avoid it doing this all these years? Then, again, there is nowhere else I would want to come undone, but inside Seth’s embrace.
“Turn for me,” he commands with a guiding hand over my hips.
I find the courage to move my feet so my back is to him. His hands sprawl over my lower belly as he bends his knees and thrusts his pelvis against my ass with a gyrating motion. I lean my head on his chest.
“Can you feel how hard I am for you?” His hand palms my sex roughly and firmly. I groan, and my nails sink into the skin of the arm that is holding me.
“My dick wants your pussy so bad it fucking hurts.”
Had he not been holding me, I would have fallen on my ass.
He pulls away from me, and his fingers find the dress’s zipper at my side. Slowly, tantalizingly, he begins the descent of it. “Your skin is magic. Fucking magic.”
He pushes the dress down. It falls in a silent swoosh, pooling around my feet. I want to turn around, kiss him, and quench my parched throat. But I don’t dare move.
I can sense his eyes perusing my backside. I hear the shuffling of fabric, and I imagine him doffing his clothes. The mental image of him naked spreads warmth through my skin. The cold air of the room pebbles my skin. I crave his touch.
“Fuck woman, your ass is perfect.” The words sound strained. “Round like cherries. Just like I thought when I saw you standing in the lobby.”
Both his palms spread in a long caress over my shoulder blades. My breath hitches. Desire and need overflowing in a concoction of anticipation. His hands disappear. He plants