waist.
Staring spellbound at her round, firm breasts swaying as she twisted this way and that, he grappled to contain the beast-lust urging him to take her hard and fast. Mesmerized by the way she gracefully wriggled the chocolate velvet around curvy hips, over slender thighs, and past shapely ankles, he could do naught but ogle. ’Twas only when her dainty feet kicked the gown off the bed that his swive-sotted head cleared enough to command his limbs into action.
No harem houri could match the alluring picture Étaín portrayed. Ringlets lit by a stream of sunlight, eyes downcast, naked save for enticing stockings topped by mocha garters, she stole his breath away. The combination of her beguiling bold act of shedding her clothes belied by her shy posture and the cascade of blushes ebbing and flowing over her throat and face, had his prick engorged and throbbing.
All remnants of willpower vaporized.
Brand lifted her by the waist, placed her knees to either side of his head, and pressed his lips to the slick folds of her sex.
Valhalla.
She tasted of paradise, of some magik elixir that drove him to a furious drinking of her honey.
He held her by the hips and buried his face in her pussy, coating his nose, mouth, and tongue with her exquisite flavor. She smelled better than his dreams, and he hunted each trace of the musk hidden between her swollen folds.
The little sounds she gasped enflamed his burning ardor. When she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled, his stones twitched up against his cock into rock-hard, seething nuts.
Placing his mouth over her nub, he inhaled, and nigh spurted his load right there and then. Brand snarled, jerked his head from her iron grip on his hair, and his prickling scalp brought back some small measure of control.
Using his elbows, he nudged her thighs wide, and spread the swollen ruby lips of her sex. The reddened hood guarding her pleasure winked at him. He salivated.
She squirmed.
“Be still,” he growled and worked her woman’s pearl free of its armor. “Valhalla.”
He brushed his lips over the tiny nub and swirled his tongue around the base in a wide circle.
“Mercy,” she rasped. “Mercy.”
“Brand.” He licked her, a long lingering swipe over the engorged flesh.
“Brand,” she cried out and clutched his neck.
He grazed her nubbin and worked a finger into her narrow sheath.
She sank down onto it.
Her walls grabbed onto him. Her legs shook with the force of the climax that ripped through her. She squeezed his finger, her sheath clutching at his flesh in short, sharp contractions.
A surge of her honey drenched Brand’s nose and cheeks. He used his teeth on her woman’s flesh, tiny, gentle nips, and when she grew wetter, inserted another finger into her channel.
Her waning peak resumed three-fold when he began thrusting rhythmically.
Unable to hold off any longer, he surrendered to the lightning-flash peak churning his pelvis. Brand’s hips rose of their own accord. He bucked off the mattress in wild erratic thrusts. His blood heated to a glowing inferno.
The climax arrowed up from his flexed toes, galloped across his groin, and his seed spurted in red-hot jets from his cock. Brand shuddered through the waves of ecstasy battering at him. He clung to her and pressed his face into the delectable curve of her belly.
For some indeterminable period, they held each other thusly. ’Twas only when his lungs ceased blistering him from the insides did Brand realize how uncomfortable the position must be for his wife. He nuzzled her belly button, licked around the rim, and rolled them over so she lay curled around him.
Not since his first encounters with swiving had he spent into his breeches. Brand flung an elbow over his face and choked back a slew of curses aimed at himself.
Twice now, he had failed to adhere to his strict plans. Twice now, he had lost control. But the same had happened on occasion in the past. The waves of unstoppable thundering desire
Staring spellbound at her round, firm breasts swaying as she twisted this way and that, he grappled to contain the beast-lust urging him to take her hard and fast. Mesmerized by the way she gracefully wriggled the chocolate velvet around curvy hips, over slender thighs, and past shapely ankles, he could do naught but ogle. ’Twas only when her dainty feet kicked the gown off the bed that his swive-sotted head cleared enough to command his limbs into action.
No harem houri could match the alluring picture Étaín portrayed. Ringlets lit by a stream of sunlight, eyes downcast, naked save for enticing stockings topped by mocha garters, she stole his breath away. The combination of her beguiling bold act of shedding her clothes belied by her shy posture and the cascade of blushes ebbing and flowing over her throat and face, had his prick engorged and throbbing.
All remnants of willpower vaporized.
Brand lifted her by the waist, placed her knees to either side of his head, and pressed his lips to the slick folds of her sex.
Valhalla.
She tasted of paradise, of some magik elixir that drove him to a furious drinking of her honey.
He held her by the hips and buried his face in her pussy, coating his nose, mouth, and tongue with her exquisite flavor. She smelled better than his dreams, and he hunted each trace of the musk hidden between her swollen folds.
The little sounds she gasped enflamed his burning ardor. When she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled, his stones twitched up against his cock into rock-hard, seething nuts.
Placing his mouth over her nub, he inhaled, and nigh spurted his load right there and then. Brand snarled, jerked his head from her iron grip on his hair, and his prickling scalp brought back some small measure of control.
Using his elbows, he nudged her thighs wide, and spread the swollen ruby lips of her sex. The reddened hood guarding her pleasure winked at him. He salivated.
She squirmed.
“Be still,” he growled and worked her woman’s pearl free of its armor. “Valhalla.”
He brushed his lips over the tiny nub and swirled his tongue around the base in a wide circle.
“Mercy,” she rasped. “Mercy.”
“Brand.” He licked her, a long lingering swipe over the engorged flesh.
“Brand,” she cried out and clutched his neck.
He grazed her nubbin and worked a finger into her narrow sheath.
She sank down onto it.
Her walls grabbed onto him. Her legs shook with the force of the climax that ripped through her. She squeezed his finger, her sheath clutching at his flesh in short, sharp contractions.
A surge of her honey drenched Brand’s nose and cheeks. He used his teeth on her woman’s flesh, tiny, gentle nips, and when she grew wetter, inserted another finger into her channel.
Her waning peak resumed three-fold when he began thrusting rhythmically.
Unable to hold off any longer, he surrendered to the lightning-flash peak churning his pelvis. Brand’s hips rose of their own accord. He bucked off the mattress in wild erratic thrusts. His blood heated to a glowing inferno.
The climax arrowed up from his flexed toes, galloped across his groin, and his seed spurted in red-hot jets from his cock. Brand shuddered through the waves of ecstasy battering at him. He clung to her and pressed his face into the delectable curve of her belly.
For some indeterminable period, they held each other thusly. ’Twas only when his lungs ceased blistering him from the insides did Brand realize how uncomfortable the position must be for his wife. He nuzzled her belly button, licked around the rim, and rolled them over so she lay curled around him.
Not since his first encounters with swiving had he spent into his breeches. Brand flung an elbow over his face and choked back a slew of curses aimed at himself.
Twice now, he had failed to adhere to his strict plans. Twice now, he had lost control. But the same had happened on occasion in the past. The waves of unstoppable thundering desire
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