Read Online Entwined: Jane in the Jungle (The Erotic Adventures of Jane in the Jungle: Part 1) by Colette Gale - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Colette Gale
Tags: Fiction/Erotica
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throbbing like a huge organ between her legs.
She tried to grab at him, to slide her hands over his warm, solid muscles, but she couldn’t seem to find him, to touch him. Everything was a whirl of heat and wet and dark.
Then he pushed her facedown on the bed, his powerful body settling behind her, pulling her legs apart with firm, measured movements. Her thighs were wet and his fingers slipped through her juices as he spread her wide. He was like an animal, with growls, grumbles and soft keening sounds coming from the back of his throat.
“Man,” he grunted, roughly, sharply arranging her with her legs open and her rump lifted. Her face was buried in the mattress, her arms somehow helpless and unmoving on top of the blanket. “Woman. Fuck woman,” he growled.
When he rammed inside her, Jane cried out in pleasure and pain. He filled her, deep and thick. Her quim closed tightly around him, wet and welcome, already throbbing with release. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow. He pounded.He had no mercy, no care as he slammed deep into her, over and over, his hands curled around her breasts, his face in the back of her neck, hot and fierce. He growled in her ear, his sounds like the animal he was, deep and wordless. Feral.
Jane lost herself, her place, her words as pleasure and heat flooded her. She curled her own fingers into the bed, holding tightly as the hot pulsing pleasure rose inside her, filling her high and fast and hard. Her vision was red and dark, her body dripping and swelling everywhere. His hands, his cock…she tightened around him, her body seizing up and at last she shattered….
Awake.
Jane’s eyes flew open. She was gasping for air, as if she’d been running. Her blanket was on the floor, and her body was hot and damp everywhere.
And she was alone.
Gasping, she stared up at the bamboo rafters, trying to come back to reality, to pull herself from a dream that had been both frightening and compelling. “Oh my God,” she breathed, whispering into the darkness, the back of her hand settling over her eyes as she fought for sanity.
She shivered at the memory of the wild man, fucking her savagely in some den-like cave. She’d wanted it. She’d wanted it.
Shamed and mortified by her thoughts and the path of her dreams, she shifted, her hand falling away. Her gaze moved toward the window.
He was there.
Jane barely stifled a shriek. She closed her eyes and opened them again…yes. He was there.
He crouched on the edge of the window, holding onto the frame, his knees against his chest. The mosquito net hung uselessly to the side.
The curve of his muscles and the square width of his shoulders were outlined by the silvery celestial light of moon and stars. A soft breeze ruffled his springy curls and danced all the way over to Jane’s hot, moist skin. He was positioned such that she could see only a hint of his features: the bare outline of his mouth and the slender length of his nose. One hand curved around the window frame next to him.
Their eyes met and even from the distance, in the faulty light, she read the heat in his. Desire blazed there. His chest was rising and falling just as quickly as hers had been.
Something hot billowed inside her, rushing from her chest up her throat to her cheeks, and down over her belly to the very alive and awake little pearl hooded in its quim. Her heart slammed in her ribcage. She couldn’t swallow, her mouth was dry.
“Woman,” came a very hoarse whisper from the shadowy figure. His arm moved, sleek and muscular, gesturing toward her. Then his hand shifted, settling back into the shadow of his torso as if pointing to himself. “Man.”
Jane was still struggling for breath—a combination of arousal, shock, and mortification. But it took only a moment for her to realize that, surprisingly, she wasn’t frightened by his appearance—nor did she feel threatened as she had done with Kellan Darkdale.
She licked her lips nervously. She knew what she wanted. Oh,
She tried to grab at him, to slide her hands over his warm, solid muscles, but she couldn’t seem to find him, to touch him. Everything was a whirl of heat and wet and dark.
Then he pushed her facedown on the bed, his powerful body settling behind her, pulling her legs apart with firm, measured movements. Her thighs were wet and his fingers slipped through her juices as he spread her wide. He was like an animal, with growls, grumbles and soft keening sounds coming from the back of his throat.
“Man,” he grunted, roughly, sharply arranging her with her legs open and her rump lifted. Her face was buried in the mattress, her arms somehow helpless and unmoving on top of the blanket. “Woman. Fuck woman,” he growled.
When he rammed inside her, Jane cried out in pleasure and pain. He filled her, deep and thick. Her quim closed tightly around him, wet and welcome, already throbbing with release. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow. He pounded.He had no mercy, no care as he slammed deep into her, over and over, his hands curled around her breasts, his face in the back of her neck, hot and fierce. He growled in her ear, his sounds like the animal he was, deep and wordless. Feral.
Jane lost herself, her place, her words as pleasure and heat flooded her. She curled her own fingers into the bed, holding tightly as the hot pulsing pleasure rose inside her, filling her high and fast and hard. Her vision was red and dark, her body dripping and swelling everywhere. His hands, his cock…she tightened around him, her body seizing up and at last she shattered….
Awake.
Jane’s eyes flew open. She was gasping for air, as if she’d been running. Her blanket was on the floor, and her body was hot and damp everywhere.
And she was alone.
Gasping, she stared up at the bamboo rafters, trying to come back to reality, to pull herself from a dream that had been both frightening and compelling. “Oh my God,” she breathed, whispering into the darkness, the back of her hand settling over her eyes as she fought for sanity.
She shivered at the memory of the wild man, fucking her savagely in some den-like cave. She’d wanted it. She’d wanted it.
Shamed and mortified by her thoughts and the path of her dreams, she shifted, her hand falling away. Her gaze moved toward the window.
He was there.
Jane barely stifled a shriek. She closed her eyes and opened them again…yes. He was there.
He crouched on the edge of the window, holding onto the frame, his knees against his chest. The mosquito net hung uselessly to the side.
The curve of his muscles and the square width of his shoulders were outlined by the silvery celestial light of moon and stars. A soft breeze ruffled his springy curls and danced all the way over to Jane’s hot, moist skin. He was positioned such that she could see only a hint of his features: the bare outline of his mouth and the slender length of his nose. One hand curved around the window frame next to him.
Their eyes met and even from the distance, in the faulty light, she read the heat in his. Desire blazed there. His chest was rising and falling just as quickly as hers had been.
Something hot billowed inside her, rushing from her chest up her throat to her cheeks, and down over her belly to the very alive and awake little pearl hooded in its quim. Her heart slammed in her ribcage. She couldn’t swallow, her mouth was dry.
“Woman,” came a very hoarse whisper from the shadowy figure. His arm moved, sleek and muscular, gesturing toward her. Then his hand shifted, settling back into the shadow of his torso as if pointing to himself. “Man.”
Jane was still struggling for breath—a combination of arousal, shock, and mortification. But it took only a moment for her to realize that, surprisingly, she wasn’t frightened by his appearance—nor did she feel threatened as she had done with Kellan Darkdale.
She licked her lips nervously. She knew what she wanted. Oh,
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