Read Online Immortal Heat by Lanette Curington - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lanette Curington
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free. Her fingers trailed through the hair on his chest while her lips and tongue worked frantically with his, as if she too wanted to devour and consume him.
He placed kisses down to the curve where neck and shoulder met and along the ridge of bone to the swell of breast. Generously, he wet each rosy tip, swirling his tongue until they were taut peaks and her breathing was heavy.
Sitting back on his heels, he sprinkled sand on her dampened nipples, then his thumbs massaged the grit against them. Aglaia gasped, her body writhing beneath him, her hips surging in invitation.
He wanted to plunge into her, but he was so near to bursting, he knew he would only manage a few strokes before going over the edge. He tried to temper his arousal, but as his hands ran along her body, down her luscious curves and the flare of her hips, and through the tangle of flame red curls where her legs spread apart, he only grew harder.
He slipped a finger into her warm honey, and her hips rose until his thumb rested on the swollen nub. He felt her shudder with pleasure as he swirled his thumb and pushed another finger deeper into her heat.
She moaned, eyes closed, head tossing back and forth. Her hands couldn't remain still and she ran them over her breasts and down her ribs and back again. He watched her repeat the fondling again and again as he continued the swirling of his thumb and the pumping of his fingers.
"Please, Hephaestus, now..."
Her plea was his last link to sanity. He merely pushed aside his underlinen and, raising her hips, slid into her incredibly hot, wet cleft.
The first backstroke nearly undid him. He drove in again and paused as she pulled at him. A few more strokes, pressing his hips hard against her, he felt her ripple around him and her back arched, her hands clenching clumps of grass as a shudder passed through her. Then he was gone, unaware of anything except roaring into the flames of eternity.
Their sweat-slicked skin, coated with a fine dusting of sand, gritted together as he fell on his side. Aglaia moved with him, her limbs tangling with his. Their greaves clanged together, and she laughed, breathless, flushed with the afterglow of the passion he had stirred in her. She swept back her hair, resting her cheek on his chest, and his arm went around her, holding her close. Their breathing evened.
Hephaestus rubbed his chin against her bright hair. He could now admit that with Aglaia in his arms he was happier than he had ever been.
* * * * *
Phlius scaled the craggy rocks and stopped near the top to rest. He scavenged many stretches of shore on the island, but he'd rarely been to this isolated cove. It was out of the way and hard to reach, but scavenging was a poor business these days. Sometimes the sea could wash up interesting treasures, but lately it seemed to give up nothing worthwhile. He wondered if he'd offended Poseidon in some way. He would have to make a special sacrifice to the god of the sea, just in case.
Time to get up and move along. The day wasn't getting any younger and neither was he. He climbed to the top and instinctively became as still as the rocks around him when he saw movement below on the sand. His ability to blend into his surroundings had saved him more than once.
A man who looked as tall as Croco, but not quite as broad, carried a woman across the stretch of sand. Phlius swallowed hard. She looked like the woman he and Croco had tossed into the sea at the queen's command a few days ago. He never forgot a face, and his eyesight was excellent. But even if he might be mistaken, he would never forget the fiery red color of her hair. The man stopped to kiss her and it lasted an extraordinarily long time. Phlius took his chance and dropped to the rocks behind him, skinning his knees and bruising an elbow, but not caring as he scrambled down and away.
Part of him was relieved the lady
He placed kisses down to the curve where neck and shoulder met and along the ridge of bone to the swell of breast. Generously, he wet each rosy tip, swirling his tongue until they were taut peaks and her breathing was heavy.
Sitting back on his heels, he sprinkled sand on her dampened nipples, then his thumbs massaged the grit against them. Aglaia gasped, her body writhing beneath him, her hips surging in invitation.
He wanted to plunge into her, but he was so near to bursting, he knew he would only manage a few strokes before going over the edge. He tried to temper his arousal, but as his hands ran along her body, down her luscious curves and the flare of her hips, and through the tangle of flame red curls where her legs spread apart, he only grew harder.
He slipped a finger into her warm honey, and her hips rose until his thumb rested on the swollen nub. He felt her shudder with pleasure as he swirled his thumb and pushed another finger deeper into her heat.
She moaned, eyes closed, head tossing back and forth. Her hands couldn't remain still and she ran them over her breasts and down her ribs and back again. He watched her repeat the fondling again and again as he continued the swirling of his thumb and the pumping of his fingers.
"Please, Hephaestus, now..."
Her plea was his last link to sanity. He merely pushed aside his underlinen and, raising her hips, slid into her incredibly hot, wet cleft.
The first backstroke nearly undid him. He drove in again and paused as she pulled at him. A few more strokes, pressing his hips hard against her, he felt her ripple around him and her back arched, her hands clenching clumps of grass as a shudder passed through her. Then he was gone, unaware of anything except roaring into the flames of eternity.
Their sweat-slicked skin, coated with a fine dusting of sand, gritted together as he fell on his side. Aglaia moved with him, her limbs tangling with his. Their greaves clanged together, and she laughed, breathless, flushed with the afterglow of the passion he had stirred in her. She swept back her hair, resting her cheek on his chest, and his arm went around her, holding her close. Their breathing evened.
Hephaestus rubbed his chin against her bright hair. He could now admit that with Aglaia in his arms he was happier than he had ever been.
* * * * *
Phlius scaled the craggy rocks and stopped near the top to rest. He scavenged many stretches of shore on the island, but he'd rarely been to this isolated cove. It was out of the way and hard to reach, but scavenging was a poor business these days. Sometimes the sea could wash up interesting treasures, but lately it seemed to give up nothing worthwhile. He wondered if he'd offended Poseidon in some way. He would have to make a special sacrifice to the god of the sea, just in case.
Time to get up and move along. The day wasn't getting any younger and neither was he. He climbed to the top and instinctively became as still as the rocks around him when he saw movement below on the sand. His ability to blend into his surroundings had saved him more than once.
A man who looked as tall as Croco, but not quite as broad, carried a woman across the stretch of sand. Phlius swallowed hard. She looked like the woman he and Croco had tossed into the sea at the queen's command a few days ago. He never forgot a face, and his eyesight was excellent. But even if he might be mistaken, he would never forget the fiery red color of her hair. The man stopped to kiss her and it lasted an extraordinarily long time. Phlius took his chance and dropped to the rocks behind him, skinning his knees and bruising an elbow, but not caring as he scrambled down and away.
Part of him was relieved the lady
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