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Authors: Dawn Thompson
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her eyes, she called the dark lord’s image to mind. She relived the hot, thick hardness of his engorged shaft thrusting between her thighs, parting the pubic curls. She felt it leaning against the erect bud she was fondling now, until her whole mons area felt swollen, and a rhythmic throbbing began deep inside at the epicenter of her sex.
Warm rushes of orgasmic fire teased her belly and rippled through her thighs as she writhed against her stroking fingers. Arching her back, she leaned into the friction, reliving his kiss, the hot touch of his massive hands cupping her breasts in the steamy mineral water, the unstoppable ecstasy of their bodies rubbing together naked skin to naked skin. She could not get enough of it—of him.
A troop of husky pleasure moans escaped her throat on the verge of climax. Hot blood thrumming through her veins rushed to her temples. Her whole body throbbed like a pulse beat as she imagined his shaft gliding between her legs, igniting her sex like a lit torch as he brought her to orgasm.
Opening the neck of her kirtle, she spread it wide and strummed her nipples erect, first one and then the other. Something tugged deep inside her, something ravenous, gnawing at her senses until she could bear no more, until every nerve ending in her body screamed for release that only he could give.
Guilty pleasure overwhelmed her, but the guilt was only in that she celebrated such ecstasy alone. She may be able to conjure his image, but there was no substitute for the man or beast, creature or celestial being, for she did not know how to call him. Still, oh, still, her hips jerked forward, her fingertips, dampened with her juices, glided over her sex. Her breath came short and labored, and she was his again….
The orgasm pounded through her in great, wide-reaching ripples that nearly stopped her breathing altogether, or was she holding her breath to savor every last delicious dram of sweet sensation? She had touched herself many times before, but it had never been anything like this. But then, never before did she have an image to conjure while she pleasured herself, or a guide to pleasures unknown and unexperienced. Gideon, Lord of the Dark had opened her like a flower to what could be, and he hadn’t even come inside her. What would that be like? Palpitations fluttered through her at the thought of it, and she curled on her side, like a babe in the womb, and let her rapid breathing become shallow and deep again.
Release was sweet, but there was no warm, fuzzy feeling of fulfillment, no contentment in her solitary satisfaction. She felt empty—hollow inside, ashamed—as if someone else had crawled inside her body, and at the same time she felt as seductive as any siren. She was definitely not herself, whoever that was. She hardly knew anymore, nor was she brave enough to find out…at least not then. It was all too new to her.
Swinging her bare feet over the side of the bed, she climbed out of it and padded to the wardrobe in search of shoes. There had to be something…yes, a fine pair of soft leather slippers just her size. Slipping them on, she made a mental note to ask him who all these fine clothes belonged to, when they spoke again.
She went to the door and flung it wide. No trace of the storm remained. The sun was shining brightly down, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The air smelled salty sweet and inviting. She breathed it in deeply. What harm to take a brief stroll about? She would stay close to the cave just in case, though she was certain his concerns in that regard were a bit excessive. Without a second thought, she stepped out into the sunlit morning.
She had already seen the strand, and the strange petrified forest that edged the marshes. She decided instead to go north beyond the wood, where the land sloped down toward the remains of the keep Gideon had told her about. Taking this tack, she could keep the cave in sight, and reach it quickly if needs must.
There was a narrow
Warm rushes of orgasmic fire teased her belly and rippled through her thighs as she writhed against her stroking fingers. Arching her back, she leaned into the friction, reliving his kiss, the hot touch of his massive hands cupping her breasts in the steamy mineral water, the unstoppable ecstasy of their bodies rubbing together naked skin to naked skin. She could not get enough of it—of him.
A troop of husky pleasure moans escaped her throat on the verge of climax. Hot blood thrumming through her veins rushed to her temples. Her whole body throbbed like a pulse beat as she imagined his shaft gliding between her legs, igniting her sex like a lit torch as he brought her to orgasm.
Opening the neck of her kirtle, she spread it wide and strummed her nipples erect, first one and then the other. Something tugged deep inside her, something ravenous, gnawing at her senses until she could bear no more, until every nerve ending in her body screamed for release that only he could give.
Guilty pleasure overwhelmed her, but the guilt was only in that she celebrated such ecstasy alone. She may be able to conjure his image, but there was no substitute for the man or beast, creature or celestial being, for she did not know how to call him. Still, oh, still, her hips jerked forward, her fingertips, dampened with her juices, glided over her sex. Her breath came short and labored, and she was his again….
The orgasm pounded through her in great, wide-reaching ripples that nearly stopped her breathing altogether, or was she holding her breath to savor every last delicious dram of sweet sensation? She had touched herself many times before, but it had never been anything like this. But then, never before did she have an image to conjure while she pleasured herself, or a guide to pleasures unknown and unexperienced. Gideon, Lord of the Dark had opened her like a flower to what could be, and he hadn’t even come inside her. What would that be like? Palpitations fluttered through her at the thought of it, and she curled on her side, like a babe in the womb, and let her rapid breathing become shallow and deep again.
Release was sweet, but there was no warm, fuzzy feeling of fulfillment, no contentment in her solitary satisfaction. She felt empty—hollow inside, ashamed—as if someone else had crawled inside her body, and at the same time she felt as seductive as any siren. She was definitely not herself, whoever that was. She hardly knew anymore, nor was she brave enough to find out…at least not then. It was all too new to her.
Swinging her bare feet over the side of the bed, she climbed out of it and padded to the wardrobe in search of shoes. There had to be something…yes, a fine pair of soft leather slippers just her size. Slipping them on, she made a mental note to ask him who all these fine clothes belonged to, when they spoke again.
She went to the door and flung it wide. No trace of the storm remained. The sun was shining brightly down, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The air smelled salty sweet and inviting. She breathed it in deeply. What harm to take a brief stroll about? She would stay close to the cave just in case, though she was certain his concerns in that regard were a bit excessive. Without a second thought, she stepped out into the sunlit morning.
She had already seen the strand, and the strange petrified forest that edged the marshes. She decided instead to go north beyond the wood, where the land sloped down toward the remains of the keep Gideon had told her about. Taking this tack, she could keep the cave in sight, and reach it quickly if needs must.
There was a narrow
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