chest heaved and shuddered as the waves continued to flush through her.
Brice eased his way up her body, capturing her legs over his arms and bringing them up to his chest as the hard tip of his penis pressed against the hot, wet opening and dipped down inside.
The instant was so explosive that they both erupted in a duel of sound. Shivers ran up Briceâs spine as her warmth enveloped him and gently squeezed. He couldnât move, the sensation was too incredible to risk losing even for an instant; but instinct took over. The human need for satisfaction, for wanting more of something good, pushed him in and out and out and in. Deep and not so deep, slow but fast. Whatever it took to keep her calling his name, her fingers in his back, her legs locked around his hips, her breasts pressed to his chest, her lips melded with his. Whatever it took.
Tears of unimaginable pleasure hung from the corners of Naomiâs eyes. The weight and length of Brice filled her in a way that she could not explain. It was not just her body that heâd entered, it was her soul. She opened not just her legs to him, but that space of who she was as a woman. And without a doubt, he put his stamp on it. His every move inside her, above her, along her, was beyond sweet. Heâdtaken her there . But what was more frightening, more tantalizing to realize, was that with each stroke, every rotation of his hips, every time he hit her spot with the head of his dick, she knew there was more to come. She could feel it ascend from the balls of her feet and slide up the inside of her legs, making her entire body quake. Then it moved upward to her belly, and spread like wildfire to her arms her fingertips. And all of that energy, all of that feel-good shot to her vagina and shook it like a rag doll, tossing her from this place on earth to somewhere beyond the stars. She felt Briceâs strong arms slide beneath her to hold her as he pushed deeper while her climax intensified, the grip and release so powerful that it sucked the essence from Brice with such force that he felt electrified, his cry strangled in his throat, his body a live wire of feeling that splashed a stream of relief to cool their flames.
Â
Naomi could hear her pulse still pounding in her temples as her racing heart began to slow and the tremors began to ease. She held on to the life raft of Briceâs strong back to keep from going adrift. His embrace was secure and comforting, and a part of her knew this was who Brice Lawrence was. At the core of him, he was secure and comforting and oh, so loving.
He tenderly kissed the tiny pulse beat in her throat, and with much regret pulled out of her hold on him and rolled onto his back. He slid his arm beneath herand pulled her close. Naomi nestled against him and, lulled by the steady beat of his heart, drifted off into a deep, satisfied sleep.
Chapter 7
W hen Brice stirred, his first coherent thought was that what had happened between him and Naomi had to have been a dream. Nothing in this world could have been that magnificent. And when he opened his eyes and looked at the empty space next to him, he began to feel that maybe he did dream it all. But that would not account for the throb in his groin or the dampness of his body and the twisted sheets.
He drew in a breath and pushed himself up onto his elbow and tried to make out the shapes in the room. He looked toward the terrace, and reflecting the light of the moon was a body huddled in a chair.
He sat up fully, tossed his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He grabbed the sheet and gathered itaround his waist, crossed the room and opened the terrace doors and stepped outside.
Naomi looked up, and Brice would have swore that her expression was almost angelic, as if she might not be real, but some exquisite apparition that heâd conjured. So he reached out and touched her hair to scatter any doubts. She clasped his hand and brought it to her cheek.
Brice swung down
Brice eased his way up her body, capturing her legs over his arms and bringing them up to his chest as the hard tip of his penis pressed against the hot, wet opening and dipped down inside.
The instant was so explosive that they both erupted in a duel of sound. Shivers ran up Briceâs spine as her warmth enveloped him and gently squeezed. He couldnât move, the sensation was too incredible to risk losing even for an instant; but instinct took over. The human need for satisfaction, for wanting more of something good, pushed him in and out and out and in. Deep and not so deep, slow but fast. Whatever it took to keep her calling his name, her fingers in his back, her legs locked around his hips, her breasts pressed to his chest, her lips melded with his. Whatever it took.
Tears of unimaginable pleasure hung from the corners of Naomiâs eyes. The weight and length of Brice filled her in a way that she could not explain. It was not just her body that heâd entered, it was her soul. She opened not just her legs to him, but that space of who she was as a woman. And without a doubt, he put his stamp on it. His every move inside her, above her, along her, was beyond sweet. Heâdtaken her there . But what was more frightening, more tantalizing to realize, was that with each stroke, every rotation of his hips, every time he hit her spot with the head of his dick, she knew there was more to come. She could feel it ascend from the balls of her feet and slide up the inside of her legs, making her entire body quake. Then it moved upward to her belly, and spread like wildfire to her arms her fingertips. And all of that energy, all of that feel-good shot to her vagina and shook it like a rag doll, tossing her from this place on earth to somewhere beyond the stars. She felt Briceâs strong arms slide beneath her to hold her as he pushed deeper while her climax intensified, the grip and release so powerful that it sucked the essence from Brice with such force that he felt electrified, his cry strangled in his throat, his body a live wire of feeling that splashed a stream of relief to cool their flames.
Â
Naomi could hear her pulse still pounding in her temples as her racing heart began to slow and the tremors began to ease. She held on to the life raft of Briceâs strong back to keep from going adrift. His embrace was secure and comforting, and a part of her knew this was who Brice Lawrence was. At the core of him, he was secure and comforting and oh, so loving.
He tenderly kissed the tiny pulse beat in her throat, and with much regret pulled out of her hold on him and rolled onto his back. He slid his arm beneath herand pulled her close. Naomi nestled against him and, lulled by the steady beat of his heart, drifted off into a deep, satisfied sleep.
Chapter 7
W hen Brice stirred, his first coherent thought was that what had happened between him and Naomi had to have been a dream. Nothing in this world could have been that magnificent. And when he opened his eyes and looked at the empty space next to him, he began to feel that maybe he did dream it all. But that would not account for the throb in his groin or the dampness of his body and the twisted sheets.
He drew in a breath and pushed himself up onto his elbow and tried to make out the shapes in the room. He looked toward the terrace, and reflecting the light of the moon was a body huddled in a chair.
He sat up fully, tossed his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He grabbed the sheet and gathered itaround his waist, crossed the room and opened the terrace doors and stepped outside.
Naomi looked up, and Brice would have swore that her expression was almost angelic, as if she might not be real, but some exquisite apparition that heâd conjured. So he reached out and touched her hair to scatter any doubts. She clasped his hand and brought it to her cheek.
Brice swung down
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