Read Online Pussycat Death Squad by Roslyn Hardy Holcomb - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Roslyn Hardy Holcomb
Tags: Erótica
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you understood.”
“I did understand, at least I did until you came here. You said yourself you knew I'd be here.”
Lelia shook her head in apparent frustration. “I know. I'm sorry.” She rose from the mat and scurried from the gym.
Patrick remained seated, watching as the glass door swung for a moment from the force of her exit. Then he flopped back down on the mat, an arm folded across his eyes. All that, and all she had to say was “sorry”?
* * *
Lelia lay on her bed staring up at the acoustic tile ceiling. Her body still throbbed with longing for what she knew Patrick could give her: sex, and lots of it. Mind-blowing, toe-curling, throw-your-knickers-away sex. She moved her hand up to stroke her breast; memories of him sucking it into his mouth didn't calm her ache at all. Over and over again she'd heard other soldiers speculate about the pleasures to be found in a man's arms. Certainly she had all the normal urges of a twenty-eight-year-old woman, but until she'd met Patrick, she'd never even been tempted. Now she realized she'd been so sheltered that there was no possibility of temptation. Would she have responded so strongly to any man she encountered? She shook her head immediately in response to that thought. The Colonel always had men about; all his aides and various ministers were male, and some of them were quite handsome.
This was wrong on so many levels. She wasn't even supposed to be alone with Patrick, let alone engaging in any type of physical contact like they had tonight. No wonder dating was so strongly prohibited. She didn't see how it couldn't lead to Zina . Right now it was all she could do to recall that premarital sex was forbidden. She could still feel his warm body pressed against her own, and couldn't stop wondering what would have happened if she'd allowed the situation to go further? Hot images of his naked flesh against hers left her aching and longing for more. Recalling the velvety feel of his stiff penis throbbing in her hand made her desperate to feel him deep inside. She searched for a prayer that would calm her mind and help her get past this, but all her senses were saturated with his smell, his taste—the everything of him—and she was lost. She groaned aloud in disgust.
Was she really so weak that she would fold at the very first temptation she encountered? Forget faith and oath for nothing but sexual gratification? For she had no doubt that it was nothing more than that. The barriers between them were far too vast to be overcome, even if Patrick were inclined to do so. Nothing in his demeanor indicated that he was interested in anything more than a sexual relationship. Of course, she wasn't convinced that she wanted anything more either, but it would probably sit on her conscience better if it were about more than sex. But he'd have to convert to Islam before they could be married, and she couldn't imagine an American marine even considering such a thing. Marriage! She rolled her eyes. Amazing where a woman's overactive imagination could take her. Why on earth was she trying to turn their relationship into something more than it was? It didn't help her pride any to know that she had succumbed to what she'd feared happening to her greenest soldiers.
She rolled over on the bed, trying to be quiet so as not to awaken Astaria, who was sleeping on the other side of the room. She didn't need a clock to tell her that it was three in the morning, nor did she doubt that this would be a totally sleepless night.
* * *
Lelia rushed down the long corridor, a sheaf of papers clutched in her hands. One of her soldiers had been injured in training that morning, and in the way of the military everywhere, she had to complete a stack of forms explaining what was a very minor incident. She'd almost reached the ready room when a wave of awareness made her look up. Her other senses told her before her eyes did that Patrick was coming from the opposite
“I did understand, at least I did until you came here. You said yourself you knew I'd be here.”
Lelia shook her head in apparent frustration. “I know. I'm sorry.” She rose from the mat and scurried from the gym.
Patrick remained seated, watching as the glass door swung for a moment from the force of her exit. Then he flopped back down on the mat, an arm folded across his eyes. All that, and all she had to say was “sorry”?
* * *
Lelia lay on her bed staring up at the acoustic tile ceiling. Her body still throbbed with longing for what she knew Patrick could give her: sex, and lots of it. Mind-blowing, toe-curling, throw-your-knickers-away sex. She moved her hand up to stroke her breast; memories of him sucking it into his mouth didn't calm her ache at all. Over and over again she'd heard other soldiers speculate about the pleasures to be found in a man's arms. Certainly she had all the normal urges of a twenty-eight-year-old woman, but until she'd met Patrick, she'd never even been tempted. Now she realized she'd been so sheltered that there was no possibility of temptation. Would she have responded so strongly to any man she encountered? She shook her head immediately in response to that thought. The Colonel always had men about; all his aides and various ministers were male, and some of them were quite handsome.
This was wrong on so many levels. She wasn't even supposed to be alone with Patrick, let alone engaging in any type of physical contact like they had tonight. No wonder dating was so strongly prohibited. She didn't see how it couldn't lead to Zina . Right now it was all she could do to recall that premarital sex was forbidden. She could still feel his warm body pressed against her own, and couldn't stop wondering what would have happened if she'd allowed the situation to go further? Hot images of his naked flesh against hers left her aching and longing for more. Recalling the velvety feel of his stiff penis throbbing in her hand made her desperate to feel him deep inside. She searched for a prayer that would calm her mind and help her get past this, but all her senses were saturated with his smell, his taste—the everything of him—and she was lost. She groaned aloud in disgust.
Was she really so weak that she would fold at the very first temptation she encountered? Forget faith and oath for nothing but sexual gratification? For she had no doubt that it was nothing more than that. The barriers between them were far too vast to be overcome, even if Patrick were inclined to do so. Nothing in his demeanor indicated that he was interested in anything more than a sexual relationship. Of course, she wasn't convinced that she wanted anything more either, but it would probably sit on her conscience better if it were about more than sex. But he'd have to convert to Islam before they could be married, and she couldn't imagine an American marine even considering such a thing. Marriage! She rolled her eyes. Amazing where a woman's overactive imagination could take her. Why on earth was she trying to turn their relationship into something more than it was? It didn't help her pride any to know that she had succumbed to what she'd feared happening to her greenest soldiers.
She rolled over on the bed, trying to be quiet so as not to awaken Astaria, who was sleeping on the other side of the room. She didn't need a clock to tell her that it was three in the morning, nor did she doubt that this would be a totally sleepless night.
* * *
Lelia rushed down the long corridor, a sheaf of papers clutched in her hands. One of her soldiers had been injured in training that morning, and in the way of the military everywhere, she had to complete a stack of forms explaining what was a very minor incident. She'd almost reached the ready room when a wave of awareness made her look up. Her other senses told her before her eyes did that Patrick was coming from the opposite
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