Read Online Seized by Love by Susan Johnson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Susan Johnson
Ads: Link
do more to take a woman over the edge than twenty
minutes of the most ardent physical stimulation.
And the flush on Alisa's
cheeks was rising, a warm blush of color was spreading down her soft, white
heaving breasts.
"Follow me, sweet
angel," he murmured tenderly.
She was almost there. And
so was he.
Nikki held her crushed to
him, his arms wrapped tightly around her slender back, holding her impaled on
his rigid, engorged stiffness. His breathing was harsh and rapid, his warm
whispers brushed her ear, his masculine scent touched her nostrils, tendrils of
damp, dark curls clung to his forehead. He was fully roused, desperate for
relief, as if he hadn't had a woman for a long time. As if Tanya no longer
existed. Succumbing to his mounting passion, he rode the crest of his desire,
no longer restraining his passion, impatient for release. Alisa, too, with
guiltless wonder and a long-dormant sensuality abandoned herself to the full
glory of her desire. She returned Nikki's kisses wantonly, crushed her mouth
feverishly against his, ran her hands over his magnificent body, reveled in the
pressure of his firm, muscular frame, hard and demanding against her tender
flesh, voluptuously joined him in the selfish, sensual dance of love. She gave
herself to him, willingly opened her body for his pleasure, sobbed with a
passion too long deferred, keening a quiet, soft cry of rapture as he brought
her to an ecstasy she had never known, as he pressed against the mouth of her
womb and poured his warmth into her.
She knew in that
resplendent moment this was what she'd wanted from the first time she'd seen
him and caught that hungry look in those golden eyes; his strength, his
wildness, the feel of his powerful body on hers.
Her violet eyes opened
slowly and lifted to his, her eyelids heavy with a sweet, languorous memory,
and he realized as he gazed down on her beautiful flushed face how men could
feel the torturous self-doubts of jealousy. That drowsy, voluptuous, yielding
look, the curve of her full red lips, the heightened color, the gentle smile of
surfeit—she was a sated woman remembering her lover's caresses. To picture
another man plundering the soft riches of her luscious body evoked in him an
unfamiliar blaze of jealousy.
Alisa had seen lust in a
man's eyes; the fanatic, burning, frankly covetous eyes of her husband when he
stripped her or beat her, the surreptitious, carefully concealed lust in the
eyes of strangers. At this moment, however, Nikki's golden eyes shone not only
with a sensual desire, but also with tenderness as he marveled at the
magnificent beauty of the creature before him. He must have her. He would
gently teach her the pleasures of her senses, with deliberation rouse her,
delicately caress the graceful form and make her his. This beauty
must
be his…
For Alisa, who had only
been used, her body torn apart and abused by a selfish, brutal lust, Nikki's
glance of passionate tenderness drew her like a beacon of warmth in a cold,
black night.
Nikki kissed her lips
lightly and murmured as he moved off and lay beside her, propped up on one
elbow. "Thank you, love."
He ran a light finger down
her belly. "Do you feel content?"
Alisa smiled with a winsome
satisfaction, then nodded with a delightful, almost childish openness, putting
up her lips to be kissed again.
Her smile brought with it a
novel sense of triumph and, bending near, he moved to kiss her. "Sweet
nymph, we make a fine pair, Alisa," Nikki whispered as his lips touched
hers. She was everything and more than he'd imagined, a nymph, a bacchante,
with a natural wantonness that stirred his ardor.
Rising to his knees, he
gazed at her lying quietly with her thighs still slightly parted. The seductive
lure of Alisa's beauty, her compliant, provocative posture brought his manhood
standing proud.
"Look at me,
Alisa," Nikki said softly.
She looked at him,
embarrassment, shyness, desire all there in confusion, but kept her eyes
averted from his obviously
minutes of the most ardent physical stimulation.
And the flush on Alisa's
cheeks was rising, a warm blush of color was spreading down her soft, white
heaving breasts.
"Follow me, sweet
angel," he murmured tenderly.
She was almost there. And
so was he.
Nikki held her crushed to
him, his arms wrapped tightly around her slender back, holding her impaled on
his rigid, engorged stiffness. His breathing was harsh and rapid, his warm
whispers brushed her ear, his masculine scent touched her nostrils, tendrils of
damp, dark curls clung to his forehead. He was fully roused, desperate for
relief, as if he hadn't had a woman for a long time. As if Tanya no longer
existed. Succumbing to his mounting passion, he rode the crest of his desire,
no longer restraining his passion, impatient for release. Alisa, too, with
guiltless wonder and a long-dormant sensuality abandoned herself to the full
glory of her desire. She returned Nikki's kisses wantonly, crushed her mouth
feverishly against his, ran her hands over his magnificent body, reveled in the
pressure of his firm, muscular frame, hard and demanding against her tender
flesh, voluptuously joined him in the selfish, sensual dance of love. She gave
herself to him, willingly opened her body for his pleasure, sobbed with a
passion too long deferred, keening a quiet, soft cry of rapture as he brought
her to an ecstasy she had never known, as he pressed against the mouth of her
womb and poured his warmth into her.
She knew in that
resplendent moment this was what she'd wanted from the first time she'd seen
him and caught that hungry look in those golden eyes; his strength, his
wildness, the feel of his powerful body on hers.
Her violet eyes opened
slowly and lifted to his, her eyelids heavy with a sweet, languorous memory,
and he realized as he gazed down on her beautiful flushed face how men could
feel the torturous self-doubts of jealousy. That drowsy, voluptuous, yielding
look, the curve of her full red lips, the heightened color, the gentle smile of
surfeit—she was a sated woman remembering her lover's caresses. To picture
another man plundering the soft riches of her luscious body evoked in him an
unfamiliar blaze of jealousy.
Alisa had seen lust in a
man's eyes; the fanatic, burning, frankly covetous eyes of her husband when he
stripped her or beat her, the surreptitious, carefully concealed lust in the
eyes of strangers. At this moment, however, Nikki's golden eyes shone not only
with a sensual desire, but also with tenderness as he marveled at the
magnificent beauty of the creature before him. He must have her. He would
gently teach her the pleasures of her senses, with deliberation rouse her,
delicately caress the graceful form and make her his. This beauty
must
be his…
For Alisa, who had only
been used, her body torn apart and abused by a selfish, brutal lust, Nikki's
glance of passionate tenderness drew her like a beacon of warmth in a cold,
black night.
Nikki kissed her lips
lightly and murmured as he moved off and lay beside her, propped up on one
elbow. "Thank you, love."
He ran a light finger down
her belly. "Do you feel content?"
Alisa smiled with a winsome
satisfaction, then nodded with a delightful, almost childish openness, putting
up her lips to be kissed again.
Her smile brought with it a
novel sense of triumph and, bending near, he moved to kiss her. "Sweet
nymph, we make a fine pair, Alisa," Nikki whispered as his lips touched
hers. She was everything and more than he'd imagined, a nymph, a bacchante,
with a natural wantonness that stirred his ardor.
Rising to his knees, he
gazed at her lying quietly with her thighs still slightly parted. The seductive
lure of Alisa's beauty, her compliant, provocative posture brought his manhood
standing proud.
"Look at me,
Alisa," Nikki said softly.
She looked at him,
embarrassment, shyness, desire all there in confusion, but kept her eyes
averted from his obviously
Similar Books
