Read Online The Paler Shade of Autumn by Jacquie Underdown - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jacquie Underdown
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back and stomach, under her shirt. When he reaches her mouth again, he opens her lips with his own. She has never wanted anything more than to taste those sweet lips and tongue of his.
He whispers in a low, deep voice, “Let’s go to our room.”
Autumn nods, dazed with arousal.
Jet opens the door to the small room they are sharing. She peers at the two single beds, with well-worn yet clean bedding, almost touching due to the space constraints. Other than the beds, there is not much else in the room, just bare walls and an ancient looking wardrobe on the wall beside the door.
They step inside. Jet closes the door behind them and locks it. A pang of nerves, coupled with excitement, shoots from Autumn’s toes to her ears and she is suddenly feeling shy, vulnerable. A tight smile forms across her lips; she is unable to hold eye contact with those buttery gems of his.
Jet takes a confident step closer and pulls her by the waist into his body. “Are you nervous?” he asks, voice husky.
Autumn smiles. “A little.”
He runs his thumb along her full bottom lip causing her eyes to languidly close. “Don’t be,” he says leaning in and taking that very lip between his own, as though it is the tastiest morsel on the Earth.
Jet slides his hands over her body and relieves her of her shirt and bra. She hopes her body pleases him. She raises her eyes to him to seek his reaction. He holds her gaze for only a second until his eyes stray; linger on the curves of her body. His face transforms from a man with some guise of self-control to a man who is overwhelmed by the pleasures she is producing in him by visual perception alone.
He reaches for her shorts button; undoes it, followed by her zipper. His movements become achingly slow as he slides her shorts from her hips, as though he is unwrapping a delicate present and savouring the moment. Her shorts drop to the floor and she steps out of them, along with her sandals. She stands before him naked, but for her sensible, white-cotton g-string and the necklace from Darshan.
“Oh God, you’re so incredibly beautiful,” he says, his eyes lifting from her thighs, slowly to her face. He rips his shirt over his head and flings it across the room.
Autumn’s stomach pangs as she takes in the appearance of his toned chest and arms. Though she felt them earlier, she had no idea of the defined muscles he possesses. His skin is beautifully tanned, flawless apart from a dappling of freckles across his shoulders and a thin tuft of hair in the centre of his chest.
He tugs downwards on the band of her knickers, forces them from her hips. His body drifts down as he pulls her g-string lower, down her thighs, to her ankles, his face now only centimetres from her sex; so close, she can feel his warm breath against her skin. He presses his lips once against her fleshy mound. The sensation, the expectancy, stirs her inside, wets her, readies her.
Jet rises slowly to her breasts. He cups one with his hand, gathers it into his mouth. He sucks greedily on her nipple, flicking his tongue over the taut tip, sending bolts of pleasure through her breasts, to the deepest depths of her belly, and to the ripening crevice between her thighs.
Autumn rolls her head backwards and voices a breathy sigh of surrender, vocalising the newfound urgency of her desire. She reaches for his shorts’ draw-string, wanting to unleash that enormous bulge, unrelenting against the seam of his pants. Her fingers fumble; he helps her and slides his shorts off his hips to the floor.
Jet grasps her hips and leads her to the bed. They lie down, chest to chest. Jet’s body is warm, smooth. The size of his frame, his broad shoulders, long, strong arms, it all excites her. She takes her hand and runs it up the length of his stone-hard shaft from the base to the glistening tip; its rigidity, its size is what excites her most of all. She imagines its firm length thrusting deeply into her. Finally gone are the nerves she felt
He whispers in a low, deep voice, “Let’s go to our room.”
Autumn nods, dazed with arousal.
Jet opens the door to the small room they are sharing. She peers at the two single beds, with well-worn yet clean bedding, almost touching due to the space constraints. Other than the beds, there is not much else in the room, just bare walls and an ancient looking wardrobe on the wall beside the door.
They step inside. Jet closes the door behind them and locks it. A pang of nerves, coupled with excitement, shoots from Autumn’s toes to her ears and she is suddenly feeling shy, vulnerable. A tight smile forms across her lips; she is unable to hold eye contact with those buttery gems of his.
Jet takes a confident step closer and pulls her by the waist into his body. “Are you nervous?” he asks, voice husky.
Autumn smiles. “A little.”
He runs his thumb along her full bottom lip causing her eyes to languidly close. “Don’t be,” he says leaning in and taking that very lip between his own, as though it is the tastiest morsel on the Earth.
Jet slides his hands over her body and relieves her of her shirt and bra. She hopes her body pleases him. She raises her eyes to him to seek his reaction. He holds her gaze for only a second until his eyes stray; linger on the curves of her body. His face transforms from a man with some guise of self-control to a man who is overwhelmed by the pleasures she is producing in him by visual perception alone.
He reaches for her shorts button; undoes it, followed by her zipper. His movements become achingly slow as he slides her shorts from her hips, as though he is unwrapping a delicate present and savouring the moment. Her shorts drop to the floor and she steps out of them, along with her sandals. She stands before him naked, but for her sensible, white-cotton g-string and the necklace from Darshan.
“Oh God, you’re so incredibly beautiful,” he says, his eyes lifting from her thighs, slowly to her face. He rips his shirt over his head and flings it across the room.
Autumn’s stomach pangs as she takes in the appearance of his toned chest and arms. Though she felt them earlier, she had no idea of the defined muscles he possesses. His skin is beautifully tanned, flawless apart from a dappling of freckles across his shoulders and a thin tuft of hair in the centre of his chest.
He tugs downwards on the band of her knickers, forces them from her hips. His body drifts down as he pulls her g-string lower, down her thighs, to her ankles, his face now only centimetres from her sex; so close, she can feel his warm breath against her skin. He presses his lips once against her fleshy mound. The sensation, the expectancy, stirs her inside, wets her, readies her.
Jet rises slowly to her breasts. He cups one with his hand, gathers it into his mouth. He sucks greedily on her nipple, flicking his tongue over the taut tip, sending bolts of pleasure through her breasts, to the deepest depths of her belly, and to the ripening crevice between her thighs.
Autumn rolls her head backwards and voices a breathy sigh of surrender, vocalising the newfound urgency of her desire. She reaches for his shorts’ draw-string, wanting to unleash that enormous bulge, unrelenting against the seam of his pants. Her fingers fumble; he helps her and slides his shorts off his hips to the floor.
Jet grasps her hips and leads her to the bed. They lie down, chest to chest. Jet’s body is warm, smooth. The size of his frame, his broad shoulders, long, strong arms, it all excites her. She takes her hand and runs it up the length of his stone-hard shaft from the base to the glistening tip; its rigidity, its size is what excites her most of all. She imagines its firm length thrusting deeply into her. Finally gone are the nerves she felt
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