whole new world of sensation, one where touch and sound and scent were all that existed.
There was no sight, nothing to see. And no taste either. Her blindly questing mouth couldn't quite seem to make contact with him. Then her hands were anchored by her hips, her legs spread wide and her head was thrashing, her hips rolling as she tried to escape his searching tongue.
She couldn't escape him—did she really want to?— and slowly, so slowly he explored her. He laved her thighs, swirled warm breath over her nipples, licked, sucked and probed until he knew every part of her intimately. Once he'd discovered where she was most sensitive, he set about torturing her with his newfound knowledge. Her ears were filled with the sound of his ragged breathing, their frantic heartbeats, and her own moans and cries. She heard herself whimpering, begging, and still he continued. His head had finally settled between her legs, apparently content to let his tongue wreak havoc with her self-control.
It was a particularly loud moan that woke her up. She'd started to push herself upright, wanting to see the normality of her bedroom surrounding her—and couldn't.
Her wrists were anchored to the bed, her fingers kneading the sheet. Her legs were spread wide, her knees bent over Nate's shoulders, and her body was writhing as she strived to gain release from his sensual torment. His face was buried between her legs and his appreciative little grunts of approval were sending heady vibrations racing through her
blood.
She'd been able to feel the heat gathering under her skin, had almost heard the electric sizzles as her nerves jumped and all her senses centered on the spot where his tongue was tracing lazy spirals, apparently waiting for her to regain her senses. As much of them as he was willing to let her cling to, that was.
Satisfied she was awake, his tongue had delved deeper, invading her pussy at the same time he used his teeth to grab her clit. Slowly, stretching her for every last second of pleasure, he'd bitten down, and she'd exploded. Before she'd floated back to earth he'd been inside her again, his cock easing in as he pushed himself deep.
She'd felt his cooler saliva mixing with her own cum, its warmth flowing down her leg and over her ass. It had drenched the sheet under her, puddling in the depression made by her buttocks, and—for once—she hadn't been embarrassed. He'd whispered in her ear, praised her, incited her, desired her, wanted her.
Rough.
Dirty.
Messy .
Was that what sex was like with the right person? A little bit of adolescent groping and fondling, a few not-very-satisfactory thrusts, then it was all over. That was sex. Wasn't it?
And yet with Nate…she'd loved it. She'd never imagined feeling so completely fulfilled. Or so at ease with a stranger. And that was pretty well what Nate was to her. A stranger. She'd met him, what—two days ago? So how could she feel so close to him
already?
Gina pushed her coffee aside, folded her arms and collapsed onto the table, wrinkling her nose at the slightly chemical smell of the polish she normally used. Obviously, she hadn't spent enough time with her nose pressed into the woodwork, otherwise she'd have changed to something a little less…pungent. Still, now she was here, she was too tired to even think about moving again, let alone actually lifting her head. God, she was tired. Exhausted.
It seemed like hours later when she lifted her head, twisting irritably to straighten out the crick in her neck. Fancy falling asleep at the kitchen table! She'd put her head down, thinking to have a few minutes' rest, and had fallen into a deep sleep. Goodness, he'd worked her over last night. Gina's lips twisted at the thought. Heck, it had been good.
A light breeze ruffled her hair, just like gentle fingers teasing it away from her scalp. It filled the kitchen with the scent of
There was no sight, nothing to see. And no taste either. Her blindly questing mouth couldn't quite seem to make contact with him. Then her hands were anchored by her hips, her legs spread wide and her head was thrashing, her hips rolling as she tried to escape his searching tongue.
She couldn't escape him—did she really want to?— and slowly, so slowly he explored her. He laved her thighs, swirled warm breath over her nipples, licked, sucked and probed until he knew every part of her intimately. Once he'd discovered where she was most sensitive, he set about torturing her with his newfound knowledge. Her ears were filled with the sound of his ragged breathing, their frantic heartbeats, and her own moans and cries. She heard herself whimpering, begging, and still he continued. His head had finally settled between her legs, apparently content to let his tongue wreak havoc with her self-control.
It was a particularly loud moan that woke her up. She'd started to push herself upright, wanting to see the normality of her bedroom surrounding her—and couldn't.
Her wrists were anchored to the bed, her fingers kneading the sheet. Her legs were spread wide, her knees bent over Nate's shoulders, and her body was writhing as she strived to gain release from his sensual torment. His face was buried between her legs and his appreciative little grunts of approval were sending heady vibrations racing through her
blood.
She'd been able to feel the heat gathering under her skin, had almost heard the electric sizzles as her nerves jumped and all her senses centered on the spot where his tongue was tracing lazy spirals, apparently waiting for her to regain her senses. As much of them as he was willing to let her cling to, that was.
Satisfied she was awake, his tongue had delved deeper, invading her pussy at the same time he used his teeth to grab her clit. Slowly, stretching her for every last second of pleasure, he'd bitten down, and she'd exploded. Before she'd floated back to earth he'd been inside her again, his cock easing in as he pushed himself deep.
She'd felt his cooler saliva mixing with her own cum, its warmth flowing down her leg and over her ass. It had drenched the sheet under her, puddling in the depression made by her buttocks, and—for once—she hadn't been embarrassed. He'd whispered in her ear, praised her, incited her, desired her, wanted her.
Rough.
Dirty.
Messy .
Was that what sex was like with the right person? A little bit of adolescent groping and fondling, a few not-very-satisfactory thrusts, then it was all over. That was sex. Wasn't it?
And yet with Nate…she'd loved it. She'd never imagined feeling so completely fulfilled. Or so at ease with a stranger. And that was pretty well what Nate was to her. A stranger. She'd met him, what—two days ago? So how could she feel so close to him
already?
Gina pushed her coffee aside, folded her arms and collapsed onto the table, wrinkling her nose at the slightly chemical smell of the polish she normally used. Obviously, she hadn't spent enough time with her nose pressed into the woodwork, otherwise she'd have changed to something a little less…pungent. Still, now she was here, she was too tired to even think about moving again, let alone actually lifting her head. God, she was tired. Exhausted.
It seemed like hours later when she lifted her head, twisting irritably to straighten out the crick in her neck. Fancy falling asleep at the kitchen table! She'd put her head down, thinking to have a few minutes' rest, and had fallen into a deep sleep. Goodness, he'd worked her over last night. Gina's lips twisted at the thought. Heck, it had been good.
A light breeze ruffled her hair, just like gentle fingers teasing it away from her scalp. It filled the kitchen with the scent of
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