Practice for love scenes in the new books. Dirty, adult content. Skip if its not your thing. Back to normal commentary tomorrow. I hope.
Serioudly. this is not for a child's eyes.
Have a naughty night friends. I know I will.
Her eyes were perfect. The shimmered in the dark like two candles lighting me down a darkened hallway to the bed I found myself laying on. They were deep and full of promises. They were all promises I'd hope she kept.
Her lips were heaven. They were soft and warm and wet. I sighed as she stroked them over mind, quickly, teasing me, making me want more. The press of them grew harder, rougher, and I could feel her breath hot against my mouth, filling it with the heat of her desire. Her tongue was candy as it slipped inside me, stroking me everywhere and tempting me to more wicked things.
I slid her fingers inside my mouth, they were salt and warm and tasted like me and her together. Licking at them, sucking them, I felt more wanton than I ever had before. Our exchange perfect, mouths close fingers moving in and out of eachothers mouths. I couldn't stop it, I didn't want to.
She streaked the wetness from my mouth and hers down my cheeks and twined our hands together as she pulled me below her. She never let go, not for a moment, as she spilled her body over mine. She pressed hard into me, as I lay there, helpless beneath her, wanting her to take me, top me, in a way I had never felt before.
I knew, in that moment, my surrender was imminent.
She stripped me bare. There is no other way to put it. I lay bemeath her as she pulled me free of everything that kept me from her. I shivered; from the cold air against my body, from the look in her eyes and the power she had over me. I wanted to give it up.
Her hands were gentle, infinately gentle as she stroked my face, looking down at me like I was a work of art, a picture she wanted to preserve in her mind for all her life. She moved down, my neck and my collarbone receiving similar attentions, as though she were memorizing every part of me, as though she never wanted to forget. I hoped she wouldn't.
I hoped she wouldn't forget, but recall it again and again as she stroked my breasts and teased me to the point of begging and whimpering. "Please, please, please," it was all I could say, a single, echoing refrain in my head that spilled past my lips before I could stop it.
Her legs were strong, so strong as she held me down with them, lowering herself so she could lick and kiss the places she was touching. My mind loosed, and all I saw was a swirl of color and emotion behind my eyes as they fluttered open and shut. Her hair was soft as I tangled my hands in it, drawing her yet closer to me again.
But it was her skin, the warm sensual heat of her body that finally sent me to the edge. Her breasts against mine, her stomach hot and firm against me, it was all of my yearnings in a single movement, as she slid over and down me. There was nothing in that moment, nothing but the strength of her arms and the touch of her body all over me, as I began my refrain again.
Please. Please. Please.
If there was a moment to beg, this one seemed perfect. If there was a moment to lose it all, this was it. I couldn't wait, not a second longer, for her to take me.
My hands slid over her body, down her back- screatching as I went. I grabbed her and pulled her firmly against me. Her wet, perfect heat was almost more than I could bear. The feeling of her push and release was all I could have wanted, all I hoped for, and yet so far from the release I was wanting.
Her hands, finally, finally, moved into me, and I knew completion at last. She and I, joined together, that was perfection. That was true pleasure. Her golden, husky voice whispering in my ear of my beauty, her need for me, and how I felt- it was everything. I echoed her, I called back to her, as she moved. Her hips and hands and breasts never stopped, her mouth at once on my neck, my mouth, my shoulders and my ears.
Please. Please. Please.
There was a moment I felt it. There was a perfect, golden glowing ball of heat growing inside me and she was stroking it and playing with it like it was her own. She owned that spot, she owned me, and she wasn't going to let that ball break open until she was ready.
I begged for her, hour after hour. I cried for her, wept tears of pleading and passion. I could feel her love for me with every stoke, every kiss, every moment she delayed me. I was dying in her arms, but there was life; every part of me was awake and dancing and screaming for more of her.
Fill me, fill me again. Give me more and more. I begged her. There was her, and more of her, and at last everything. Her hands, her mouth, her body were inside me, completely.
I could feel the moment she released me. I could hear it in her voice. "You belong to me now." I couldn't dispute it as I rode wave after wave of pleasure and passion for her. I gave in to her, every second of it, and when at last, finally, there was no more of me to give her; she fell back and a wept.
As I cried for her, soft gentle tears, she stroked me, petted me and told me of my perfection. Her tongue was soft, gentle as she licked the dampness of my neck and stomach. She drank me in, tasted all of my pleasure. She dipped her head between my legs, and there I found how truly hers I was.
Gently, softly, slowly, patiently, she moved her mouth over me and brought me again. This time with love, this time with all the softness that her strength could afford her. As I shivered and shuddered under her velvet kiss, I felt myself move beyond my body and into the gleam of her perfect gaze.
Finished, wasted, completely her own, she let me hold onto her. She was my breath. She was my heartbeat. She was my pleasure.
Last night, she was my muse.