The Centurions Trilogy by Damion Hunter

Author:Damion Hunter [Hunter, Damion]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

When the dinner was over, the last guest departed and the last pot scrubbed, Emer hung her dishcloth up on a hook and gave the kitchen a final look. The lamps were almost guttered, and the moon was coming in through the open door. The dormice rustled sleepily in their pot. The kitchen cat gave them a perfunctory glance – she knew there was a wire screen across the top – and trotted purposefully into the garden. Emer closed the door behind her and went out through the cabbage rows to the road that led past the upper pasture to the stables.

Forst was leaning on a paddock fence, watching a pair of young mares drowsing head to tail, whisking away the bugs that droned and zoomed in the warm air. He turned as she came up and put his hands on her, feeling her move at his touch under the light tunic.

She didn’t say anything, but wrapped her own arms around his back and turned her mouth up to his. He slipped his hands between them and cupped her breasts, hard, and she pushed against him, needing him now, wanting him.

He knew I would come tonight, she thought. I always come. So does he. One hand was between her legs now, pushing through the folds of her gown, while the other was spread across her backside, holding her against him. She pushed her own hands under his tunic and felt him harden as she touched him.

He took his mouth from hers and pushed the stable door open with one shoulder. She followed him, her breath coming faster now, and her gown rucked up and tangled in her belt above one hip; above one white leg and the soft copper-colored hair beside it. Forst pulled the gown up slowly and tucked it into her belt at the other side. He ran his fingers through the red hair, downward, and she gasped and sank back in the straw.

He pulled his own tunic up, tucking it into his belt, and she lay back in the straw, knees apart, and watched him – with a tight aching pain between her legs because she wanted him so. His body was hard and scarred with old wounds, and his manhood stood out in front of him like a rod. Emer moaned, and he leaned over her and took the pins from the shoulders of her gown, pulling it down over her breasts so that only her belly was covered. She licked her lips, and he put one hand between her legs and watched her face as he moved his fingers inside her.

She cried out and put her hands on him, trying to tease him into her, wondering if he felt anything or only did it to see her like this, hungry and without control.

He put his mouth over one breast, his hand still between her legs and his teeth biting hard into the nipple. She tilted her head back in the straw and clutched his hand into her with her thighs.

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