White Heat by de Moliere Serge

Author:de Moliere, Serge [de Moliere, Serge]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Etopia Press
Published: 2015-05-20T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

For a moment, Carol wondered if she had been dreaming. Then it all came rushing back—the nightmare with Dugan chasing her, and the metal chastity belt he had attached to her body, grating against her vulva. The abrupt transition into murky awareness, and the piercing scream that summoned Josh, concerned and tender, crawling into her bed.

Then she remembered her fearful arms encircling his strong, virile body. She recalled the spicy flavor of his torso as her mouth and face pressed against his nudity, the slight tickle of his chest hair rubbing against her lips, and the ripple of abdominals pushed hard against her yielding belly.

Oh my God…what had she done? Her hand moved quickly to her crotch, but her panties were still on, and she realized that she was dry. He had not penetrated her. Her relief was palpable.

The contact of his flesh with her bare body was arousing, yes, but also strangely endearing. She was warmed by his attentiveness, by his gentlemanly restraint. He could have had his way with her, but he hadn’t. Her attraction to him grew, began to take the shape of something more than jagged lust, its edges softened by romance.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and imagined what it might be like to have him buried deep inside her; to let him fondle and kiss her body. Then she bit her lip. No, no…this was insane. She was but two days apart from her abusive husband, and already she had let another man into her bed.

And now she wanted even more.

What was Josh doing here anyway, alone in this frigid wilderness? She shook her head. Did it matter? A pulse that at first was slow and steady picked up its pace as if a waltz had turned into a tango.

She watched the flames flicker in the fireplace, felt a kinship with its heat as her flesh began to burn and her heart rate soared. She inhaled air and felt her breasts begin to swell as if a perfume in the room was laced with pheromones. This gorgeous man, with all his wondrous sexuality, was here alone with her.

She heard hoarse, loud snoring. Taking a chance, she parted the curtain, peeked out; and, she saw him lying limp in the sleeping bag. His arms were flung out, the muscles now flaccid but still big; the veins green and taut as rubber tubes. His thick chest rose and fell like an ocean of masculinity. She swallowed hard, licked dry lips. An impulse that was almost overpowering, a desire to caress his chest, to kiss his sleeping face, possessed her. And then, through his parted lips, she’d insert her tongue until he stirred to wakefulness and kissed her back.

Clearly, he was exhausted. He must have stayed awake with her in bed all night, watchful and vigilant, clutching her to him, protective as a mighty hound devoted to its mistress. A lump caught in her throat. She felt the urge grow even stronger: to go to him, to kiss his hair, the stubble on his cheeks, his nose, his mouth.

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