Bedeviled Angel by A

Bedeviled Angel by A

Author:A [A]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 2010-09-03T02:53:52.330000+00:00


TWENTY-THREE

Clouds? Who cared about clouds? She had a man in her bed.

Handsome. Rugged. Kind. She wanted soft touches, sensuality. Sex play.

Perhaps Chance was toying with her, and she should be appreciating it. After all, sex was

not all action, but talk, patience, teasing, and discovering. “Let‟s clear your clouds, then.”

Queisha straightened. “This is called a side zipper,” she said, raising her arm and indicating the

implement on her dress. “It‟s not considered sexy, so you can regroup while I make use of it.”

“I think you‟re years too late to slow me down. Pardon me if I can‟t wait.” He licked his

lips and slowly lowered her strapless top to expose her breasts.

“Now, only my manhood is regrouping. Happy, happy Sir Chance,” he declared.

“Happier submarine.”

“I‟m sorry,” she said, regarding her breasts overflowing his big hands. “I‟ve been overly

endowed. It‟s so embarrassing.”

“Please remember for a future conversation—I‟ll tell you when—that you tend to

overreact and apologize for your assets, as if they were deficiencies.”

“I‟ll remember.” Inside, she danced. An asset, not a deficiency. Her father had made her

feel bad for being well-endowed, like she utilized her breasts specifically to attract attention.

Negative attention. The kind that caused babies. And she all but gave him proof.

“Now back to your regularly scheduled assets,” Chance said, reclaiming her attention. He

reached for her breasts, again, but stopped short of touching them. She thought she might

scream.

“How do you feel about a man who drools?” he asked. “Ah, I see you appreciate my

attention. I personally love a woman with a twinkle in her big, amber eyes.”

He‟d taken his hands from her flesh, damn it, but remained utterly focused on her breasts.

She adored his robust lust, she loved being responsible for it, so she upped the brazen factor

and lowered herself toward his mouth. Just a nipple away from unbelievable ecstasy; she knew

because she pulsed just knowing it.

“Ah . . .”

“Yes?”

“Yes?”

He licked his lips. “Forgot what I was going to, oh yeah, maybe we should hang up the

dress? Please say no.”

“And let an angel lose its wings?”

Chance‟s amusement got entirely out of hand. “You do believe in angels?”

“No, do you?”

“Yes. Angels appear when we‟ve lost our way.”

“Like in the dark when we‟re buried alive? I can almost believe it.”

“You of all people should.”

“I‟ll tell you what I do believe,” Queisha said. “I believe you‟ve gotten your libido under

control. Now we can take it slow.”

His body stiffened . . . everywhere. “You changed the subject to keep me from shortcircuiting?”

“I hoped you‟d last for a minute or two longer.”

Chance‟s eyes narrowed. “Off with the dress.”

Queisha pulled the silver dream over her head. “Nothing like challenging a man‟s staying

power to get him to focus.”

Chance winced. “Guess I‟m giving you a glimpse at my recent lack of experience.”

Queisha winked. “As long as you give me a glimpse of your submarine.”

When she cleared her dress, he came for her breasts with his mouth, and at the

anticipation of imminent contact, she tilted back her head, closed her eyes, and let him work

his magick. Her breasts were in Chance‟s hands, his miracle-working fingers hardening a

nipple, slow, thorough, creating and increasing pleasure.



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