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Saturday, January 12, 2013

Pushing Limits


Content Advisory: Erotic

The sound of The Ramones drowned out the world. This was how she got her exercise, listening to punk music and bouncing around on her trampoline but with the snow outside, she was stuck jumping on her bed. The ceiling fan spun slowly over her head but with her stature, she needn’t worry about being decapitated by the wooden blades. She’d stopped growing in junior high leaving her at five-two and a half but she rounded it up to five-three.
The mirror across the room reflected her ridiculous attempt at shadow boxing. She made her best mean face and pooched her lips out while pretending to uppercut her imaginary opponent as she bounced from one side of the bed to the other feigning defensive moves.
She dropped onto her butt and reached over to grab her bottle of water. Her heart pumped hard and she breathed heavily. A fine layer of sweat coated her forehead and she wiped at it with the back of her hand. The soft cotton comforter cooled the burn in the backs of her legs.
Stretching her arms up over her head, she scooted to the edge of the bed and stripped her tank top off. She stood up and dropped her shorts and underwear and unhooked her bra. The clothes piled up on the floor and she walked into the bathroom. She turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up. She avoided looking at herself naked in the mirror. The scars still bothered her. It was bad enough she had to feel them under her fingertips while she bathed; the raised edges like some kind of Braille on her skin that told a story of her pain.
She stepped under the hot water and smoothed her hair back. The pulse of the spray massaged her scalp and shoulders. She poured shampoo into her hand and rubbed it into her hair. The thick lather slipped between her fingers.
The shower curtain flew open and she screamed and covered her chest instinctively. “Jesus Christ, Gage. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” 
His smiled rivaled that of the Cheshire cat. “Hey, cupcake.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Jan laughed. “If you weren’t so cute, I’d throw soap in your eyes. Close that curtain, I’m freezing.”
He reached out and strummed her nipple. “I can tell. Want some company?”
The touch of his hand sent a bolt of pleasure through her body. “Sure.” She couldn’t even pretend she didn’t crave his touch.
He closed the curtain and a second later slipped into the shower with her. Leaning over, he kissed her shoulder and stepped under the water. “Let me wash your back.”
Jan turned around and closed her eyes. The soapy sponge glided effortlessly over her skin. Gage pulled her closer and held her waist. His cock pressed to her lower back.
She smiled. “That feels good.”
He moved her hair off her neck. “What feels good? The sponge or my dick?”
She reached back and closed her fingers around his length. “Mmm. Both.” The heat of his body and the water rendered her muscles fluid and relaxed.
His hips moved in response to her strokes and he groaned, his dick growing harder and longer in her grasp. “You drive me crazy, Jan.” He played with her nipple, pulling and pinching it.
“Mhm. You do me, too.”
“I want inside you.”
“Can we do it in here?” She contemplated the logistics. He was at least a foot taller than her.
He laughed. “Why not?”
She turned around to face him and looked up. “I’m not too short?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’ll just pick you up and slide you right onto my cock. Perfect fit.” He winked.
She bit her lip. She wasn’t used to his mannerisms but the dirty talk turned her on more than she’d ever admit.
“But first I want you to come for me.” He sat on the edge of the bathtub and pulled her toward him and patted his thigh. “Sit here, facing me.”
Jan straddled his thigh and held onto his shoulders. “Like this?”
He nodded and kissed her, sucking her lip. His palms slid over her nipples.
She moved on his leg, rubbing her pussy against the hard muscle. It wouldn’t take much to get her off, just the slight friction of her clit against his leg already made her pussy clench.
He broke from the kiss and squeezed her breast, wrapping his lips around her nipple. His other hand traveled down over her belly and separated her folds. He sucked the pink pebble and thumbed her clit. The combined pleasures drew a moan from her.
“God, Gage. I’m gonna come. Put your finger in me. Please,” she whimpered.
He lifted her ass up slightly and rammed two fingers inside her creating a delicious friction while his thumb rubbed circles over her clit. He trailed kisses across her chest and ministered to her other breast.  
Her toes curled and slipped against the wet porcelain of the tub. Time stood still in that moment as the first wave washed over her, numbing her skin to the hot water spraying on her back. Her thighs trembled and she looked at his face, unable to speak.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, he held her in place and wiggled his fingers inside her. Their eyes remained locked as she pulled on his hair and breathed fast through her mouth. Her pussy clenched and released and clenched and released, over and over.
“I love knowing I’m doing that to you, making you lose control,” he whispered and pulled her face down to kiss her. His tongue probed her mouth.
Her muscles relaxed. When he pulled his fingers out of her, she squeaked and dropped down on his leg.
He smiled and stroked his cock. “Ready for more, cupcake?” He kissed her nose.
Jan looked down and took a deep breath. “I can’t…”
He tipped her chin up, concern etched in his furrowed brow. “You can’t what?”
She reached for his dick. “I can’t get enough.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He gently lifted her off his lap and stood up. He studied her momentarily before picking her up off her feet. “Wrap your legs around me and hold on.”
The slippery wetness of their skin made it hard to hold on but Gage’s hands grasped her ass and held her tight against him. She slipped her arms around his neck and nibbled his ear. “Is this going to work?”
In response, he lifted her ass and impaled her on his cock. The thick, hardness stabbed deep inside her and she bit down on his shoulder to stifle her scream.
He growled against her ear and lifted her up and lowered her again. “Jesus. You’re so fucking tight.”
The water dripped from his hair to her face and ran down between her breasts. He leaned his back against the tiled wall and bounced her on his cock. The muscles in his arms flexed and bulged with the effort of supporting her and the steady rhythm of fucking her.
Her fingers clawed at his shoulders and she moaned unabashedly. Never had she felt so full; so helpless; so alive. He held her still and pumped into her, hard enough to make her teeth chatter.
“I want to be all the way inside you. Let me sit down.”
She couldn’t imagine he wasn’t already all the way inside her and she wasn’t sure she could take more than he was giving her.
He lowered her to her feet and sat down in the tub. He took her hand and kissed the back of it before pulling her down to straddle his lap. The tub was too short for him to fully stretch his legs out.
The water from the shower sprayed over her back as she kissed his lips. “Be careful with me.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to say that. She often spoke without thinking around him. There was a level of comfort she was unaccustomed to. She trusted him. 
He smiled against her mouth. “Always. You know you only need ask and I’ll stop any time.” His teeth scraped her chin. “We all have limits. I don’t think we know yours yet.”
Jan rubbed her pussy over his cock. Being on top gave her the power to control him when he got enthusiastic. “You have limits?”
He nodded. “Very few but yes.” He squeezed her breast and pinched her nipple. “You’re killing me, Jan.” He raised his hips beneath her. “You’re going to make me beg?”
She shook her head. “No. But it’s fun to tease you a little.”
“Teasing leads to trouble, sweetheart.”
She eased the head of his cock into her opening. “Mmm. I like this kind of trouble.” Pushing harder, she took a little more. She loved how unyielding his shaft was. Her softness conceded to his invasion, stretching to accommodate him.
Gage gripped her hips and tensed his jaw. His green eyes went dark. “More.”
The edge of the bathtub served as leverage as she slowly received him. She leaned her head back, the water spraying her hair. At this angle, she could take all of him and pushed her body flush with his. She moved her hips to and fro with just enough force to cause friction over her G-spot. “Mmm. God. I’m coming. I’m…”
“Yes. You are. Mmm.” Gage held her and let her move as she wanted.
Her pussy convulsed and her body trembled like before. She moaned and let go of the edge of the tub and grabbed his arms.  Loud moans escaped her. She’d never been so vocal with anyone else but she couldn’t hold it in with him.
“The sounds you make…damn.” Gage pulled her forward, cupping the back of her head and looking into her eyes. “I need to come.” His hips lifted beneath her and his cock twitched inside her.
She nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck.
His fingers dug into the soft flesh at the curve of her hips and he manipulated her body.
Jan could only hold on to him and absorb his thrusts, deep and hard. She cried out from pain and pleasure. She couldn’t handle him fucking her that aggressively for long but he was close to climaxing. She scratched at his back and panted.
Gage’s body tensed, his grip on her hips tightening, bruising her delicate flesh. He slammed her ass down on him and his cock pulsed, spurting his hot release deep inside her.
The water turned cool as he kissed her cheek. “This pussy nearly kills me.”
Jan sat up and glared at him. “That’s a really romantic thing to say.”
His face softened. “I’m sorry, cupcake.” He massaged her back and pulled her close. He smoothed her hair away from her ear. “I love you, Jan. You’re my best friend.”
Her heart dropped. She thought she’d made a big mistake telling him that last time. He’d reacted like she’d poured ice water over his head and disappeared for two days. Since then, she had put the idea of love out of her mind. But now, he said it back.
She smiled. “I love you, too.”
He turned the water off and wrapped a towel around his waist before draping a towel around Jan’s shoulders. In one swoop, he lifted her off her feet.
She buried her face against his neck as he carried her to bed.   

Look for Melissa’s next short story on January 26, 2013!

~~*~~

~ Melissa Ecker ~

Copyright © 2013 Melissa Ecker

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

Friday, January 11, 2013

The Voluptuous Correspondence of Lady X


My darling Richard,

I'll use this time, while you've taken the curricle into the village, to write more of my thoughts about our time together here.  I must say that getting to know you in our quiet hours has surprised me with little pleasures.  So many times in the past, we've had only stolen moments together, and we've naturally used them to exercise our passions, leaving no time for conversation or simply sitting silently next to one another.  I've now strolled our tiny beach with you and felt you push wind-blown curls from my face so that you can bend to give me an innocent kiss.  I've watched your face in repose as you stare out the window and then seen your expression turn to one of joy when you find me gazing at you.  And perhaps most of all, I've enjoyed the luxury of weaving my way into your embrace any time I want.  I'm storing all these memories away where I'll be able to bring them back into my thoughts once we've been separated again.

Most of all, I'm amazed at how you constantly want me.  One would think that after all the lovemaking we've shared since coming here, your desires would have abated at least a little bit.  But, no.  Instead your passion for me seems to increase with every encounter, and I can hardly help but respond in kind.  I'll likely accost you the moment you return with our supplies.  Imagine, my darling, parcels will fly as I rip them from your arms so I may have access to your body.  You'll no doubt laugh at my impatience, but not to mock me.  Rather, your mirth will arise from happiness that my lust is at the least equal to your own.

Or perhaps, I'll use more stealth.  I'll hide behind the door so that you'll think you've arrived to find me gone.  I'll let you roam the rooms, searching for me and creep up behind you to clasp my hands over your eyes.  Yes, a game.  I'll turn our lovemaking into a game.

Just wait and see what I have in store for you, my love.

As ever, your devoted X

*

Minx!  What else can I call you?  I've never been more delightfully set upon.  No sooner had I closed the door to the cottage behind me than you pounced.  Had you been a cat, I should have gashes down my back from your claws.  In future, I'll have to check closely every time I enter a room to discover if my lover has decided to secrete herself behind a curtain in hopes of making an assault upon my person.

I hardly have cause to complain, however, against an assault at once so sweet and so sinful.  You did your best to demolish my clothing, tugging at buttons and pushing aside fabric in your haste.  I couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all and most especially at the expression of pure determination on your face.  You would brook no resistance or opposition, and so, I complied with your every demand.

With both of us working diligently, we soon had me as naked as my Creator had made me, although we stumbled a bit when you attempted to remove my pants before my shoes.  By the time we had you out of your robe - all you had worn in preparation for your attack - we were both laughing as we rolled about on the floor.

You cried out with delight and surprise at the state of my member and immediately grasped it, proclaiming it your prize for having bested me in physical combat.  Of course, I declared you the winner.  I would have surrendered my flesh for your play in any case, as your delight with it gives me so much pleasure.  You teased my pego to such a furious hardness that I soon quite lost my head and grasped you bodily to bring you beneath me.  You laughed all the way and begged to know what I, the loser of our battle, thought I could now demand from the winner.

I showed you without words by parting your legs and driving myself inside you.  I bless whatever gods rule women's sexual responses that you'd already exuded a stream of your love juices and were ready to receive my swollen cock.  Otherwise, I fear I would have hurt you, and as a thoughtful lover, I hope to always take great care with your sweet puss.

By now, our mutual lust had reached fevered levels, and I soon found myself thrusting into you with wonderful abandon.  You cooed your delight as I propped myself up on my fists for a deeper angle into your body.  My movements had become sufficiently violent that you wrapped your legs around me to keep us joined.

My darling, I lose control so easily with you.  I fear spending too soon and depriving you of the depths of pleasure we can share.  This afternoon, I determined to last long enough to feel at least two of your wondrous climaxes.  You obliged me as you always do by raising your hips to meet my thrusts.  The movements brought me in contact with your hardened bud, and I delighted in the sounds you made with every jostling of that most sensitive organ.  Within mere minutes, your entire chest wore a rosy flush that crept upward to cover your cheeks.  You tipped your head back and shouted to announce the moment you were overcome.  My signal to continue, hard and fast, to prolong your pleasure.

The convulsions of your pussy around my cock threatened to steal my control and hurtle me after you.  Only by the sternest discipline of will did I manage to hold myself back.  When I’d assured myself that you’d descended from the peak, I ceased my thrusting to let you enjoy the glow.  The utterly blissful expression on your face told me I’d succeeded at the first half of my plan.  I had only to allow you to recover to launch the second act of our lustful comedy.

After a moment, you opened your eyes and gazed up at me quizzically.  To demonstrate that our fun hadn’t ended, I moved inside you.  One glide to prove the continuing engorgement of my member.

Your eyes flew open.  “My darling?”

“Not done with you yet, my lady,” I told you.

You wrapped your arms around my neck and pulled my face down for a kiss.  “I do love you so.”

And therein, my dearest, lies my greatest prize.  Though your body inspires me to performances I’d never have believed I could achieve, your heart is my true treasure.  Indeed, love amplifies desire to a constant craving that occupies my mind by day and haunts my dreams at night.

“Then, you’ll demonstrate by sitting astride me, my dearest?” I said.  “I so love to watch you impaling yourself on my flesh.”

You quite squealed with delight at the prospect, and I soon found myself on my back and could watch you throw your leg over me and grasp my cock by the base.  With the fingers of your other hand, you splayed open the folds of your sex so you could lower yourself onto me.  I watched the head of my member go first and then each inch of my shaft until you’d taken the whole inside you.  Once again, I was buried in the moist heat of your cunny, surely the happiest man on God’s green Earth.  My bones seemed to melt with pleasure, but nothing softened the furious hardness of my male appendage.

Your sheath gripped me so tightly, dearest, I scarce could hold off my excitement any longer.  Still, I recalled my promise to myself to feel you spend twice before surrendering, and I hit upon a plan to ensure your second orgasm.

Your pearl is exquisitely sensitive after you’ve spent.  I knew that the pressure of my thumb against it would send you into new rapture.  I easily found the little treasure, stiff as it was yet from your earlier arousal.  The moment I touched it, you quivered with delight and gasped in a way that assured me of my plan’s success.  I continued teasing your bud while enjoying the sight of you moving above me as your cunny bathed me in your juices.

By now, my own excitement had reached nearly unbearable levels, and I realized I couldn’t hold off my fulfillment much longer.  Whatever force of nature connects us propelled you to your peak just as I had to surrender to my own need, and the two of us spent at precisely the same moment.  While you sang out in your release, I joined in a passionate duet.  Your sex went wild around my cock, and I responded by releasing a stream of sperm.

So harmonious is our union.  No other lovers have ever been so perfectly attuned to each other.  The climax drained me of strength and reason, leaving only satisfied flesh.  You collapsed against my chest, where I held you, my most precious burden.

As we lay against that floor, I marveled at the wonder of our union.  Of the multitudes of souls in the world, ours had somehow reached across the void to find each other.  I can only bless whatever fate brought us together and remain,

Your most devoted Richard.

Monday, January 7, 2013

His Goddess


Candles blazed in Piero’s chamber. This night he was working on a portrait of a goddess as he had been for several weeks. Dea, a fair Florentine maiden, shivered as she posed fully revealed in the flicker of a dozen candles. Her pale pink nipples stood prominent, casting little shadows on her milky-white breasts.
On Piero’s canvas, a depiction of Dea: blue in her eyes matched the serene, azure skies. Crested waves of oils formed the benevolent sun’s rays and glorious sunset, caressing the goddess into which Dea had been transformed. The idyllic scene fiercely motivated the painter by the ravishing beauty which stood before him.
“Please, my lord…” She lowered her gaze from the ceiling to regard Piero. The slight shake in her previous stillness displayed fatigue.
“You may rest, Dea.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Dea reached for the heavy cloak which Piero kept for her to take a well-deserved break.
His tower was drafty, high as it stood on the estate and though a merry fire crackled in the hearth, little warmth reached her where Piero had set up his own sort of lighting system.
The painting must be perfect, he had told her and after all, was he not providing for her ailing father by sending his brother, the physician? Dea had acquiesced at that very important reminder. Piero’s gaze trailed down her slender, shapely legs and his cock stirred in response. No other woman stoked the flames of his lust quite like Dea.
Her golden hair captured the very essence of the sun itself in the ringlets cascading over her shoulders, down her back, all the way to her curved hips. In effect, Dea was not a maiden, but a widow of the king’s war. From what Piero had heard, her husband Carlo died but a year ago. Her father could not do his part in securing another marriage for her due to his poor health and social status as a failed man of God. She’d moved back home with her father, a former monk who had fallen for the charms of her mother. Dea had dealt with her mother’s passing just shortly before she found herself without a husband as well.
Now she watched Piero from a reclining position on his couch, the cloak unable to mask her form which by then he knew every trace of with his brush. He wanted more. She was considered used goods by other eligible suitors in the city and remained childless and unmarried. It seemed she was cursed, yet Piero loved her.
“Dea.” He always called her by her name and it did not offend her.
“My lord?” Limpid pools of sky gazed at him in the light reflected off the warm tones in the mural he’d painted in his room. She tugged at a lock of her golden hair.
“It is time.” Piero picked up his brush again as if to resume his work. It was either keep going or cover his oils, which were expensive enough not to want to ruin or waste.
Dea bowed her head slightly and let the cloak fall from her shoulders. She stood and strode to the center of the near-inferno Piero had simulated with all his candlesticks. As if moving through water, she positioned her arms in the way he’d instructed her.
It was a great deal to bear, the sight of her: her plush rosy lips, the soft arc of her cheek, the noble lines of her profile—delicate, yet sculpted in the image of her fading patriarch—not to mention the beguiling cleft between her heavenly thighs. Her breasts were high, uncommon for a woman her age, for the majority would have been disfigured by child-bearing. As it was, Dea was flawless in Piero’s eyes. Worthy of his beloved goddess Aphrodite. The graceful sway of her hips haunted his dreams. Questions burned in his mind. Did Dea see him the same way? Did his dark scowl smolder in her thoughts when out of his presence? Was he toned enough, having lived the life of an artist, rather than a soldier?
Her arm wavered and Piero laid down his brush to close the distance between them in order to reposition the limb. That close to her, his head swam in her floral perfume, a gift from him towards the beginning of their arrangement. He deliberately took his time with the artwork in order to draw out the hours allotted to bask in Dea’s own goddess-like presence and inhale the rose water, which she wore dutifully for him. His nose was drawn to her graceful neck; toward the pulse point just under her ear.
“You must maintain your posture,” he whispered and goose bumps broke out over her perfect flesh. Her lips were slightly parted as he slid his fingers over her arms, posing her like a living doll. “Stay as still as possible.”
Dea nodded quickly, avoiding his gaze. Her breathing was quick and shallow, her breasts heaving with lady-like restrain.
Piero smiled. “I cannot imagine why you are not filling a lord’s bed at this moment.”
She glanced at him for an instant then looked away. “No man wants a woman who has already been conquered, my lord.”
“And yet you call me lord, and I am nothing of the sort.” His grip tightened on her shoulders, the strokes more deliberate.
She gasped and turned her face to him. Piero brushed her lips with his own and pulled her arms to a more relaxed position. “I am no lord,” he whispered. “I believe I have fallen in love with Aphrodite.” He kissed her again and slid his hand down her side to grasp her hip.
“And I am no Aphrodite,” she responded in a rush of breath, “yet you deem me worthy of your goddess.”
“You are an intelligent woman.”
Their lips pressed together. Piero brushed the backs of his knuckles down her cheek. Her naked body pressed against him and she released a sigh.
Dea moaned softly. “By all means, my lord.”
It was the only invitation Piero needed. He kissed her, hard, sucking her lip before taking her hand to liberate her from the circle of light. The same eyes that haunted him from his canvas gazed into his. He moved with her to his bed and she unclothed him, covering his skin with her kisses instead. She worked her way lower once he stood bare before her. Her warm tongue tickled his shaft, teasing him. He moved to the bed, lying back on a small pile of cushions before she was upon him again. Her fingertips danced over the tops of his thighs before she wrapped her lips around his throbbing cock.
“Ah, woman…” His head rolled side-to-side on the pillow as she sucked the tip and stroked the shaft. She held his cock in a firm grip. Piero grabbed a handful of her golden tresses and guided her down his throbbing prick. The sight of her devouring his manhood made his balls tighten. Gently, he pushed her to take in more of his phallus and she eagerly obeyed, her saliva sliding down his shaft to pool in his nest of dark hair before spilling over his sac. He groaned and shoved her all the way down his cock and she responded with a moan, vibrating his shaft.
“My sweet goddess.” He grit his teeth and growled as he came. She swallowed his seed and he released her.
She swept a hand over his rigid thigh and licked her lips.
“I wish to taste you,” he said in a low voice as his cock shifted of its own accord; a signal he was far from done with using it on her.
Dea slid up his body, her velvety skin setting his senses atingle. Her warmth slipped under his fingers until he took hold of her. Their mouths met; his lips softened under her petal-like brush; a faint taste of salt lingered in her kiss. Their teeth collided, tongues seeking, sucking. He cupped her cheek as the gravity of what was happening settled upon him.
It was love, it had to be. How else could one describe the flutter of doves’ wings within his belly? The light-headed, drunken sensation of drifting on a cloud of glittering stars?
His kisses hardened; his fingers tightened and then her netherflower was above his face. His tongue sought her dewy heat, gently at first but soon drowning in her musk with her thighs tight against his ears. His pulse matched hers. Her fingers tangled in his hair and a low moan reverberated through her form in encouragement.
“My lord!”
“Call me Piero,” he muttered as he gasped for air and returned to wriggling his tongue into the soft folds between her legs. Dea arched her back and called out again and again. Her hips rocked, mimicking the movements of a lover. His lover. He pushed her away from his face and nipped her inner thigh for good measure, causing her to jerk and moan.
“You are a beautiful woman, Dea.”
With strong arms, he guided her to slide and lay on his chest. Her blue eyes were pools of untouched water in a secret cove. They kissed again and he rubbed her arm with firm strokes. Would he take a woman already conquered? Nay, she was no more conquered than a fine sailing vessel. Her proud breasts bore no marks, her teeth were pearls. One could hardly believe anyone had ever treated her as less than a gift. His heart rose at the sight of her, the painting forgotten. He would give up painting, run away with her to the valley where old women would tell stories and she would whisper secrets in his ear each night.
Even more so did he shake inside when he rolled over her to enter, his cock questing for her core. Her long legs smoothed up over his back to cross and draw him in farther. Her mouth sought his and their sounds mingled as the buttery warmth of romantic lovemaking settled upon their writhing forms.
Piero’s nose crushed into her soft tresses, loosened and messed by the momentum of their advances. Honeyed roses and soft sweat engulfed him. He rolled his hips against hers as their bodies spoke volumes to one another. His hand moved of its own accord to clap over her damp breast and squeezed, drawing out her nipple with thumb and forefinger. She tossed her head about like a flower’s blossom upon its stem and sung her pleasure.
His cock drove deep, building a pressure and stoking a fire between them. Dots of perspiration appeared on her brow as she clung to his body, giving herself to him.
Piero paused long enough to turn her on her stomach, untangling her legs from around him to do so. He ran his hand down her back as he thrust into her again. A glorious vision she was with her golden hair cascading across her flesh to drape over a shoulder. He should talk to her father, he thought, as he pounded her from behind, shaking her form with his strong thrusts. She tipped her head back and moaned as her insides gripped his cock like a silken sleeve. The force surrounding him was magnificent and his voice rivaled hers as he cried out in utter pleasure.
With her father’s blessing, he could have this whenever he desired. Dear God, he loved this woman. He swept her hair away from her back and drew it up to expose her neck. A fragile, incredible thing she was. And the painting—he could never sell it. Even if she would not have him for her husband, her eyes would always haunt him from that picture. Forever captured in hardened oils, swirls, crests.
His orgasm rose when hers peaked once again and he probably would bruise her pretty flesh but she did not seem to mind. His hands were firm on her hips and she dug her nails into his fingers as he came inside her with low groan.
They remained where they were for a time. Piero drew in great, sawing breaths as his heart hammered in his ears. She bowed her head to the bed then lay flat as he withdrew from her.
“I have desired you so many nights,” she whispered as she fingered the embroidering on the pillow but did not look at him.
“As I have you.”
She gave a tinkle of laughter. “Had I known…”
“Our bodies knew. They spoke when we would not dare.”
He stood and got dressed, while she retreated to the cloak. Piero’s gaze flicked from her breasts to her face as he stepped back to appraise his work in progress. No harm had come to the oils and now he knew the contours of her body.
It would be easier from here on out. He tore his gaze from his depiction back to her. Her face was radiant, perhaps from the light, most certainly from the sex. He would need to add more rose to his goddess’s cheeks.
Their time was up and Piero retrieved her dress for her to put on once again. Dea drew her golden waves back away from her face, taming her wild look back to that of a sick man’s daughter.
“Join me and my father for supper tomorrow night.” Dea patted her hair as if to ensure no stray strands rebelled to tell the whole story of what had just happened.
She closed the distance between them. His answer burned in their kiss. It was a beginning.

~ Annice Sands ~

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Copyright © 2012 Annice Sands
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.