care to show me.” She nipped at his lips. “But for now,
you will show me how much you missed me, ehemann .”
For the first time in over a week Ailyn
Harmattan felt at peace. There in the arms of his woman with their Ceangal —their
Joining—on the horizon. He knew tranquility, a harmony with his nature that he
had never experienced.
Her breasts were pressed flat against his
bare chest, her swollen nipples burning his flesh. Those long, silky legs were
still wrapped around him and she was rubbing the cleft of his rump with her
heel. She held him to her, arched her hips up in invitation to his plunder and
ground herself against him.
“Ah, wench,” he said, unable to hold off
any longer.
For the first time in Ailyn’s life, he
thrust his aching, stiff cock into the warm, wet channel of a woman. But it was
not just any woman whose body he impaled with that hard shaft but his woman, his companion, his life - mate.
The sensation rocking his lower body was
glorious as he withdrew and thrust into her again. The silky moistness that
enveloped him, the feel of her sheath, the heat that flowed along his rod was a
heady awareness that made him shudder with delight. He shoved his hand back
under her hip and lifted her to him to better penetrate that luscious heaven
that tightened around his turgid flesh.
He slammed his mouth down over her, thrust
his tongue deep between her lips and began pumping his cock in and out of her
willing body so fast and with such power, the sound of their bodies slapping
together made him that much lustier.
Shanee was digging her fingernails into his
bare back and her arms were so tight around him he was having difficulty
breathing. Her mouth was fastened to his, her thighs squeezing his waist. She
was as attached to him as any of the moles that peppered his back.
The itch was beginning high up in his belly
and fingering its way down through his cock. Her honeyed warmth was milking
him, drawing upon his rigid length, and he could feel the first faint wave that
started somewhere near her womb then rippled down.
She cried out—her voice lost in the
recesses of his mouth. She tensed—her body pushing up to meet his.
He grunted as the first spasm shook him and
he felt her climax begin. It was such an intense, overpowering feeling wrapped
around his cock that increased the speed of his thrusting.
The moment the release washed over her, she
felt the first spurt of his juices spilling into her, the jerk of his cock, the
hard power in his thighs as he strained against her. As wave after wave of
pure, concentrated pleasure undulated through her, she felt his shaft pulsing
hard.
Ailyn tore his mouth from hers and threw
back his head, howling as he pulsated one last time within her. Pushing hard
against her, stabbing his cock as far inside her as it would go, he held still
as the last faint jerk signaled the end of his release.
Breathing hard, sweat glistening on his
body, he rolled with her until he lay on his back with her blanketing him. She
had released her hold on his waist and shoulders so that her legs and arms
stretched out alongside his, his hands clasped together at the small of her
back.
“By the gods, I’ll never walk again,” he
gasped. His heart was pounding so violently, he feared it would burst.
“You’ll never walk again?” she countered.
She too was heaving in breath. Lowering her head to his chest, she could hear
the thunderous beat beneath her ear. “You’ve crippled me, Harmattan.” She heard
him snort.
He had not slept in days and he was so
tired he could barely keep his eyes open. He was drained—milked dry—and so
weary he simply could no longer stay awake. He didn’t try. Two more deep
breaths and he was sound asleep.
Shanee lifted her head and realized he was
sleeping. Tariq had told her he would not have had much sleep—if any at all—and
so she gently lay her head down again and there wrapped in the safe, protected,
loving embrace of his arms, fell
you will show me how much you missed me, ehemann .”
For the first time in over a week Ailyn
Harmattan felt at peace. There in the arms of his woman with their Ceangal —their
Joining—on the horizon. He knew tranquility, a harmony with his nature that he
had never experienced.
Her breasts were pressed flat against his
bare chest, her swollen nipples burning his flesh. Those long, silky legs were
still wrapped around him and she was rubbing the cleft of his rump with her
heel. She held him to her, arched her hips up in invitation to his plunder and
ground herself against him.
“Ah, wench,” he said, unable to hold off
any longer.
For the first time in Ailyn’s life, he
thrust his aching, stiff cock into the warm, wet channel of a woman. But it was
not just any woman whose body he impaled with that hard shaft but his woman, his companion, his life - mate.
The sensation rocking his lower body was
glorious as he withdrew and thrust into her again. The silky moistness that
enveloped him, the feel of her sheath, the heat that flowed along his rod was a
heady awareness that made him shudder with delight. He shoved his hand back
under her hip and lifted her to him to better penetrate that luscious heaven
that tightened around his turgid flesh.
He slammed his mouth down over her, thrust
his tongue deep between her lips and began pumping his cock in and out of her
willing body so fast and with such power, the sound of their bodies slapping
together made him that much lustier.
Shanee was digging her fingernails into his
bare back and her arms were so tight around him he was having difficulty
breathing. Her mouth was fastened to his, her thighs squeezing his waist. She
was as attached to him as any of the moles that peppered his back.
The itch was beginning high up in his belly
and fingering its way down through his cock. Her honeyed warmth was milking
him, drawing upon his rigid length, and he could feel the first faint wave that
started somewhere near her womb then rippled down.
She cried out—her voice lost in the
recesses of his mouth. She tensed—her body pushing up to meet his.
He grunted as the first spasm shook him and
he felt her climax begin. It was such an intense, overpowering feeling wrapped
around his cock that increased the speed of his thrusting.
The moment the release washed over her, she
felt the first spurt of his juices spilling into her, the jerk of his cock, the
hard power in his thighs as he strained against her. As wave after wave of
pure, concentrated pleasure undulated through her, she felt his shaft pulsing
hard.
Ailyn tore his mouth from hers and threw
back his head, howling as he pulsated one last time within her. Pushing hard
against her, stabbing his cock as far inside her as it would go, he held still
as the last faint jerk signaled the end of his release.
Breathing hard, sweat glistening on his
body, he rolled with her until he lay on his back with her blanketing him. She
had released her hold on his waist and shoulders so that her legs and arms
stretched out alongside his, his hands clasped together at the small of her
back.
“By the gods, I’ll never walk again,” he
gasped. His heart was pounding so violently, he feared it would burst.
“You’ll never walk again?” she countered.
She too was heaving in breath. Lowering her head to his chest, she could hear
the thunderous beat beneath her ear. “You’ve crippled me, Harmattan.” She heard
him snort.
He had not slept in days and he was so
tired he could barely keep his eyes open. He was drained—milked dry—and so
weary he simply could no longer stay awake. He didn’t try. Two more deep
breaths and he was sound asleep.
Shanee lifted her head and realized he was
sleeping. Tariq had told her he would not have had much sleep—if any at all—and
so she gently lay her head down again and there wrapped in the safe, protected,
loving embrace of his arms, fell
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