Monday, August 13, 2007

EXCERPT: A Lick and A Promise


Without nitrogen, he couldn’t be held completely responsible for his actions. So he should be honorable about it and go to his room. Now.

If he could get his legs to work. “I’m not feeling well.”

She scurried to his side and braced him, pressing a cool hand against his forehead. “You’re overheated. Let’s get you to bed.”

Dirty ideas looped-the-loop inside his mind. Plans to yank her down on his bed, pin her beneath and tear off her clothes with his teeth. Nibbling every centimeter of that soft, white flesh sounded good too. Yeah. Then licking the thin film of sweat off her body to replace the potassium he’d lost with the hoe. He’d finish her off by fucking her senseless, then start all over again.

Fortunately he’d adapted enough to harness these impulses. How much temptation he could take without acting, however, was anybody’s guess. “The porch will do.”

Certainly, by now, Queen Win knew he’d survived. No chance of her discerning his location, though, as long as he kept his breeches buttoned. Dove’s hand at his waist didn’t help. Nor the fingers that kept slipping below his waistband, tickling his hip bone and calcifying his dick.

They reached the porch and lumbered drunkenly up the steps. He fell heavily onto the bench glider, on his back, and she tumbled on top of him.

Their faces collided, noses bashing. Her breasts squished against his chest. She giggled into his cheek. He gripped her shoulders, intending to push her away and she lifted her head and smiled.

He wrenched her lips down to his.

Crazy lust spewed all over the floorboards and out to the four corners of the universe. Their mouths latched, suckling and licking, pulling and teething. He mashed her closer until their teeth engaged and she gasped. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

He clamped her to him, bending his legs through hers and braiding them together. She writhed and moaned, sliding and testing for the best fit until she found it and their forms settled and merged, becoming one and forcing his cells out of habitual clusters to form an entirely rearranged being.

He’d forgotten the sheer bliss of physical contact—those stolen moments in his teens when raging hormones overwhelmed the dangers and he’d seek and molest an equally horny female. He’d never crossed the line, though. Those who did had a tendency to disappear. And as he grew and developed acute mental skills, his physical needs had been trained to feel satisfied.

Until now.

As transcendent as mental petting with Dove had been, he realized it was pond water compared to Starbucks, an energy pill instead of eggs and bacon, logical understanding ruffling the fringes of emotion instead of his entire self blooming with unchained sensation.

I knew it! Queen Win shouted.

Dove opened her eyes.

“Ignore her,” he muttered, running his tongue along her lower lip, relishing the intense flavors that’d been diluted in the ether.

You bastard! roared Queen Win.

“What’s going on?” Dove lifted her head. He took the opportunity to graze on the tender plumpness of her cheek and found it as lushly erotic as her breasts and her ass. Amazing. Something he could publicly fondle without social recrimination. Women were walking, talking sexual miracles.

Another gust of intergalactic hot air.

A boyish mischievousness gurgled in his chest. You can’t see me.

Off with his head!

Playtime over. Not if I get you first.

Frosty silence.

I know where you are, he threatened.

The frigid breeze of her mental exit hit him. Nothing if not childish, she’d flounced off to pout. But she’d be back. With a plan. He knew better than to underestimate her. Or her fiendish henchmen.

“The neighbors must be having a fight,” Dove said. “Gives me an idea.” She nibbled his jaw, raising goose bumps on his arms. He arched his cock against her pussy, sliding his hands underneath her shirt. “We could have make-up sex for them.”

He groaned and imagined her hot, succulent pussy grasping him and sucking him inside, the slide of flesh on flesh, her supple legs around his waist. There wasn’t one thing in the universe he craved more than her body squeezing his, pumping under his. Her breath on his shoulder, her moans in his ears.

Thank God Queen Win’s interruption had come to the rescue. In another minute, his control would’ve irrevocably snapped. Besides, someone else had been watching too. “We can’t.” Her crestfallen expression almost undid him. In a perfect world, he’d deny her nothing. Nothing. “We’re not alone.”

She stiffened. A curtain fluttered to their left. She dropped her head onto his chest and a sigh quaked her body. “Poppy.”

“Yes.”

“Crap.”

He chuckled.

“She’ll tell everyone.”

He laughed.

“You think it’s funny now…” but she giggled too. “Just wait…wait until dinnertime.”

They dissolved in hysteria. His diaphragm contracted like a giant bellows, forcing all the air out of his lungs. Panic overtook him--a sense of drowning. His arms flailed. His chest unlocked and flooded…

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2 Comments:

Anonymous jane/fabdame said...

Cheese and rice! It's hot enough here already!

August 13, 2007 3:00 PM  
Blogger Ann Wesley Hardin said...

Just you wait, hehehehe.

August 14, 2007 10:03 AM  

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