"Rose felt the hard ridges of their cocks pressing against her.
'Sorry, I don't work with inferior material, boys.'
Maybe she didn't need the snake."
The Bad Widow -- Barbara Elsborg
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"Rose felt the hard ridges of their cocks pressing against her.
'Sorry, I don't work with inferior material, boys.'
Maybe she didn't need the snake."
The Bad Widow -- Barbara Elsborg
Posted at 11:28 PM in Animal Husbandry, Dislocated Members, Henchman, Reluctance, Sexual, Tenderloins, Web/Tech | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBack (0)
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"She glanced down at him in bewilderment, her green eyes full of passion's glow when they fell upon his manhood. Embarrassed color washed over her, but she could not draw her fascinated gaze away from the sight of the rigid, pulsing hardness which sprang from a cluster of tight black curls between his thighs. Though she lacked the means of comparison, she knew without a doubt that he was endowed with a truly magnificent instrument of passion. The thought made her blush all the more.
'Roark?' she whispered, then gasped when he pressed a light, tantalizing kiss to the skin just above her gartered stocking.
Her eyes swept closed again as his fingers slipped into the top of the stocking and slowly eased the delicate cotton downward. A delicious shiver ran the length of her spine. After baring the other leg as well, he stood and lifted the hemline of her chemise.
Eden crimsoned anew. She instinctively protested, clutching at the thin garment in a last, futile attempt to save herself from Roark's determined mastery of her body. A soft smile touched his lips, and his blue eyes gleamed with loving amusement.
'I will see all of you, Mrs. St. Claire,' he reiterated.
She shook her head numbly, but he would not be forestalled. He tugged the chemise from her trembling form, then seized her arms to prevent her from shielding any portion of her lush, womanly curves from his scorching gaze.
His eyes darkened as they traveled over her with bold intimacy. They lingered, in wholly masculine appreciation, upon the satiny, rose-tipped fullness of her breasts and the downy triangle of raven curls at the apex of her slender thighs.
'You're even more beautiful than I imagined,' he pronounced, his voice tinged with a splendid huskiness.
'Please... let me go!' she murmured brokenly. She didn't know which frightened her more -- his passion or her own.
'No, Eden.' The slow, disarming smile which spread across his handsome face quite literally took her breath away. 'You're mine. We both knew it the first time our eyes met. What we felt then hasn't been destroyed. It's only grown stronger.'
'That isn't true!' she exclaimed, her eyes bright with sudden tears as she gazed up at him in the lamplight. 'I... I foolishly believed myself to be in love with you all those months ago, but I will not make that mistake again! You may be able to possess my body, Roark St. Claire, but you'll never possess my heart! I shall never freely give you my love!'
'Ah, but you will, sweet vixen. And sooner than you think.'
With that, he scooped her up in his arms and bore her relentlessly backward to the bed. She fought him with a renewed vengeance, but he held her arms above her head and lowered his body atop hers. Her eyes flew wide as the entire length of his virile, hard-muscled frame came into contact with her struggling softness. The shocking sensation of naked flesh meeting naked flesh sent a powerful tremor of half-fear, half-pleasure through her.
'I shall always hate you!' she cried hotly.
'Hate me if you will for now,' he replied, his gaze smoldering with desire. 'But know that I will soon tame your wild heart and hear you beg me to take you!'
She opened her mouth to deny it, but he silenced her with a kiss that was even more fiercely demanding than the one before it. His tongue thrust between her parted lips to ravish the moist sweetness of her mouth, stabbing and exploring so provocatively that she moaned in helpless surrender. He released his iron grip on her wrists. His hands swept downward over her supple curves, molding her to his body and making her gasp repeatedly against his mouth with the sweet savagery of his caresses.
It soon became apparent to her that this time would be different from the first. While there was an equal amount of passion -- in truth, even more -- this time held none of the tempestuous haste of their first union. This time, Roark was making love to her with a leisurely perfection that kindled a flame deep within her, and then nurtured that flame until it blazed higher and higher. He was determined that her desire should burn as white-hot as his own; he would show her in the most effective way known to man that, while woman may have been created for a multitude of purposes, it was this one particular purpose that could bring an earthly pleasure like no other.
Eden's arms entwined about the corded muscles of his neck. She kissed him back with an increasing boldness that delighted him, and at the same time threatened to send his own passions out of control. With a low groan, he tore his lips from hers and trailed a searing path downward along her neck to the beckoning fullness of her breasts. His mouth closed about one of the delicate peaks. His warm, velvety tongue flicked with light, sensuous strokes across the nipple while his lips gently suckled.
'Oh, Roark!' Eden breathed raggedly. Her hands clutched at his head, her fingers threading within the bronzed thickness of his hair. Arching her back instinctively upward, she thrilled to his ardent possession of her breasts.
Minutes later, he raised up and rolled her to her stomach on the bed. She glanced back at him in mingled surprise and bemusement, but her unspoken question was soon answered in a most satisfying manner.
Roark tugged the ribbon from her hair, smoothed the thick, luxuriant mass of raven tresses aside, and pressed his lips to the back of her neck. He followed the graceful curve of her spine, his warm mouth trailing downward until he reached her hips.
She blushed rosily when he dropped a kiss upon her bare bottom. He followed that kiss with several others, his teeth as well as his lips teasing playfully, erotically at the alluring roundness of her flesh. Her hips moved restlessly beneath his wicked but highly pleasurable tribute, her eyes sweeping closed as her arms tightened about the pillow.
Then, she was being turned upon her back again. Roark's head remained level with her hips as he knelt straddling her legs. She met his gaze. Another faint, unfathomable smile tugged at his lips, and there was something in his eyes that filled her with sudden apprehension. Without a word, he bent toward the triangle of soft, delicate black curls.
'Roark, no!' Eden protested, thoroughly shocked at his intent. She stiffened and gasped out, 'Surely you cannot mean to ---'
He not only meant to; he did. She cried out softly at the first touch of his lips. True to his word, he soon had her begging for release. Her hands clutched weakly at his broad shoulders, and her head tossed upon the pillow as the rapturous longing built to a fever pitch within her.
'Roark... please!'
'Please what?'
'Please, stop! Sweet Saint Christopher, I... I can bear no more!'
He finally raised his head and slid his body upward upon hers. His skillful fingers, however, continued the exquisite torment, making her gasp and squirm as she tried desperately to hold onto her pride.
'Say it, Eden,' he commanded. His gaze bored down into the fiery, passion-drugged virescence of hers. 'Say it!'
'All... all right, damn you!' she gasped out at last. 'I... I want you to... take me!'
She knew she would hate herself for it afterward, but there was nothing else she could do. Heaven help her, she would go mad if he did not put an end to this sweet, near-painful agony!
Roark's blue eyes gleamed triumphantly. He was only too happy to oblige.
'With pleasure, Mrs. St. Claire!' he murmured with a soft laugh.
Slipping a hand beneath her hips, he lifted her and positioned himself in readiness. He plunged into her well-honeyed passage, his manhood sheathing with perfection.
Eden shuddered with passion and clung tightly to him. Her hips instinctively matched the rhythm of his slow yet demanding thrusts. She rode the crest of passion with him, soaring higher and higher, until she had reached the shattering fulfillment only the truest of lovers can ever know.
A scream of pure pleasure broke from her lips when it came. She collapsed, out of breath and completely drained, back against the pillow. Roark stiffened an instant later, spilling his hot, life-giving seed into her fertile softness. Nature would take its own course now."
Passion's Chains -- Catherine Creel
Posted at 10:15 PM in Bastards, Dislocated Members, Excretions, Film, Flamey, Food and Drink, Hairy, Interior Design, Nipples, Quivering, Reluctance, Respiration, Sexual, Spelunking, Suckling, Tenderloins, Voyeurism | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
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"He looked utterly panicked. As if she'd lobbed him a snarling weasel, rather than an honest compliment. Actually, he probably would have dealt with the weasel more handily."
Twice Tempted by a Rogue -- Tessa Dare
Posted at 10:38 PM in Animal Husbandry, Hairy, Henchman, Tenderloins | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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"The aggressive masculinity of his face, the whiteness of his smile, caused butterflies to flutter in her stomach. Actually they did more than flutter; they stampeded."
At the Spaniard's Convenience -- Margaret Mayo
Posted at 11:40 PM in Animal Husbandry, Dislocated Members, Frolicking, Gardening, Interior Design, Quivering, Science | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
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"Now that we know our cocks are pretty much the same size, can we figure out how to fix this mess so everybody gets what he wants?"
Nocked for a loop -- Sam Cheever
Posted at 12:39 AM in Dislocated Members, Excretions, Games, Henchman, Insanity, Sexual, Voyeurism, Washing | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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"And then Michael shifted his body just a little, not withdrawing, but giving himself enough room to stroke her and she knew that she would not go hungry tonight, as she had so many nights with Thomas and never even known it."
Desert Hearts -- Marjorie Farrell
Posted at 12:29 AM in Dislocated Members, Excretions, Food and Drink, Sexual | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
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A rainbow of colors shot through her--blue mating with yellow, red having its way with green--copulating colors, dancing and spinning like so many faries, and oh, how she envied each and every one of them.
Aphrodite's Kiss -- Julie Kenner
Posted at 07:48 PM in Dr. Feelgood, Drugs, Food and Drink, History, Sexual | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
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"Heat merged with pressure in his groin when she made brief, shy contact with his belt buckle."
Stolen Memories -- Kelsey Roberts
Posted at 12:08 PM in Books, Dislocated Members, Excretions, Flamey, History, Interior Design, Science, Sexual, Spelunking, Tenderloins, Web/Tech | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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"I look forward to a larger taste of your love juice."
Reaper's Justice -- Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Posted at 10:52 PM in Excretions, Food and Drink, Sexual, Suckling | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)
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"Brody grabbed her hips and held her still. 'Australia is a constitutional democracy,' he said.
'I don't care,' Payton replied as she rocked forward, ignoring his plea."
The Mighty Quinns: Brody -- Kate Hoffmann
Posted at 12:38 AM in Books, Dr. Feelgood, Henchman, History, Reluctance, Sexual, Web/Tech | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack (0)
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