Midnight Fantasies(6)

By: Vicki Lewis Thompson


“All right.” She leaned back, a shadowy creature out of his dearest wet dreams. “Go ahead.” Then she raised her arms.

He pulled the shirt off mostly by feel. He really couldn’t see what he was doing, but he was discovering that operating only by feel provided its own special reward. He dropped her shirt to the floor of the cave.

Then, before he could reach for her, she took hold of his wrists and guided his hands to her lace-covered breasts. “I believe this is what you wanted,” she said.

His moan of agreement sounded as if someone had him by the throat. His hands trembled, and he couldn’t remember ever feeling such promising sweetness in his life. His mouth watered.

“Let me undo the hooks,” she murmured. She reached both hands behind her back and arched toward him.

He couldn’t wait. With another moan he cupped the breasts she’d thrust toward him and leaned down to close his mouth over one lace-covered nipple.

“Impatient, are you?”

Her teasing words doubled his hunger. With a soft growl he nipped at the lace until it went slack in his hands. Then he pulled it away and dropped it to the floor of the cave. As he reached for her again, she drew back.

“Wait.”

He couldn’t wait. Not for a second. “Sarah—”

“Let me make this easier.”

Easier. As he listened to the sound of her boots being tossed to the floor of the cave, he decided a wise man wouldn’t question her statement.

“Hold still,” she whispered. Resting her hands on his shoulders, she got to her knees on the rock ledge. “Now close your eyes.”

He closed them. He could barely see her, anyway. As he waited, heart pounding and groin tight, her nipple grazed his cheek and stroked deliberately across his lips. The scent of her skin filled his nostrils as she eased her other nipple over his mouth. He groaned and lifted his hands to touch her.

“Don’t do anything. Leave your hands at your sides. Let me do it. Just relax.”

Out of the question. No man could be expected to relax while a woman rubbed against his face with her breasts—velvety, plump playthings that carried the scent of rainwater and desire. Yet he stopped touching her, somehow. “Sarah, let me—”

“Soon.” With slow, yet constant movements she teased him, sliding back and forth, never letting a nipple rest very long against his parted lips.

He loved it. He hated it. He wanted her so much he was afraid he’d start drooling. With every gentle motion, his penis grew harder, pressing painfully against the zipper of his fly.

At last she paused, one erect nipple touching his mouth. “Now you may.”

With a sigh of pleasure he sucked in and thought he might come right there. She tasted incredible and her little gasps of delight made him light-headed with desire. Then she offered her other breast, and he lifted a hand to caress the one he’d so recently enjoyed.

She grasped his hand and guided it to her belt buckle. “Here,” she said softly.

Lord, she was bold. Wonderfully bold. He’d always dreamed of an encounter like this, but never imagined he’d be lucky enough to have one. His heart beating hard and fast, he unfastened her belt, undid the top button of her jeans and pulled down her zipper.

“Yes.” The word came out as a sigh.

He needed no more encouragement. Her jeans and panties slipped easily over her slim hips. She lifted each knee in turn, and then, just like that, he was alone in this cave with a naked woman.

A naked woman who was guiding his mouth lower. Lord in heaven, he’d hit the lottery today. Sometimes his lovers would turn shy on him and he’d have to coax them into this maneuver he loved. But there was nothing shy about this woman if she’d take such a caress from a man she’d just met. He should have made the acquaintance of more female artists.

Or perhaps the darkness of the cave made all the difference for her. In any case, she’d invited him to explore her most intimate treasure, which made him a happy man. He pressed his lips against her warm, salty skin, gliding down the valley between her ribs as he braced his hands on the ledge and slid to his knees on the cave floor.

Once there, he started to cup her bottom in both hands.

“No,” she murmured. “No hands.”

“Why?” he asked, his lips brushing her skin.

“I want…to be in charge.”

He had no quarrel with that. She could direct him as long as she liked, if this was his reward. He gripped the ledge so he wouldn’t forget her conditions as he continued his journey to paradise.

When he reached her belly and dipped his tongue into her naval, she quivered. Ticklish or very aroused. He’d bet on the latter. As for him, he was in agony, his penis straining to be free, to be stroked, to be brought to climax. But he would endure a little while longer.