Sticky fingers Sweeter than his smile Dripping cream Licking her lips Sliding tongue Her favorite dessert The rattle of the canister as she shook the bottle sent a perverse thrill through her. “Are you going to let me up?” She glanced over her shoulder at him and let the smile she’d been suppressing burst forward. …
“Dinner is served.” The clink of silverware against porcelain should have grated her nerves. A porcine man to her left chewed with a vigor that rivaled that of the animal he resembled; nauseating in its sound and visual component. The woman directly across from her continued to drone on about her latest shopping venture in …
A dignified affair No tie, no suit Seated comfortably A sophisticated feast An arm slid around her waist just as she lifted the pan to turn the omelet. She let out an undignified squeal nearly dropping her food. He wrapped a steadying hand around hers. “Morning.” She turned her attention back to the dish. “Mmm, …
“Wider.” His hands pressed until her thighs shook with the strain. “Comfortable?” Her eyes jerked to his, knowing fire shot from their depths but unable to hide her irritation. He took acute satisfaction in her vexation as well as her pleasure, but this she refused to indulge him on. “Quite,” she bit out, arching her …
Sounds floated through the cracked door. The low murmur of voices, the scrape of chairs along the floor, silverware clattering against plates, and wine being poured seemed a distant buzz under the frantic beat of her heart. His moist breath fanned over the space where neck and shoulder met. Her naked skin pulled taut, goosebumps …
What does it mean for you to obey me? His question bounced around in her mind as she struggled to quell the tremble of her limbs. She’d assumed her practiced pose the moment she’d walked into the room, trying to ignore both her discomfort and irritation at waiting there for him. The ache in her …
Sometimes it’s good, you know? I do it to see if I’m getting better or worse. I wrote this last March and figured I’d repost. On initial drafting, I had worries about how this would be received or interpreted. Really it’s just a story. And it’s a draw on the writing. I could feel you. …
Trying to get my mind working again. Her hands, so thin and delicate, slid up the outside of her thighs to rest on the bottom curve of her ass. She bent slightly at the waist, her fingertips caressing along the seam as her cheeks spread. “Show me.” She glanced over her shoulder, a flush heating …
It’s a bit long, but I’m looking for help. Here are two unedited versions of beginnings for Hunter’s Gazelle. I’m asking for your opinion on each. Comments are closed so I’ll put a contact form for you to privately send your opinion. I’d appreciate the constructive critique. – 1) Sweat trickled down her face as …
Getting a story started. Hang tight. “Miss, you’ll have to hold your coat until after all the luggage is stowed.” “Oh, I’m sorry. I…” Missy glanced up from digging in her purse and the words died on her tongue. Her jacket was five inches from her face, but her eyes bypassed it to the tan …