Page 13 of A Kiss Stolen


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Her touch …

I can feel myself tremble as she splays her fingers over my skin, leaving a burning warmth in its wake. Excitement like I have never known wreaks havoc inside me. I drink in her taste one more time and pull myself away with super human restraint, the growl erupting from my lips is a reflection of the crazy sensations inside me.

I gaze into her eyes, my heart pounding hard. “Go on,” I dare her. “Do it. Finish the job. Kill me and you will be free to go back to your father.”

Her chest rises and falls as rapidly as mine, her cheeks are flushed a bright red, her mouth swollen from my assault and her eyes, deep unending pools that foretold my doom nine years ago. Even then I knew I was looking straight at what had the ability to imprison my soul.

Her hand tightens, her fingers press on my Adam’s apple. I feel the air become constricted. The cells in my body begin to scream for oxygen. I know she is waiting for me to push her hands away. That would be victory for her. My eyes begin to bulge. My cock is still rock hard, but I feel something in the base of my spine begin to flutter uncontrollably. I have to fight every cell, every instinct for survival inside my body not to knock her hands away.

But I do. She will not win. I know she does not have the guts to kill me. Killing me will be like killing herself. For we are one. Tears fill her eyes. With a sob she releases my neck, and waves of pleasure rush through my body as I take large gasping gulps of air. She just watches me with a mixture of horror and shock in her eyes. She thinks she has hurt me, but she has just given me the best victory of my life.

She reaches up to kiss me once again but I hold onto her shoulders and pin her back to the mattress. A kiss is too intimate … No more of that. I’m not ready to fall any deeper into her trap.

“I need my dick serviced, not my heart,” I snarl.

Reaching for her round breasts, I grab the full mounds in my hands. She winces at my rough touch, but then bites down on her bottom lip in such a sexy way, I become convinced that her goal is to drive me mad.

Lowering my head, I suck hard on her nipple, and enjoy the pull along my dick. Her moan, soft and like a charm brings an odd sensation of tenderness in my heart. I release the hard bud of one breast and move to the other. I lick, suck, and tug while her nails leave scratches across my back as she gyrates her hips against my cock.

Moving from her breasts I trace kisses down the soft white skin of her belly. I rip away her panties the moment I arrive at her hips. She immediately closes her thighs like an insect eating flower, trapping my head between her legs. With a smile, I slide a hand up to her chest to hold her down and take her sweet clit in my mouth. It sends a thick trickle of her juice flowing from her opening. When I lap it all up with one hard swipe of my tongue, she almost shoots off the bed.

“Brand,” she cries hoarsely.

I press her back down. Fuck, I can’t get enough of the taste of this woman. I dip my tongue even deeper into her, then pull it out to smack it hard against the lips of her virgin cunt. My fingers soon join in the assault, sliding in and out of her, while my tongue teases her clit.

All she can do is writhe like a cut snake and emit unintelligent animal sounds.

I lift my head to watch her. I want to see what I’m doing to her. Panting, disoriented, her eyelids half-closed, and her fingers tangled in her hair, she is a hot mess. Her hands shoot out, grab me, and pull me to her. I let myself be pulled up and down on her, her hips grind desperately against my dick. I take my shaft in my hands and slide it up and down her soaking folds. Positioning the tip at her entrance I start to force myself into her. Her eyes widen and she makes a strangled sound at her very first taste of the carnal copulation between a man and a woman.

I am big and she is extremely small and tight.

At her wince of pain, I almost pull out until I remember that my mission is not to give her pleasure. Even so for reasons I care not to think about I cannot bring myself to hurt her at that moment. I restrain myself as much as I can and telling her to relax, I slowly, very slowly, inch by inch make my way into her.

Until I am balls deep in her body.

It is unbelievable, but I’m finally, finally inside Liliana Eden. My chest tightens with a feeling of animalistic and savage possession. The walls of her pussy grip my dick as tightly as a fist and I give in to the groan that erupts from me. Savoring every bit of the achingly sweet pleasure I begin to thrust my hips. Slowly at first, then faster and faster.

She gasps at the tumult of lust that zaps though her body. Strangely, even I feel as though it is my first time. I keep on increasing my speed until my hips are near ramming her off the bed. Meeting my frenzied thrusts, she buckles in for the ride, her hands tightly wrapped around my shoulders as she directs her incoherent cries towards the ceiling.

“Brand … fu … fuck. Oh … f-ffuu … fuckkk … Brand …”

The call of my name has never sounded so sweet. I stare at her, fascinated by the passion of the woman in my arms. She is like a dream that turned into a nightmare, then back to a dream. Soon her whole body begins to quiver. She is about to explode and for some completely inexplicable reason, which has never happened to me before, I want to come with her.

Desperate to do so with her, I forego rhythm and fuck her like a ferocious beast. Her orgasm sets off mine as we roar out together at the fireworks of uncontainable lust. Every vein in my body juts against my skin as the throes of raw, primal sex course through my entire being.

I do not know how long it takes for us both to return to sanity, but when we do, I open my eyes to meet hers. Her pupils are so dilated her irises are almost black. Our faces are so close to one another I am breathing her in and she is breathing me.

I realize with a sense of almost panic that I am holding tightly to her as if my life depended on it, or I care about her, which obviously, I don’t. I just lust for her body. Before I can let go she throws her arms around me and captures my mouth in a deep kiss. The taste of her completely undoes me. I want to fuck her all over again, but I know I can’t. I’m too exhausted by the emotions she aroused inside me. I roll away from her with the intention of leaving instantly. I need to think, but she grabs my wrist. I look down at her.

“Just stay with me for a few seconds, please,” she says softly.

I collapse by her side and shut my eyes. I should go. I know I should. She is too dangerous, but a few seconds later, I reach for her and pull her roughly into me, her perfect buttocks cushioned perfectly against my dick.

Just a few minutes, I tell myself.

I fail. My brain shuts down for the night and drags me into a sleep that no demons are able to wake me up from.

At least a solid six to seven hours later I come awake to the morning sun filtering in through the curtains. With the fog of sleep still upon me, I am not sure of where I am, or why I feel so at peace. Something incredibly warm is pressed against me, and it feels so sweet that I look down in wonder at the angel in my arms. The moment the angel registers as my greatest enemy, I immediately jump up in horror.

My movement is so sudden I send the lamp on the bedside table crashing to the ground, which jerks her awake. Disoriented by the sudden commotion she looks at me curiously.

Furious with myself, I spring off the bed. What the fuck am I doing?

“Are you okay?” she asks, rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.

I don’t respond. I don’t even bother to pick up my clothes. I just turn around and stomp butt-naked out of the room.

Chapter Sixteen

Brand

I wake u

p suddenly, the dream breaking around me.

“Ma,” I whisper in the darkness, before I realize the astonishingly vivid images were only an echo from the past.

It was Ma, slathering homemade mayonnaise on her hair to make it shiny and thick, and Da was teasing her about it. Telling her he wouldn’t mind the smell so much if it could make her grow a couple of inches taller. My mother was tiny, five feet two inches tall so my father, who well over six feet, took great delight in teasing her about her height. He was also finding new nicknames for her: Little Ant, Shortcake, Midge, Ankle biter. The list was long and colorful.

I get out of bed and pace the floor. Restless. It’s been a long time since I dreamed of Ma. Now in the darkness, memories of her tumble into my head. I’ve made myself forget a great deal of the past, but never her eyes.

They were unforgettable.

Dark, long, and filled with mystery; the eyes of a sorcerer. Probably because she was one. Ma read the tea leaves and cards. Da and me would come home from some gig, and other women from the compound would be leaving our caravan. In her hand Ma would be clutching a five or a ten-pound note, a smile for Da and me, tugging at her lips.

Once when I was still very young I asked her to do a reading for me. She smiled sadly and explained that she had spent her whole life reading the fortunes of many people. More often than not, she had to lie to people about what she saw, because there was always more bad than good in their path. She said she loved me too much to consult the heartless cards for me. She couldn’t bear it if she saw something bad.

Sometimes I wondered if that gentle creature ever read her own leaves. If she knew how she would meet her maker, but decided out of the kindness of her heart not to tell us? If she knew her last words would be, “Don’t.” Or that she would fall dead on the very floor of the kitchen she had spent the afternoon on her hands and knees cleaning. Then I think, no, if she had known she never would have wasted her afternoon in that way. Or maybe, knowing her, she did know, but in death as in life she wanted her body to fall on a clean surface.

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