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She gave a few steps forward. “It’s not lunacy, it’s natural.”
“I don’t think so because I can’t control it.” His nostrils expelled tense air.
“Of course not. You’re a healthy young man with healthy appetites,” she reassured him.
“A little too healthy, wouldn’t you say?”
“Let me help you,” she said without subterfuge.
His erection twitched at her suggestion, his eyes fixed on her, heated behind the lenses.
He never moved as she approached to a mere two feet from his magnificent member. A delicate hand wrapped around the thick stem. His head fell down with a moan, his hips thrusting in her hand.
“Bluidy hell!”
Her palm tunnelled the length of him slowly, using the prepuce to cover, then uncover the scarlet, leaky glans. And repeated it while Samuel fell against the wall with no will to go on standing.
“F— Hell, Harriet!” he mumbled in between pants. “I couldn’t stop thinking of the place you said I’d fit in you.” Her fingers moved up and down his silky, firm girth while he pushed his hips off the wall into her touch. “Woke up all wet and sticky this morning.”
“And I was damp with the need of it,” she revealed when her other hand stroked his taut balls.
“If only—oh—” he groaned weak with her ministrations. “I’m imagining how it would be for you to sheath me in that tight, hot place,” he externalised his fantasies.
In the throes of passion, he yanked her bodice down and grabbed one breast with his desperate mouth, accelerating his hips.
At this point, Harriet’s core dripped with the sight of his pure delectation and the suckling on her breast. In her mind, she saw him thrusting in her with all his vitality.
“I’d go mad with pleasure,” he said.
The tip of him dribbled with his juices, which her hand had smeared on every hard inch of his spectacular erection. The effect being he fairly ate at her nipple with the urgency he felt.
“Faster, Harriet, or I assure you I’ll be delirious!”
She sped up as his balls tightened in preparation for spilling. His spine arched further from the wall, his jaw ticking when his head bent back, unable to pay any more attention to her breast.
“It’s so much better when you do it!”
His shaft became harder, his glans redder, wetter, the veins protruding. An undulation on the base of him told her he was close.
Now she concentrated on the tip, appearing and disappearing from the prepuce. The first drop of his delivery surfaced, his hips got frantic, his face crumpled in a fierce, crimson scowl. His ejaculation started in earnest, jets and more jets launching from the slit on the glans. She did not stop, listening to his serrated breaths and stifled grunts. When he fell limp against the wall, she considered her task complete. Her spine met the surface beside him.
Dazed with his enjoyment, the sight of his arousal and release put her in a state of desire she was trying very hard to abate.
Next to her, his breath had evened, his tousled reddish-brown head turned to her. His hair would never cease to amaze her, not really auburn, or dark-auburn, it possessed a shade if its own, one for which she had no name.
Suddenly, his manly arms suspended her from the carpet, one bared breast, skirts flaring in the air. “What—?”
Her back met the counterpane on his bed when she looked up at him to have a wave of heat bludgeon her. Gaping white shirt, breeches mid-thighs, his appendage dangling from the ginger nest. Oh, yes, now she knew what shade coloured his intimate parts, and liked it—dash! more than liked it.
“I’ll tidy up later,” he said, as he joined her.
One of his legs wedged between hers, one arm laced beneath her waist, the other went under her shoulders, his hot member accommodated on her dress. The hot lengthening of him, that is. As though this avalanche of sensation was not enough, the man dived to kiss her. He was becoming very good at it, too good, masterful even. Or she began to like it a lot, too much, exaggeratedly so, perhaps. Fact was she embarked on his caress with carefree abandon, gluing her frame to his, winding her arms around him. He smelled so good, the weight of him so snugly on her, the heat they made together so encompassing.
“Hm,” he groaned, “I could carry on kissing you for eternity.” And did exactly that.
Much as his words melted her, they made her remember where they were, what time it was and that the house held more people in it. Still, she succumbed for several heartbeats before she gathered enough strength to put a stop to it.
Holding his shoulders, she coaxed him to look at her. “Samuel,” it came as a pitiful sigh. “We can’t do this!” Eyes wide on him, anxiety on her expression.
