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“Yes,” he said huskily, his fingers eager on the buttons of her blouse.
She smiled seductively up at him as he slipped the blouse off. “Darling, am I to feed you with my clothes off?” she said, her lips parting in a slight gasp as he bent over and flicked his tongue over one of her nipples.
“You are feeding a different sort of hunger than that for food,” Runner said, his hands now at the waist of her skirt, lowering it past her hips.
“Will you also feed my hunger?” she asked in a soft purring voice as he continued disrobing her, finishing by tossing her boots aside.
“You will soon see,” Runner said. He grabbed her up into his arms and carried her to the bed.
As she stretched out on her back on the soft blankets, she watched with a thudding heartbeat as he quickly disrobed himself. She felt a twinge of guilt again for this happiness that she was sharing with the man of her desire, when Pure Blossom had no one.
And the child—what of the child? Couldn’t it be a blessing in disguise? The child might be the only one whom Pure Blossom would have to share her life with.
Stephanie shook her thoughts aside and reveled in how it felt to have Runner’s body against hers again as he came to her and lay over her, drawing her into the warmth of his body. He nudged her legs apart with one knee so that she could feel the heat of his manhood probing where she throbbed with sexual need of him.
He kissed her, his mouth hot, demanding, and wonderful. She was overwhelmed with a wild desire for him and twined her arms around his neck to draw him even more tightly against her. She pressed her breasts up into his chest, savoring the feel of his muscular body.
When he thrust himself into her, she threw her legs around him and locked them at her ankles. She thrust her pelvis toward him and rode him, movement for movement. Surges of ecstasy were welling within her, spreading, drenching her with warmth.
When he moved his lips down and swept his tongue around her breasts, she caught her breath, not daring to breathe for fear of disturbing the soft melting energy that was swimming through her.
When their eyes met, they locked in an unspoken understanding, promising ecstasy, the air heavy with the inevitability of pleasure.
“It’s been too long,” Stephanie murmured, twining her fingers through his thick, dark hair.
She drew his mouth to her lips. Their tongues touched, and then he kissed her again, his hands seeking her breasts. Her breasts were warm beneath his fingers, his thumbs circled her rose-tipped nipples, his mouth seared into hers with intensity, leaving her breathless.
Runner felt the nerves in his body tensing, a tremor beginning from deep within him as one kiss blended into another. He locked his arms around her and held her in a torrid embrace, fiercely anchoring her as his eager mouth tasted her sweetness.
The blaze of urgency set fire to his insides, leaping higher, a wild, exuberant passion spinning through his veins. His hands cupped the rounded flesh of her bottom and held her up to him as he filled her innermost depths with his throbbing hardness.
He groaned against her lips as he felt himself at the edge of that brink that would take him into total bliss.
He paused, laid his cheek against one of her breasts and took a deep breath, then plunged one last time deeply into her. He held her tightly as their bodies shook and quaked, their pleasure spilling over into each other, as though one being, one soul, one heartbeat.
Stephanie clung to him. She licked his neck, then kissed it. “I want to share this with you every day of my life,” she whispered.
When he looked down at her, he framed her face between his hands. “You know what you are saying?” he said thickly. “You know what you are giving up?”
“My darling Runner, I’m gaining everything that I want in life when I marry you,” she murmured, smiling softly up at him. “Don’t you know? You, you alone, are my only passion now.”
“And what of your passion for photography?” he asked, searching her eyes for the truth.
“Sometimes one must make choices,” Stephanie said, touching his cheek gently. “I have made mine.”
“What of your camera and equipment?”
“They will belong to someone else.”
“You can give them up so easily?”
“Are they my reason for living?”
“I would hope not.”
“You are, Runner. I willingly give up my past life for you.”
“You seem too independent to do that.”
