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He’s so beautiful…
He really was. All sharp, angular features. Soft, full lips. He had a European look about him too, either Greek or Italian, one that lent his handsomeness an exotic edge. And those brilliant blue eyes…
A week ago I’d have been so intimidated by a guy like this, I would’ve been immediately forced to turn away. But now I was staring unapologetically into those eyes. Kissing those amazing lips while holding his perfectly-formed, gorgeous face…
Oh yeah. While fucking him.
Every breath I took brought me upward along the length of his thickness. Every exhale sank me deeper on his cock. We enjoyed each other slowly, so as not to wake the others, taking pleasure in the depths of our intimacy. Screwing our bodies tigthly together as a single, writhing being.
“Oh shit…” I whimpered, as I passed the point of no return. “Oh shit oh shit oh…”
“Shhhh!”
Jeremy’s hand clamped over my mouth. It only made me hotter. I screwed down one last time, squealing into his palm as I got myself off. My pussy erupted around him. I was so wet it coated his balls. So drenched it ran down the insides of our thighs…
“You’re going to kill me,” he said, his face contorted in pain. Only it wasn’t pain. It was raw nirvanic pleasure.
“The things you do,” he breathed, “you’re going to—”
His sentence ended in the flesh of my shoulder. Jeremy bit down as he exploded inside me, leaving teethmarks but drawing no blood. My toes curled as he kept squeezing and throbbing, pumping me full of his seed.
Someone shifted. Someone on the other side of me.
Oh Fuck…
My jaw clenched in pain as I rode out his orgasm, clutching my lover’s head to my chest. Eventually he stopped biting. He cock stopped twitching. We looked at each other and smiled, then kissed some more in the afterglow. All I could feel was heat and wetness. All I could smell was the cloying scent of sex.
We slid apart after our mutual climax, silently thrilled that we’d pulled it off. I was sure I could drift off to sleep now. Especially with Jeremy reaching out and slowly playing with my hair.
We both froze as someone cleared their throat.
“You guys had better not be tired tomorrow,” groaned Boone loudly, before rolling over and taking one of the sleeping bags with him.
Forty-Eight
MORGAN
Stepping through the opening was like stepping into a different world. Like trading the warmth and comfort of our familiar little womb for the raging, ice-covered chaos of nature.
I felt the wind at once, whipping at my legs. Finding every crack and crevasse of my torn ski pants, tearing away at every centimeter of exposed skin.
“THIS WAY!” Shane shouted, stomping off. “NEVER GO AHEAD OF ME AND KEEP MOVING, EVEN WHEN WE’RE CLEARING SNOW!”
Though he was out in front, he hung back enough to leave the bulk of the work to Boone and Jeremy. They slogged forward single file, leaving giant leg-prints in the snow that I used to follow behind them.
Memories came flooding back; the fury of the avalanche, the dark terror of realizing I was trapped beneath the snow. Recollections of being so bitter cold I stopped feeling it anymore, followed by the nagging worry of certain frostbite.
It was a miracle we’d made it — any one of us. And yet four of us had somehow found the same snowbound hotel, the same place that had saved us from the elements and kept us alive for the better part of a week.
But Faith…
My stomach churned. For a while I’d put my friend out of my head, convinced myself that she’d somehow been spared. But now that we were back outside? A fresh wave of doubt crept over me. It made me sick. Nauseous.
“IT WAS FURTHER THAT WAY!” I heard Jeremy telling Shane.
“NO IT WASN’T!”
“YES IT WAS! I—”
