Happy
Sunday to everyone! Per tradition, I have another kiss excerpt for
you today. This one’s a luscious bit from my polyamory story Truce of Trust.
When
you’re done reading my snog (and you’ve recovered your senses!),
head to Victoria’s Sunday Snog Central for more sexy lip locks.
Blurb
How can a woman choose between her husband and her Master?
Some
women might think Leah's existence heavenly. She shares her home with
two sexy men who both adore her. Ten years married to lusty, artistic
Daniel, she still enjoys the discipline and release offered by Greg.
But her lovers' jealousy and possessiveness have made Leah's life a
hell. Unable to bear the continuous conflict, she flees to an
idyllic seaside resort to ponder her future. Gradually she realises
that she cannot live without either of her lovers. If the two men
can't settle their differences, though, then how can she bear to live
with them?
~~~~
“I’m
home!” Leah’s voice rang through the silent house. No one
answered, but she noticed the screened doors to the deck were open to
the balmy September breeze. Someone must be around.
She
parked her overnight bag near the door, dumped her briefcase onto a
chair and headed down to the basement. Daniel was probably in his
studio; he wouldn’t have heard her.
Two
doors faced her at the foot of the stairs. Leah cracked open the one
on the right, peeking inside. She didn’t want to distract her
husband if he was in the throes of a creative fervour.
Daniel
hunched over the synthesiser, his eyes closed, while his nimble
fingers danced across the keys. Headphones nestled in his lush, black
curls, sealing him away in his magic world of sound. He had the face
of a Renaissance poet, elegant features harmoniously arranged—finely
drawn cheekbones, strong nose, arched brows, sensual lips. His
buccaneer moustache offset the androgyny of his countenance, giving
him the air of a rake, and indeed, he could dream up some extravagant
mischief when he chose. Now, though, he was focused inward, listening
to the melodies in his head.
Love
clutched at Leah’s chest, as it always did when she beheld his
beauty. She ached to touch him. She imagined herself standing behind
him, resting her palms lightly on his shoulders, feeling the shift
and surge of his muscles as he played. She wanted to brush that stray
curl away from his pale forehead, to run her tongue down the side of
his neck and along his collarbone where it disappeared under his Led
Zeppelin T-shirt. She would reach around to his chest, circling his
sensitive nipples as her own tightened and throbbed, challenging him
to ignore her caresses if he could.
Instead,
she simply watched him, marvelling at his grace. She was about to
shut the door and leave him in peace when his green eyes snapped
open.
“Leah!”
He tossed the earphones onto a pile of sheet music beside him. “Why
didn’t you say something?” In an instant, he was in front of her,
cradling her against his chest. “God, I missed you.”
He
swept her into a kiss whose intensity confirmed his words. His mouth
locked onto hers, his lips soft but his tongue brazen. He tasted of
coffee and tobacco, his two vices while he was working. His passion
melted her, as it always did. Her legs turned to rubber. Hot juices
pooled between her thighs.
His
swelling erection prodded her, through his jeans and the fabric of
her dressy trousers. He reached between their bodies and unzipped
her. His long fingers slipped into the opening, wriggled under the
elastic of her panties and came to rest nestled in her bush. He moved
his fingertips in gentle circles across her pubis in an intimate,
teasing massage.
“Did
you miss me?” he murmured, close to her ear. Leah tilted her
pelvis, working without success to bring her hungry clit into contact
with his roving fingers.
“Of
course,” she replied, cupping his bulk in her palm to seize the
offensive. It was true. In the middle of the afternoon’s editorial
meeting, she’d had a sudden, highly distracting vision of Daniel
lying naked on their bed, stroking his cock. Mr. Jamison, seeing her
flush, had inquired sharply whether she was feverish. She had to
excuse herself to go splash some cold water on her face.
Did
Daniel actually jack himself off while she was at work? She ran her
thumb over his denim-covered hardness and was rewarded by his shudder
of pleasure. His potency still astonished her, after ten years of
marriage. He was the only multi-orgasmic man she’d ever known. He
might well have relieved his tension during the afternoon and still
be stone-hard as he was now. “But you didn’t wait for me, did
you?”
His
finger slipped between her swollen lips and brushed the tip of her
clit. She gasped, circles of pleasure rippling out through her body
from that hidden centre. He was driving her crazy.
“Do
you mind?” He bent to her lips again, this kiss more yielding,
almost a supplication.
Leah
lost herself in his arms. She parted her thighs, silently begging him
for satisfaction. Inside the tight confines of her panties and
trousers, Daniel’s skilful fingers worked their magic. Sensation
built upon sensation, every touch a new thrill as he stroked,
kneaded, and pinched her flesh. A climax coiled in her pelvis,
tighter with every moment, the delicious ache making her jerk and
writhe on the fingers that impaled her.
“I
never get off without thinking of you,” he whispered in her ear. At
the same time, he plunged his hand deep into her cleft. His words and
his fingers together sent her spinning off the edge. The knot of
tension suddenly unravelled, sending tendrils of pleasure whipping
through her. She jerked and shuddered as delight exploded in her sex
then expanded to include her whole being.
Leah
would have slumped to her knees if Daniel’s hand had not still been
embedded in her crotch. He wiggled his fingers, waking echoes of her
cataclysm. When he was sure she could stand, he pulled his hand out
of her damp garments. Grinning, he licked each of his fingers with a
flourish.
“You’re
outrageous.” Leah sank into a convenient chair, still a bit shaky.
“You
inspire me.” Daniel unzipped his jeans. “See what I mean?”
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