Read an excerpt:
Ellen leant forwards and took hold of Clayton’s face. She rubbed her fingers over the shadow of his beard and smiled.
“I could use a shave.”
She nodded. “But not right now.”
He shook his head. “Not right now.”
When he pressed his lips against hers, she gasped. His mouth was soft and warm, his breath sweet and hot. He kissed her with experience and tenderness and she melted into his embrace. As if making her decisions for her, her legs parted and he slipped between them. Only the material of their clothing kept them divided.
Her heartbeat quickened. Desire pulsed through her, awakening her senses like the rains returning life to a sun scorched creek bed.
As Clayton’s kisses became more insistent, Ellen’s need grew. It had been a lifetime since she’d really wanted a man. Even with Mr Hawkins, her feelings had been but a shadow of the lust that now burned from her very core.
Maybe it was due to her heightened emotions following Stella’s labour, or maybe it was due to the fact that she knew that this was for her. Not for money. Not for Al. Not for anyone else’s benefit. Just for her.
She sighed as Clayton lifted her skirts, pushing them over her knees. He took hold of her garters and removed them before sliding down her stockings. When he ran his hands up and down her legs, from knee to ankle, Ellen bit her lip. The anticipation was too much. She felt sure that she would explode.
She pulled him towards her and wrapped her legs around his waist. His erection bulged at the front of his pants and she ground her pussy against it, overwhelmed by the need to feel him inside her.
Clayton kissed her then fingered the neckline of her gown.
“Can I…” His eyes were dark with desire.
Ellen nodded and helped him to unbutton the front of her dress. She shrugged out of the bodice before standing and sliding it down to her feet.
“There!” She grinned.
Clayton stared at her as if he’d never seen a half-naked woman before. Ellen wanted to sing with joy. He looked at her with hunger and need but not the regular detached lust she was accustomed to seeing. Clayton didn’t want just any old pussy. He wanted her. Her pussy.
He ran his hands up her legs and over her hips. She held them there for a moment then pushed her bloomers down. When she unlaced her corset, her hands shook and Clayton had to help her to pull the laces from the holes.
Then she stood before him. Clad in just her flimsy chemise.
Every breath she took made her bosoms tremble.
She knew that Clayton saw this.
She was hot and wet between her legs.
She knew that Clayton was aware of this.
She wanted him.
And she knew that he wanted her too.
She lifted the hem of her chemise then lifted it over her head, pulling off the scarf that held back her hair in the process.
She was about to kneel but he stopped her moving with his strong hands.
Did he not want her now that he had seen her? Her heart sank.
But when he buried his face in the ebony curls covering her sex, she understood. He intended on pleasuring her first. She shuddered as primitive need coursed through her and he took control of her body.
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