Tuesday, July 30, 2019

The Bet (Masturbation Monday #256 & Wicked Wednesday #374 )

This story was initially inspired by the Masturbation Monday prompt from a couple weeks ago. My muse wasn't cooperating then, though, so I shelved it. I finally finished it, incorporating this week's Masturbation Monday and Wicked Wednesday prompts.

Please click on the badges below the story to read all the other amazing posts!

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

The Bet
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

Note to self: don't get involved in juvenile competitions with a wily coworker.

Even I had to admit that breaking into his hotel room was a step too far, but my curiosity got the better of me…once again.

We'd been sent to a secluded resort to pitch our ideas to the owner. Whichever ad campaign he liked best meant a lucrative account for the winner—and a promotion.

Then there was the side bet. Like an idiot, I agreed to it. But my colleague was just so confident he was going to win, I had to wipe that self-assured look off of his face. I could also be a little competitive. Okay, a lot competitive.

If he won the ridiculous bet, I had to be his slave for a week—at his beck and call 24/7. If I won…well, I wasn't sure what I wanted yet. The fact that I was insanely attracted to the infuriating man complicated matters.

Although I wasn't clear on what my prize would be, I was determined to win. Hence the reason I was currently hiding in his closet.

Our presentations weren't until tomorrow, so we had the day to relax and enjoy the resort. I'd been lounging by the pool, soaking up the sun, when he appeared. Looking unreasonable hot in his swim trunks, he claimed a spot right across from me—undoubtedly so I couldn't miss him.

It wasn't long before several ladies were vying for his attention. He seemed particularly interested in a leggy blonde. While I sat there stewing, trying to convince myself that the whole scene shouldn't annoy me so much, he kept flashing me a smile filled with arrogance.

My mind started churning, wondering why he was so confident. Why was he so sure he was going to win? Did he know something I didn't? Did he have an ace up his sleeve?

I couldn't take it anymore and left the pool, a crazy scheme forming in my head. I figured the blonde would keep him occupied for a while, so I acquired a keycard to his room at the front desk by means of subterfuge.

Once I was in his room, I looked around for his laptop, which I assumed contained his presentation. I wasn't planning to steal it or sabotage him. I just wanted to know what I was up against. Maybe there was time to fine-tune my own presentation if I thought it was necessary.

Try as I might, I couldn't find his laptop anywhere. Since he didn't look like he had it with him at the pool, the only other place it could be was in the hotel room safe—the code to which I didn't have. I was about to make some lucky guesses when I heard the outer room door lock engage.

Short on options, I ducked into the walk-in closet. Him catching me snooping in his room was a complication that might get me fired. Through the slats in the door, I saw his bare legs backlit in the open doorway.

I didn't know which idea horrified me more. That he might discover me. Or that he brought the blonde back to his room for some afternoon delight and I'd be forced to watch.

He stopped right in front of the closet for a heart-pounding moment, then went over to the bed. Thankfully, he appeared to be alone. I watched as he sat down on the end of the bed facing me and leaned back on his elbows.

As if he could see me, a slow smile spread across his face. "I know you're in there."

He was bluffing.

"I smelled that heavenly perfume you always wear as I walked by."

It wasn't perfume. It was my bodywash, and I hadn't realized it was that noticeable.

"Were you planning to take a peek at my proposal?" He clucked his tongue. "Did you think I'd leave it out in the open?"

Closing my eyes, I suppressed a sigh.

"You might as well come out of there and face the music."

Did I mention that I'm also stubborn—even in the face of defeat? Naturally, I stayed right where I was.

"Okay, but it'll just make your punishment worse later on."

Why the sound of that sent a surge of adrenaline racing through my veins I wasn't exactly sure. It definitely wasn't from fear. Excitement was closer to the truth. It shouldn't have surprised me that I found the idea of him punishing me thrilling. I'd fantasized about it before—many times—but I'd never actually explored those urges.

Suddenly, my curiosity sped off on a different tangent. How would he punish me? My mind filled with possibilities, each more erotic than the last.

"I'm really going to enjoy spanking that sweet ass of yours."

Fuck, there it was. The secret desire I never dared to reveal to anyone. I could picture it so easily. He'd have me sprawled over his lap, his hard thighs pressing against my stomach. Ever so slowly, he'd push my skirt up to my waist. My thong would leave my backside exposed to his hungry gaze. There'd be a long tense moment of anticipation, then the first sweet sting of his hand coming down on my vulnerable flesh.

I bit my lip to stop myself from audibly revealing how much I enjoyed the thought of him spanking me. However, I couldn't control the way my body responded to my vivid imagination. I felt a flood of juices slipping between my cunt lips and soaking into my bathing suit.

"When I get that promotion—and the corner office with all the windows—do you know what I'm going to do?"

No, but I was sure he was about to tell me.

"I'll have you take off all your clothes. Slowly."

He slid one hand down his chest and cupped the blatant erection outlined by his snug swim trunks. My heart rate picked up for a much different reason.

"Mmmm, I can't wait to see those big tits you keep hidden behind those conservative tops."

His eyes closed, he slipped his hand inside his shorts, stroking his hard length before fondling his balls.

My thighs clenched tightly together, I made an involuntary sound—I couldn't help it. I swore I saw his pre-come making a wet spot on the fabric.

His eyes snapped open and a self-satisfied smirk spread across his face. He removed his hand from his trunks long enough to push them down and toss them onto the floor. And there he was—in his fully aroused glory.

"I'll have you lie across my desk, right in front of the windows, your legs dangling over the edge and spread wide apart."

He wrapped his hand around his cock and made one leisurely stroke from base to tip. The sight was so fucking hot, my inner muscles tightened with need.

"Then I'll have you play with your sweet little cunt, while I sit between your legs and watch."

The scene he painted called to all my naughtiest instincts. I was so aroused I did the unthinkable. Right there, while hiding in his closet, I slid my fingers beneath the drenched crotch of my swimsuit and delved between my slick slit. I didn't try to stop the moan that escaped when my fingers found my swollen clit.

"You'll get your horny snatch off for me, won't you, dirty girl?"

Blood roaring through my veins, I circled my clit in time with his quickening strokes. Watching him jerk off was a wicked fantasy come to life. The dirty talk made the illicit encounter insanely hot. My pleasure built hard and fast.

"Show me what a filthy little fuck slut you can be. Just for me."

The nasty name-calling pushed me over the edge. As a powerful orgasm ripped through me, I heard him grunt several times and saw him shoot a thick load of come all over his belly. My body trembling from the aftershocks, I sagged against the door. Even as I struggled to get enough air in my lungs, I had to fight the urge to finally reveal myself and lap up every drop of his come.

Several quiet moments passed before he showed signs of life. A lazy smile on his lips, he got up and walked towards the closet.

"I'm going to take a shower and give you a chance to escape from the closet."

When he reached the closet door, he whispered through the slats, "Ollie ollie in come free."

Then he was gone, leaving me with a stupid grin on my face.

I was more determined to win the bet than ever. But now, I knew exactly what I wanted…to let him make all my wildest dreams come true.

Saturday, July 27, 2019

Rosarita (Friday Flash #61)

This idea emerged thanks to the lovely Friday Flash image. It's in the same style of "By the River," "The Sign," "Sapphire Rose," and "The Forbidden Dance."

Please click on the badge below the story to read all the other Friday Flash posts.

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

Her name was Rosarita. Like most nights, she sang in the local cantina, pouring her heart out in songs filled with passion and despair.

People came from miles around to listen to her and forget their troubles for a while. Unfortunately, harsh reality found their safe haven.

The commander of the militia that terrorized them—with permission from the brutal dictator who ruled with an iron fist—had heard about the seductive songbird. With his officers in tow, he invaded the cantina, creating a rowdy boorish presence.

Quickly enraptured like so many others, he decided to claim what wasn't his. When Rosarita finished her last song and left the stage, he grabbed her and pulled her into his lap.

"You have the voice of an angel."

"Gracias, Comandante."

He squeezed her backside. "And look like one too."

She forced a comely smile.

"Aren't you going to invite me upstairs?"

"It would be my honor." The words tasted vile, but there was no other way.

Rosarita led him up to her room, her heart hammering. He forced her onto her bed and ripped her dress, exposing her chest. While he mauled her breasts, she retrieved the dagger she kept under her pillow and thrust it into his jugular.

His eyes wide with surprise, he lurched back, gasping. Without hesitation, she pushed him onto the floor, took the dagger from his neck, and plunged it into his heart for good measure.

That's how Guillermo found her, standing over the lifeless form. He was the owner of the cantina, the leader of the rebel forces, and Rosarita's lover.

Gently, he turned her to face him and cupped her face with his hand. "Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head. "I killed him before he had the chance."

He kissed her forehead and held her close for a precious moment.

"We need to act fast—while his men are drunk and disorganized."

Guillermo gave her an assessing look.

"Go on. I'll join you shortly."

He nodded, then left her.

She washed the commander's blood and stink from her skin before donning her fighter's garb.

It was a long night and much blood was spilt, but the rebels emerged victorious. The people won their freedom and danced in the town square on a carpet of rose petals. Rosarita was among them, twirling with overflowing joy. Guillermo watched her for a while, a smile on his lips, before finally joining her.

Much later, they writhed together on his bed in a timeless expression of desire. The sounds of their pleasure filled the small room. She gave herself to him with wild abandon and he took her to the gates of heaven, filling her with his seed.

When peace reigned, Guillermo reverted to his artistic nature and commemorated his love on the cantina wall. For generations, patrons imbibed the signature drink named for Rosarita as they looked at her mural. Some said the creamy pink concoction symbolized the treasure the loathsome commander never got to enjoy.

Tuesday, July 23, 2019

Talking in Your Sleep (Masturbation Monday #255 & Wicked Wednesday #373)

If you've been following my posts, you probably won't be surprised that I couldn't resist the Wicked Wednesday "Another Song" prompt. I listened to quite a few song possibilities, but pretty quickly settled on The Romantics "Talking in Your Sleep." There's a YouTube video of the song at the end of the story for your musical enjoyment.

Please click on the badges below the video to read all the other amazing posts!

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

Talking in Your Sleep
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

I wasn't a morning person, so I was rarely awake before him. For some reason, though, I found myself staring at his slumbering form as I lay beside him. In the early morning light, his face was relaxed and peaceful, a slight smile playing on his lips.

The urge to touch him was overwhelming. Well, touch him more than I already was with my body pressed along the length of his, my tits crushed against his chest and one leg draped over his. But I didn't want to disturb him, so I stayed as still as possible, silently admiring his eyelashes.

He murmured something unintelligible in his sleep and I realized that must have been what woke me. He was dreaming—something good by the sound of it and his broadening smile. Then he said something I did understand. My name.

Delighted he was dreaming about me, I couldn't stop the stupid grin from spreading across my face. It was only fair, after all, since I spent most of my nocturnal meanderings thinking about him and his wicked ways. My curiosity went into overdrive, wondering what was going on in his mind. I was undoubtedly doing something extremely filthy.

"Mmmm, want you."

That made two of us. A delicious ache lingered between my legs from the night before, but I felt my ever-present desire for him flaring to life once again. I was tempted to writhe against him and press my needy sex into his hip. That would probably wake him, though, and I wanted to hear what else he'd reveal in his sleep.

"I need you."

Yeah, I needed him too. I tried not to, I really did, because the situation was complicated. But I just couldn't resist him. I never felt more alive than I did when I was with him. We fed off each other, inspired each other. It was gratifying to know he felt the same way.

"I love you."

My heart stopped for a couple of beats, then picked back up in triple-time. I loved him from almost the beginning, but I didn't dare tell him. I thought he'd freak out and run for the hills, so I kept it casual.

He'd done a really good job of making me think I was nothing more than his naughty plaything—not that I minded. At all. Actually, I loved it. I never had any expectations about our relationship. Having him in a limited fashion was better than not having him at all. However, this revelation put a much different spin on things.

A frown suddenly formed on his face and he pulled me closer with the arm I'd been resting my head on. "Don't leave me."

Not caring if I woke him anymore, I pressed my mouth to his ear. "I'm not going anywhere."

He sighed contentedly, but didn't loosen his hold.

Trailing my lips along his jaw, I enjoyed the prickly feel of his morning stubble on my flesh. I kissed my way down his neck and chest to one of his small flat nipples. I circled it with my tongue and lightly sucked the tender nub.

Groaning, he slid his fingers into my hair and gripped a handful, lightly tugging on it just how he knew I liked. That subtle gesture of control really turned me on. I swear it reverberated throughout my body, the sensations finally concentrating in my cunt, making my inner muscles tighten wonderfully.

To give his other nipple the same loving attention, I shifted on top of him, straddling his hips, my arms braced on either side of his chest. His already hard length pressing against my shaved pussy. I couldn't resist rocking my hips, sliding my slick folds along his cock as I gently raked my teeth over his nipple.

He hissed out a breath and his grip on my hair tightened. "Fuck."

I was pretty sure he was awake at that point. When I looked up, I found his brilliant blue eyes staring back at me.

"Whatcha doin', naughty girl?"

"Hopefully making your dirty dream come true."

His lips slowly spread into a wicked grin and he loosened his grip. "By all means, don't let me stop you."

With that seal of approval, I teased his nipples a little more before kissing my way down to his groin, situating myself between his spread legs. For a moment, I nuzzled the crinkly hair there, breathing in his heavenly musky scent. He sucked in a breath when I licked up the length of his cock, but kept a light hold on my hair.

As I took the head of his cock in my mouth, I looked up and met his hungry gaze. While he watched, I softly sucked on the tip, my tongue massaging the sensitive spot just underneath. I tasted my own tangy essence on him and took my time savoring it.

He moaned. "Good girl."

Those two words lit me up in every way. Yes, I had a long history of being a good girl. Growing up, I was usually teacher's pet. But with him, it took on a completely different connotation I thrived on. I was his good girl when I'd pleased him. When I'd been his filthy fucking come slut. And I totally got off on it. His pleasure was my pleasure—especially when it involved something dirty.

I sucked him deep into my mouth until he nudged the back of my throat, making me gag a bit. Fighting the sensation for a moment, I held him there, drooling all over his cock.

"You're such a sweet little cock whore."

The nasty names were an accelerant on my burning arousal. It didn't have anything to do with humiliation. I loved being his "bad" girl" and knew he appreciated how naughty I could be for him. Only him. I was so fucking horny I pressed my thighs together to relieve the needy ache in my cunt.

My weight braced on one hand, I used the other to fondle his balls while I established a steady rhythm of moving my mouth up and down his shaft. He carried on a litany of dirty compliments as I sucked him off in long strokes.

At some point, I noticed my hips rocking in time with my sucking motion, trying to give myself the friction I desperately craved.

Not missing a thing, he said, "Get that horny slut cunt off while you suck my cock."

Whimpering my gratitude, I released his balls and slipped my hand between my legs. I easily found my swollen clit between my drenched cunt lips and circled it hard and fast. It didn't take long before I was on the knife's edge of orgasm. My bobbing on his dick became a little erratic as I got closer and closer. Moaning around his cock, I came on my fingers, shuddering in release.

That must have been too much for him, because he followed me into sweet oblivion, filling my mouth with his thick and salty come. Still trembling with pleasure, I swallowed it all like the greedy come slut I was, even lapping up a few stray drops.

After several minutes, he pulled me up so I was sprawled alongside of him again. He took my head between his hand and gave me a possessive kiss that stole what little breath I had. Apparently, he didn't mind tasting himself on my tongue.

When he eventually pulled back, his gaze was ardent. "I love you."

It was even sweeter hearing it while he was wide awake. "So I heard. You've been talking in your sleep."

He frowned. "Oh."

I smiled. "Yeah, you revealed all your secrets."

"Is that so."

"Mmm-hmm, so I guess I owe you one."

He raised an eyebrow. "Only one?"

"It's a good one."

"Tell me."

"I love you, too. Always have. Always will."

Grinning, he pulled me down for another fierce kiss…and oh so much more.

Thursday, July 18, 2019

The Lover (Wicked Wednesday #372 & Friday Flash #60)

This week, I've started and stopped a couple different stories. I'm sure I'll finish them, because they both are intriguing ideas. My muse is just being a squirrely wench again.

Thankfully, the Friday Flash prompt inspired another idea and this one stuck. The painting I mention in the story is pretty famous, as is the myth it's based on, and you can view it here.

Please click on the badges below the story to read all the other wonderful posts!

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

The Lover
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

"What do you suppose she's thinking about?"

Not shifting my gaze away from the seductive mural, I smiled. The answer was obvious. "Her lover."

"Man or woman?"


"Why isn't he in the picture?"

"He's just left her." I turned to see the humor gleaming in his blue eyes. "They made wild, passionate love, then he went back to his respectable life."

"She's not respectable?"

"Maybe on the surface. But in her heart, she's a true bohemian. A sensualist who embraces a hedonistic lifestyle. They whisper about her in polite company."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "How did they meet?"

"At an art gallery. While admiring the same painting. Something that shouldn't have been erotic, but she found it so. The Rape of Europa, maybe."

"Did it arouse her?"

"Oh yes. She had this fantasy, you see." I slipped off my shoe and extended my leg beneath the table until I found his leg. The tablecloth concealed my naughtiness as a slid my foot up to his thigh. "About being taken and thoroughly ravished."

Heat flaring in his eyes, he took hold of my foot and placed it on his groin. "I'm sure he eagerly discarded his respectable disguise and satisfied all her desires."

I flexed my foot against his burgeoning erection. "In some secret den of iniquity, he tied her to the bed and had his wicked way with her."

In a raspy voice, he asked, "What did he do?"

As always, his obvious arousal fueled my own. I wanted to press my thighs together to ease the growing ache in my cunt, but that was hard to do as I stroked his cock.

"While she feigned innocence, claiming to be a good girl, he used her like the slut she longed to be. He gripped her hair tightly and made her gag on his cock. He fucked her tits until he shot his thick load all over her chest. Then he ate her cunt and made her beg for mercy."

"From what?"

"From the overwhelming pleasure he inspired. Again and again."

"So, she sits remembering. The cigarette a symbol of their sin."

"Very poetic."

He ground his completely hard cock into my arch. "I'm going to anoint your warm white skin with my forbidden yearning."

My cunt was already slick and needy. "Mmm, yes, please."

Much later, we lay in the afterglow, bodies tangled in passion-soaked sheets. I relished the messy mixture of come lingering between my legs. These stolen moments of intimacy were what got me through the much too frequent separations.

His front pressed to my back, he had one arm wrapped around me, his hand possessively cupping my breast. His other hand traced lazy patterns on the arm I rested my head on while he followed the curve of my neck with his lips.

"If he asked her to run away with him…to someplace they could be wild and free…what would she say?"

Smiling, I snuggled my ass back against his groin. "Yes. Always."

Monday, July 8, 2019

By the River (Masturbation Monday #253)

I usually get my blog post photos from Pixabay. A while back, I found a really beautiful one, but I wasn't sure how I was going to use it. I had to crop the photo to make it safe for social media, but if you'd like to see the unedited version, it's here. Anyway, I finally came up with an idea and thought it went well with the Masturbation Monday prompt—although it doesn't involve seashells or the beach.

This one has a timeless quality similar to The Sign, Sapphire Rose, and The Forbidden Dance.

Please click on the badge below the story to read all the other Masturbation Monday posts!

Hope you enjoy,

Ria ;)
Twitter: @RiaRestrepo

By the River
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.

Standing by the river, she eased a toe into the gently flowing water. It was cooler without the heat from the blazing sun, but she found the temperature soothing. She also preferred the solitude of night.

She didn't like bathing with the other women of her tribe. They stared, and whispered, and tittered about the pale one. With her light skin, eyes the color of the summer grass, and burnt mahogany hair, she looked nothing like them.

Although she held some status as the eldest daughter of the chief, she was an oddity—the product of his union with a white woman abandoned by her people. After her mother died in childbirth, he took another who gave him several strong warrior sons.

Once, she'd thought about leaving and living among the white folk, but her father warned her against it. She might look like them, but she was an outsider. They wouldn't welcome a half-breed. Better to stay with her people. But she didn't belong there either. She didn't belong anywhere.

Shaking off her disquieting thoughts, she removed her coverings until she was only shrouded in silver moonlight. She slowly lowered herself into the river, giving her warm skin time to adjust. It felt glorious, refreshing, and invigorating. She splashed around for a while, scrubbing away any grim from the day.

When she was satisfied that her body was clean, she simply enjoyed the water, allowing herself to drift up to the surface. She floated there, under a sea of stars, the water muting all the night sounds so she only heard her own breathing. Peace and calm enveloped her, washing the unease from her soul. A cool mountain breeze teased her nipples into taut peaks, making her shiver with delight.

The current gradually carried her downstream into unfamiliar territory. Before she got too far away, she pushed herself upright. The river was shallower there. Her feet easily found the smooth stones along the riverbed and the water barely reached her breasts.

Her hearing restored, she became aware of sweet notes ringing through the night that could only come from a man-made source. She knew she should avoid whoever was making the enticing sounds, but her curiosity got the better of her. Ducking down behind some tall grass, she followed the shoreline until she saw a man between the blades.

He must have bathed in the river too, because his hair was wet and his skin was bare. Almost as pale as her, he seemed to glow in the moonlight. He sat on the riverbank, playing some type of stringed instrument, his eyes closed, lost in his own music.

Mesmerized by the breathtaking spectacle, she risked moving closer, barely concealed by the clump of grass. Something slid past her foot—probably a fish—startling her enough that she made a small sound.

His eyes snapped open, immediately finding her.

Panicked, she lunged backwards towards the opposite riverbank.

He said something in a language she didn't know and put down the instrument.

She turned away from him to move more quickly through the water. There was a loud splash behind her, which meant he was coming after her. Her heart hammering in her chest, she increased her efforts, slowly making her way to the other shore.

He called out to her again and she looked back to see how close he was. Standing in the middle of the river, he was still some distance away. He held up his hands and spoke in a low, warm voice—like someone trying to gentle a wild animal.

Even though she knew she should run, some inexplicable force held her there. He kept talking in that pacifying tone and her heart gradually slowed. Some ingrained instinct told her he didn't mean her any harm. Trusting that intuition, she turned to face him more fully.

Smiling, he lowered his arms and carefully approached her.

She held her ground, curious as ever, but ready to bolt if she needed to.

When he reached her, he stood there for a moment, just staring at her. That close, she could see that his eyes were the color of the cornflowers she loved so much.

He said something that sounded like, "Enchantress."

She shook her head, letting him know she didn't understand.

Gracing her with another easy smile, he carefully lifted his hand to her face, moving in small measures, giving her plenty of opportunity to stop him.

Her heart sped up again when his skin made contact with hers—but with excitement, not fear. A tingling sensation sparked from the spot on her cheek and quickly spread throughout her body, bringing every sense to life. She'd never felt anything like it before. It was intoxicating, yet comforting.

He leisurely traced the slope of her cheek, down her neck, along her shoulder, then over her chest to her hard nipple. His touch left a burning awareness in its wake and she craved more. He circled her nipple before taking it between his fingers and squeezing lightly. She gasped as jolts of pleasure ricocheted throughout her body and settled into a needy ache between her legs.

Moving closer to him, she felt his hard length prodding her belly. She wasn't unfamiliar with the male body or how a man changed when he wanted a woman, but she'd never experienced it firsthand. She'd never allowed such intimate contact. It was the first time she'd desired a man's touch, and wanted to touch him in return.

She raised her hand to stroke his face like he had hers. Her fingertips learned the shape of his chiseled cheekbone and his strong jaw. Instead of continuing down, she traced his firm, wide mouth. His lips parted and he gently nipped her finger.

Laughing in surprise, she jerked her hand back.

Grinning down at her, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer. His expression grew more serious, his eyelids lowering a bit as he pressed his hard length into her abdomen.

The persistent ache between her legs made her instinctively rock her hips against him.

Groaning, he learned down and captured her mouth in a soft kiss. She eagerly returned the kiss, crushing her breasts against his hard chest. When his tongue teased the seam of her lips, she opened for him, letting him explore her mouth as thoroughly as she did his.

She'd been so lost in his ardent attention that she didn't realize he'd been ushering her towards the shoreline until she felt the cool grass on her back. He easily lifted her out of the water and moved between her legs. She lay on the riverbank as he kissed his way to her nipple, then took it between his lips and sucked it into his mouth.

Pleasure rippled through her, making her grasp handfuls of grass. He repeated the sweet torture on the other nipple, then moved lower. When he reached the apex of her thighs and kept going, she tried to urge him away, stunned that he'd want to put his mouth there.

Taking hold of her hands and pushing them aside, he made more soothing sounds, reassuring her. He placed a kiss on her belly, her hip, her thigh, then looked up at her.

She understood he was asking permission to proceed.

Uncertain, but always curious, she nodded her head.

The feel of his tongue licking up the length of her slit caused her to fall back against the shore, reveling in the intense sensations he created. He delved between her folds and found the spot she'd discovered long ago gave her the most exquisite pleasure. As he circled, nibbled, and sucked that tender nub, he pushed one finger inside her, and another, filling her for the first time.

Her cries of ecstasy rang through the still night as he rubbed a magical place deep inside her she never knew existed. His clever mouth and fingers drove her higher and higher until something in her broke free, sending her soaring into another plane of existence.

When she came back to earth, he was hovering over her. She gave him a lazy smile and he kissed her. Hungrily, she kissed him back, savoring her own tangy essence. Then he was easing his hardness inside her, filling and stretching her wonderfully. She moaned as he moved within her, leading her in a timeless dance.

They writhed together under the moonlight, her pleasure climbing once again. His arms braced on either side of her head, he held her gaze as he claimed her, branding her soul indelibly. He was right with her the next time she was overcome with heavenly bliss, flooding her sex with his warm seed.

It was there, by the river, that she finally found where she truly belonged. With him. Always.