Savage Love, page 42
Patrick eliminated the small distance between them and with the tiniest of touches of his fingers at the short sleeves of her dress, caused the garment to disappear. Bare-breasted and wearing plain white cotton panties with a tiny pink ribbon rosebud at the waist she was perfection. “We love you, are in love with you,” he avowed as strong sure fingers played along the elastic waist of her sole covering and it too, soon went the way of the dress.
They each took one of her hands and walked with her, naked and trembling, over to the bed of hay. Patrick kissed her lips all the while items of his black clothing vanished from his form until he was as nude as she. Dylan concentrated on letting her hair loose, while nibbling at her ears, traveling along the sides and back of her neck. His fingers made quick work of the divestment of his denim, leather, silver and cotton, so that he could press his heat up against her back as Patrick pulled her down atop him, her legs instinctively opening across his hips to allow his erect manhood to await entrance into her stately garden. In harmony with the other members of their assemblage, Dylan readied himself to ease into her by way of her back passage, his throbbing tip not making contact, but hovering a filament away. They held fast, awaiting her signal to proceed with her rise to immortality.
Carolina arched her right arm back to stroke her palm across the spun gold of Dylan's hair, to finger the marbled hardness of his jaw. Her body spread across the hot, hypersensitive surface of Patrick's like oil of essence and with conviction, as the matrons had schooled her, she avowed, “We are bound forever as one, of man's law and sanctified far beyond, in the endless and everlasting houses of the universe.” She felt them simultaneously push to conquer her maiden state, claim her as their wife, their synchronized thrusts immediately awarding her an intense, eyes-rolled-back orgasm that escalated with every second, touch and movement. Pressed between pillars of strength and power, light and darkness, she cried out to them, tightening her one-armed embrace on her treacle bear and pressing her palm against the chest of her nighted prince. She felt the quickening in them before they disappeared to flow within her, fusing with her spirit for mere seconds, then reappearing to climax in concert, filling her with the evidence of their savage love.
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Table of Contents
J. Jenkins, Savage Love