by Alexa Silver
“Touch me? Why? How would that help?” She looked at his still fully erect cock. “Your cock is big and my insides aren’t.”
“Cock?”
“You said it earlier. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” he groaned. “I’m sorry. It isn’t a word one typically says before one’s wife.”
“But tonight I’m your lover, aren’t I? Isn’t it a word you can say to your lover?”
“Yes, that’s true.” He slowly nodded. “It doesn’t shock you?”
“Of course it does, but that’s half the fun, isn’t it?”
He chuckled, “Perhaps so.”
“So all is well?”
“It is. Climb up beside me.”
She did. He reached for her and drew her into his arms, rolling onto his side. He ran his fingers over her skin, making her shiver and arch into his touch. He leaned down to lick and suck her nipples as his hands drifted downward. Across her belly. Along her hip. Over her thigh. Then he rubbed her moist folds. Stroking until he found that tight bud.
His fingers circled, teasing until she raised her hips and spread her legs to let him in. He took her mouth, capturing her sighs and gasps. She lifted her arms and wrapped them around him. He raised his head. Their lips were close, barely touching. They shared breaths as he played her body. She gasped, rolling her hips. Moving into his touch. Encouraging him to give her more.
“It is like dancing,” she whispered, as she caressed his arm. His face.
“I know.” He kissed her again and she reveled in the way his tongue invaded her mouth. She whimpered when one of his fingers mimicked his tongue, penetrating her sheath. His thumb tantalized her while his fingers slid in and out the way his cock would later. She moaned when he inserted a second finger, then a third.
“You like this?”
“Yes.”
“And you liked it earlier?”
“Very much.”
He stretched his fingers and she whimpered, feeling yet fuller. “Now, look, Lexa.”
She looked between her legs to where his fingers entered her, licking her lips as he continued to fondle her body.
“Now look at my cock.”
She did. His fingers were stretched apart to about the same width as his shaft. He slipped his fingers in and out.
“You feel no pain?”
“No, it feels wonderful.”
“And now, you’re moist with pleasure. That wetness inside you and on me will help me glide, granting us both pleasure, not pain.”
His fingers moved easily, parting her. Making her gasp as his thumb continued the dance on her bud. She jerked her hips, thrusting.
“Are you willing to try, Lexa? If it hurts, tell me immediately and I’ll stop.”
She met his gaze. His dark eyes were full of concern. Love. Desire. She didn’t want to fight anymore. She wanted the joy he could give her and she wanted to share herself with him.
“Yes, Val. Please put your cock in me.”
“In your sweet, wet cunny?”
“Is that what it is?” He nodded and she grinned. “Then, yes, in my sweet, wet cunny.”
He rolled between her legs and she looked up at him, fear trying to work its way into her heart but Val bent and kissed her, driving it away.
“No, worries, my love. If you say stop, I shall. I want to give you delight as much as I want to receive it. Now bend your knees and bring them up on each side of my hips.”
She obeyed, but she tensed when he moved his hips closer to her vulnerable cunny. Instead of piercing her immediately as she expected, he rubbed the head of his cock against her bud. Teasing. Taunting. Until she began to lift her hips in response, countering his moves.
“This is my favorite dance,” he purred. “More intimate than even a waltz.”
He slid his shaft along her folds, still not entering her body. She moved with him, their hips matching one another and giving them both enjoyment.
“This feels good, Val.”
“Yes, it does.”
He thrust faster until she closed her eyes and was gasping with excitement. In that moment, she felt him enter her and she froze. She expected pain, but she didn’t feel any. He moved slowly, but continued the inexorable slide until he was halfway inside her.
“Lexa?”
“Yes?”
“Are you all right?”
He rubbed her bud again and she felt her entire body begin to throb with excitement. Arousal. Her gasps deepened.
“Lexa?”
“Don’t stop, Val. Oh please.”
He slowly resumed his advance until he filled her. She opened her eyes and met his gaze. He caught her legs and lifted them, showing her how to wrap them around his waist.
“What do you feel, my love?”
“I feel full. Warm. Wet. Throbbing with something.”
“It’s desire.”
“Should a lady feel that?”
“Yes, by god, she should.” He growled.
“Are you angry?”
“Not at you but rather at the world we live in that teaches that a lady of quality should feel nothing, or worse, should feel loathing for the act which encourages intimacy between man and woman.”
“You want me to feel desire?”
“I do.”
He slowly withdrew himself from her and again advanced, driving himself into her with iron control. Val closed his eyes as he buried himself deep then halted. So still she could feel his cock pulsing.
“I want to savor this moment.” He dropped his head and kissed her. She ran her fingers through his hair and cupped his strong jaw.
“Why do you want to savor it?”
“Because this is what I’ve always wanted with you.”
“Desire?”
“And intimacy.”
Lexa closed her eyes as he began to move. She lifted her hips, opening to him. Accepting him completely. Welcoming him into her wetness. She’d been such a fool. How could she have ever thought this was wrong?
Their groans and pants sounded in the quiet room. She opened her eyes and watched how his features twisted, but now she knew it was an agony of arousal. Desire spiraled in him as it did in her. He cupped her breasts and bent to kiss them. To suckle. Her nipples tightened as he picked up his pace, thrusting harder and faster. And she moved with him, crying out as the desire coiled tighter. Drawing her higher.
“Ah, Lexa. You’re so beautiful. Sensual. I love you so very much.”
She opened her eyes at his declaration to find him watching her. Wonder filled her even as need flowed through her veins. She clutched him.
“Val, I love you too. I always have. I always will.”
His eyes widened and he groaned, clutching her close. His mouth took hers, leaving her breathless, but she answered him. Kissing him back. Meeting his love and desire as a woman ought. As she’d always wanted to. His hips curved, sending his cock deeper and she rose to meet him. Straining toward that little death he’d showed her tonight. Her muscles tightened and her bud throbbed as he drew her close enough to rub his thrusting hips against her. Teasing that place. She twisted against him, crying out.
“Yes, Val. Please don’t stop.”
“Never. I’ll complete this dance with you now and forever more.”
She screamed, jerking as she reached her peak. Even as she shuddered in his arms, the craving for him rose still higher as he thrust faster. Short, choppy jabs and she took them with a cry of gladness.
“Please Val, give me your seed!”
He groaned as she continued to quake in release and finally, he roared his own climax.
“Yes, Lexa. Yes!”
She clutched him as he buried his cock deep and shot deeply into her. His cock jerked as he pounded a few last times into her body, building a delicious friction that had her whimpering and convulsing one last time as he came to rest against her body. She hid her face in the curve of his neck and shoulder. He pressed loving kisses to her forehead and her cheek before lifting his hea
d.
He rolled onto his back, tugging her with him until she lay on top of him. He brushed her tangled hair out of her eyes and smiled at her, chuckling softly.
“That was well worth waiting for.”
“It was, but I’m sorry I made you wait.”
“The past is gone, Lexa. It must be. We need to let our regrets go and move forward from this moment onward. It’s the only way. Will you go with me and leave the past behind?”
She nodded, “I’m likely to continue to regret it. There is so very much we might have shared if I hadn’t been so blind. But yes, my dear, for you I shall let it go.”
“Thank you my lady, for this most bewitching dance you’ve led me.”
“Tonight or since our courtship began?”
“For all of it. But most of all, for tonight. For following my lead and letting me teach you to dance.”
“Could you perhaps teach me a bit more? I find myself quite liking the idea of you giving me more pleasure while we wait for you to again rise to the occasion.”
“Ah, you would like to continue dancing, wouldn’t you, Lady Alexandra? A lady after my own heart. I enjoy a lady who can dance all night. It’s so refreshing.” She laughed as he quoted himself from earlier in the evening. He waggled his eyebrows as he finished, “Do you know how many women claim a megrim in order to avoid dancing? It’s simply scandalous!”
She dropped her head with a groan. “I only did it once.”
“You did it more than once, but we are letting the past go. I merely tease you, love.”
She kissed him. He ran his fingers along her cheek and her brow. His smile was warm and lazy and she liked it that way. Lazy and contented.
“I know. And I can promise that I shall never use that dreadful excuse to avoid a dance again. I think I shall enjoy becoming quite expert at every form of dance as long as you always partner me, Your Grace.”
“I shall partner you all the days of our lives, my heart. And even unto eternity. This I promise you in return.”
“I accept, Val. And now, shall we experiment with another waltz? I’m quite ready to try again.”
“As am I, Lexa, my love. As am I.”
About the Author
Francesca Hawley
Hi. I’m Francesca Hawley and I’m a fat chick. A woman with dangerous curves just like my heroines.
Many people don’t like the word, “fat” but I do because it’s the truth and I’ve learned to own it. I am a fat chick and I always will be. When I first began to read romance, the heroines were all thin. I kept wondering, where were the fat heroines? I wanted to read about a fat chick who loved herself—or at least learned to love herself—and a hot alpha hero who liked her jiggly bits just the way they were. Since I didn’t find many big girls to read about, I decided to write about them, so Francesca Hawley – author of Romance with Dangerous Curves was born.
In a Francesca Hawley romance, my readers will find authentic, sensual, fat heroines who love and are loved by their intense, passionate, and seductive Alpha heroes. I hope you enjoy their dangerous curves just as much as their hunky heroes do.
Web site: http://www.francescahawley.com
Blog: http://www.francescasmindstream.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/francesca.hawley
Twitter: https://twitter.com/francescahawley
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/francescahawley
Good Reads: https://www.goodreads.com/FrancescaHawley
Phantom Affair
Katherine Kingston
Chapter 1
One of the few drawbacks to having a ghost for a lover was the lack of a martini waiting for her when she got home after a rough trip into the city. Oh, and the backrubs lacked a certain heft. Still, Robert managed to make her feel amazingly wonderful for someone whose spirit was willing but the flesh nonexistent.
Kelly Scranton could fix the martini herself. And unlike most of the men she’d dated, Robert was always willing to listen to her gripes, and he generally commiserated. In fact he seemed to crave her tales of woe from the trenches of the architectural world. Being limited to the house made him hungry for any and all information from outside, which was why she generally left either the television or a radio going even when she wasn’t there.
Her nineteenth-century mansion on the Virginia side of the Chesapeake Bay coast was almost two hours’ drive from D.C., so Kelly generally spent a couple of days in town at a time, meeting with clients and other business contacts before returning home where she could do much of the drawing in peace and conduct the rest of her business via phone.
That particular spring Thursday she’d been gone for three days, working on a large collaborative project. By the time she got back at eight in the evening, she was beat. She’d had dinner before she left the city but she headed for the kitchen right after dumping the briefcase and stepping out of her pumps. That martini was calling her name.
“Kelly?” Robert materialized beside her while she got out the bottles and filled the shaker with ice. It no longer startled her. His form was never fully solid, which made it hard to get a perfect idea what he looked like. She could tell he had a lean, handsome face with strong jaw and cheekbones and sensual lips, but it was especially hard to see his eye and hair color. Both seemed to be light. Otherwise, he’d been a tall man in life, but thin. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, which made sense since he thought he’d been about twenty-five when he died. He didn’t like to talk about it, but he had one time admitted that he’d been hanged in 1706. He wouldn’t discuss the reason. Nothing she’d learned of him in the three years since she’d bought the house—and his company along with it—suggested he was a bad or violent man, so his fate mystified her.
He must have some way to change his clothes—or maybe just his appearance, since his dress didn’t reflect a man who’d lived in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. He usually appeared to be wearing a polo shirt and slacks.
“Rough trip?” he asked, staring at her as she measured out the vermouth. “Took longer than usual and you look beat.”
“Busy. Lots of negotiations, a zillion details to hammer out. And I had to wear heels for three solid days.”
“Poor baby.” An intriguing hint of British accent underlay the slang he’d picked up from the TV. “Go put your feet up and I’ll rub them while you tell me about it.”
That was an offer she never refused.
Kelly finished putting together the double martini and took it to the living room. She settled into the reclining end of the leather sofa with a sigh of relief, letting the quiet, homey atmosphere she’d created sink into her tired bones. A puff of warm air surrounded each of her feet after she raised the footrest. The air began to move around, pressing against her flesh.
She had no idea how he did that. Another of the drawbacks of a ghostly lover was his inability to touch her, but Robert had figured out how to use puffs of compressed air to substitute for it. He admitted it had taken him years of practice to learn and master the technique. Kelly hated knowing that other women had gotten similar attentions from him. He’d admitted there were a couple, though he claimed he first developed the method to use for turning the pages of books.
“Tell me what’s happened the last few days,” Robert said, his half-visible form kneeling beside the chair. It appeared his hands were around her feet, though he couldn’t truly touch her. Still, the air shifted around her toes, stroking them gently but firmly.
“Damn, that feels good.” Kelly settled deeper into the chair. The air pressed and rubbed in a way that air shouldn’t be able to do, but she wasn’t arguing. “This project is turning out to be a bear,” she told him. He kept “rubbing” her feet while she poured out all that had happened in the past couple of days, venting all the aggravations and irritations. Getting it out always made her feel lighter.
Because she had a lot to get off her chest, it took a while to notice something different. “You’re very quiet,” she sa
id to Robert. Normally, he responded enthusiastically to her tales, asking thoughtful questions, demanding details and reassuring her where he felt it was needed. “Is something wrong?”
“No, not wrong. I have something to discuss with you, but not right now. A little later.”
She stared at him for a moment but could read little in the shadowy face. He never had worn his emotions openly. “All right.”
“We have other things to do first.”
The stroking moved up from her feet, along her calves and onto her thighs, pushing below her skirt. It didn’t feel exactly like a human touch, but it was close enough for each brush of air on sensitive skin to send those prickly tingles running along her nerves and rousing desire for more.
“Take off your blouse and the bra for me,” he said. He turned one part of his limitation into a virtue, by ordering her to do the things he couldn’t. She’d read about it, but until now she’d never understood on a personal level how sexy it would be to take off her clothes at the command of a dominant man. Even if said Dominant wasn’t entirely solid.
As soon as she’d shed the shirt and bra and settled back down, another set of air puffs began circling her breasts. Add to the ghost lover’s pro list that he wasn’t apparently limited to two hands’ worth of air. There were still swirly bits running up and down her legs as well.
On the con side, it lacked the rich texture of human touch. But it was firm enough to be convincing and still had the effect of making her jolt and groan when it brushed over her nipples and pressed down on them.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Kelly said though gritted teeth, “But you’re good.”
“Guy’s gotta have a few secrets.” Robert’s tone held an edge of laughter.
“You’ve got plenty already…” The words ended in a groan as he did something that made her nipples ache with delight. The thrill zinged straight to her pussy, which swelled and grew damp.
“Take off the skirt.” That slight British intonation lent a shivery sort of authority to the words. She lowered the zipper and pushed the fabric down her legs until she could kick it aside, while he continued to caress her breasts. Little lightning bolts of pleasure zapped her nipples, drawing moans and groans from her.