by Sara Rustan
She whimpered.
He picked her up and twirled her around so that she was lying flat on her back on the bed. She tried to keep breathing.
He lifted up her hips so that the head of his erection was pressed against her opening. He moved just enough to dip it into her moist opening, the movement tantalizingly shallow and unsatisfying.
She snarled. “In me. Now.”
And he drove his thickness into her, tunneling through her tight, swollen passage, working in every last inch of his massive shaft.
She felt like she had melted into a puddle of cream and hormones and sex. Then he pulled back, leaving her yearning to be stuffed full again. He obliged, of course, slamming into her over and over again. And every instant she was aware that it was Thorgan who was doing this to her, Thorgan, the man she loved, who loved her, and it was almost more than she could bear.
Anticipation grew in shimmering waves, mounting ever higher, ever stronger, threatening to swamp her.
One last stroke pounded into her and he growled, “Come, now.”
Orgasm tore through her in an explosion of heat and her mind spun away, drowning in the spasms of her body.
He collapsed next to her, one arm and a leg holding her tightly cuddled next to him. Gradually, consciousness returned, consciousness and the realization that she was happier than she’d ever been before.
This was where she belonged.
But there was something she had left undone. She licked his salty skin, and shifted to murmur in his ear, “I love you.”
“I know,” he said, that note in his voice that had become so familiar. He was teasing again.
She swatted him.
He rolled her over, resting his weight on his arms and knees, and kissed her, moving his lips gently over hers. “I love you too.”
Sara Rustan
Sara has always read voraciously, vastly preferring the world in books to reality. There have been times she and reality have barely been on speaking terms. After working as a programmer for several large corporations, she decided to follow her dream instead, and started to write. She is particularly interested in speculating about how human nature will be tweaked in the far future, but finds any kind of fantasy absorbing. Clean up after her three sons and husband, or create fascinating worlds of fantasy...? It’s a tough decision, but those dust bunnies deserve a life, too.