Dedication
Aisling Weaver
Dedication
Aisling Weaver
Published by Republica Press at Smashwords
www.republicapress.com
All rights reserved.
Copyright 2010 by Aisling Weaver
No part of this e-book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including emailing, printing, photocopying, or faxing without prior written permission from Republica Press
Cover Art: Aisling Weaver
To B & N. You know why.
To M…because you never will, and that’s okay.
To Ruby Kiddell for reasons enough to fill a book.
And last, but never least, to my readers. You’re the reason I write.
Chapter 1
Palimpsest
I had looked forward to this weekend for weeks, not my first with Elizabeth, merely the next in the succession of our passion, but time with her was cherished; relished. The emptiness of the house surprised me, though the note on the door asked for patience and promised reward for it. My evening passed with a growing sense of anticipation. The longer it went the more certain I grew of what state Elizabeth would be in when she arrived. She had known I would be coming, had known I would be spending the night. And still she tarried, still I waited, alone. The hours passed, I made a light dinner, sipped at some wine and finally retreated to her bedroom. I dozed, waiting in her bed, waiting to warm her, curl with her to sleep, at least. My eyes opened in the dark as I heard the soft whisper of clothes sliding to the floor, the pad of bare feet. I could smell her before she pulled the covers back; sweet sweat and sex. Arousal chased my spine like a caressing finger and I took a deeper breath.
She’d been with him.
Elizabeth moved with care, sliding under the sheet, her flesh, warm but still cooler than mine, touching me at arm, hip, thigh. I watched as she lay back, hands on her soft stomach and smiled, sated, at the ceiling. My clit pulsed. I knew, since I had imagined it often enough, voyeur that I am, how he fucked her. Hard and rough and deep, owning from the inside out, leaving marks on her, in her. Every nerve on my body shivered awake and I rolled into her, wanting to absorb that sated, pleased contentment.
Her arm lifted and I slid into place, thigh skating over hers, belly to her hip, breast to her ribs. I inhaled again, tasting her on the back of my tongue, her and him. My fingers, drawn, metal shavings to her magnetic being, danced over her skin in the softest of touches. Wind whistled in the eaves and abruptly we were cast in the silver of moonlight. My breath caught and I acted without thinking. My lips touched, a flutter of butterfly wings, each small bruise, his fingerprints, on her breasts. She gasped and shifted. In the moonlight, the dark splotched scattered like mottled shadows over her skin and I rose to my knees, lost in the pursuit of each one, chasing their outlines with my soft tongue.
My fingers fluttered up and down her curves; sensitive fingertips reading her skin, deciphering the Braille of his claim left there. My tongue found and counted the indents of his teeth left on her shoulder then the matching ring left on Elizabeth’s hip. Her fingers, threaded in my hair, twitched and flexed against my scalp, the bare whispers of caresses drawing soft sounds from her throat.
So close to her center, to his final claim, I could smell them both and my mouth watered. Not a word spoken yet and the near silence continued, broken only by gasps and sighs that betrayed mutual arousal. My lips danced down the crease of her hip and she opened with the barest of urging from my fingertips. There, too, on her thighs, her hips, were the darkening marks of his passion, imprints of his tight grip remaining, dark shadows of his hard fucking left on her inner thighs.
I kissed, touched, outlined every one. Her hips jerked, a touch, when I brought my lips close and inhaled her scent. That delicious, exquisite aroma that intoxicated me now underscored, threaded through with something saltier, muskier. My tongue brushed against her, soft as a feather, and her thighs parted, lips opening to deliver the first word, a hissed ‘yessss.’
The tip of my tongue drew through Elizabeth’s slick juices and I groaned. I traced the contours of her swollen labia, sucked softly at her tender outer lips, drawing shuddering gasps. Each stroke, lap, caress delivered with the softest of intent still drew sharp gasps from her mouth, her nerve endings raw and sensitive. Over and over I drew my tongue through her, pulling her flavor into my mouth to savor in complete sensual and voyeuristic bliss. When I finally sought her tender clit, her fingers tightened in silent command, her breathing ragged. I swirled my tongue round and round, tasting, curling it to her, following the Morse code of her fingers on my scalp and the language of her hips, eager to draw out one last orgasm.
My own clit pulsed and twitched in time with her hips and I slid a free hand beneath me, sliding my fingers against it, bracing so I could rock my hips onto my own touch in time with hers. I was so beyond aroused I groaned hard around her clit and she surged up into my mouth, bucking onto my tongue. My free hand followed her thigh up, fingers slicking and sliding into her, earning another hiss of encouragement and a tightening of her grip. My world contracted; senses narrowed to the contact of fingers and tongue and clit. We climbed orgasm’s ladder together, her pleasure pulling mine until I paced her, hips rocking, frantic, urgent, needy.
I came, moaning against her, into her, fingers thrusting hard against my clit and into her cunt, driving Elizabeth the last distance, shattering both of us into exquisite shared bliss. She marked me, cum slicking down my chin, flooding me, nails raking my scalp, our bodies exchanging pleasure. My mouth softened, stroked the last shudders from her body. Her hands urged me up, pulling my mouth to hers, and I moaned as she cleaned her own cum from my lips and chin. Aftershocks traced my spine, cunt still quaking at the intensity, when she tugged my cum-slicked hand from herself with a groan and turned the same attention on it. Another shared kiss and I tasted the difference, tasted him in her mouth, knew my fingers had found the depths where he’d spent himself.
We curled together like sated kittens, sharing soft, languid kisses, before drifting, finally, to sleep.
Chapter 2
Anointing
It was an accidental confluence, an unintentional meeting that set it all in motion. The day dawned bright and sunny but storm clouds sat on the horizon, pregnant with the promise of a wicked storm. I didn’t want to go to work, didn’t feel like dealing with the drama rampant in the place.
So I called off.
I sat for a long time gazing out the window, watching those marching, billowing thunderheads. I finished my coffee, pondering what to do with my unexpected day of freedom. My email chimed and I glanced at the coffee table. “Naughty girl,” said the email’s subject line and my cunt pulsed in reaction. That was where I wanted to be. The blank body of the message told me Elizabeth was merely tweaking me, but I sat, nibbling on my lip for a moment.
I wanted to see her.
My body still wore shadows of her passion, seven red streaks down my back just now fading, a bitemark on my nape slowly losing its distinct shape.
It didn’t take long before my thoughts had me following the roads that would lead me to her, watching the clock on the dash, plotting my route and a lunch time surprise.
The four-hour drive passed in alternating waves of arousal and anticipation. I drove in a state of liquid want, my thighs slick with desire, clit pulsing, craving nothing more than her taste on my lips, my tongue. My craving coiled and slithered inside me; a hot, wanton snake.
Another car crouched in her drive. I parked alongside, met my own dilated, hungry gaze in the rear view mirror and took in my high color, my tousled hair. I looked like I had already been fucked.
I didn’t know what to make of the other vehicle. It wasn’t her
s, but then perhaps she had one on loan, her car in the shop? My brain fumbled through our conversations over the last week and drew a blank. My senses hummed; a live wire; shimmering and latent with energy. The stone path crunched under foot, the ocean breeze licked at my flushed skin, my skirt flowed and danced against my thighs, my nipples pointed, taut and ready. The stormclouds hung low overhead, a tempest near to breaking.
The door swung open before I could reach for the hidden key. “You must be Gwen.”
* * * *
They say great minds think alike; in this instance I thought perhaps it should be “lustful minds.” Connor leaned, hipshod, against the back of the couch, taking my measure. I would have thought finding him there would have doused my mood, my desire. But, somehow, knowing we both had bent our minds to having Elizabeth for lunch merely ratcheted my hunger still higher. I didn’t know what would happen when she arrived. He wasn’t quite what I expected.
He intoxicated her, I knew, with his dark, feral desires. She loved the way he fucked her, took her, owned her; just as I loved the way she did the same to me. But I wasn’t expecting his clear, intense gaze nor his powerful, lean presence. I pointedly mimicked him, letting my eyes roam, ignoring the warm shiver that traced my spine when his gaze lingered on my nipples, clearly outlined through the thin cotton of my shirt.
His voice interrupted my perusal. “It seems we are of the same mind today.” I licked my lips and met his disconcertingly direct gaze with a nod.
“I do believe so.” My voice had a breathy quality to it that made me blush. My mind couldn’t help wandering, thinking, remembering; I know what he tastes like. Can imagine how he likes to take, plunge, fuck, his desire left for any to read on Elizabeth’s skin…his claim inside and out…
His lips curved into a knowing smile. I realized, abruptly, that he knew. Knew what I did, what I loved, what I couldn’t get enough of. Knew I craved to write my own desire on her skin over his, turn her flesh into a testament of passion. I swallowed hard around the knot of awareness, jumping when I heard the low thud of a car door. Connor moved into my body space, close enough I could smell him, and captured my attention with one gentle finger under my chin.
“Follow my lead,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. I nodded and he pointed to a spot just inside the door, crossing to wait for her entry.
The door swung open. “Connor? Gwen?” I could hear the twist of curiosity and uncertainty in her voice. He reached for her, pulled her in, pushed her back with his body, using her to close the door. Her breath caught in the instance before his mouth captured hers and they kissed. It was one of those kisses that crawls up your spine when you see it; one that shared the intensity of passion, the familiarity of lovers, the hunger and promise of desire. If I had been hot before, I was molten now. Her eyes blinked open, dazed, when he lifted his head and looked at me, twitching it towards her.
I shivered and stepped into his place, pressing into her and kissing her with all my pent up hunger. Elizabeth gasped into my mouth, her fingers sank into my hair. I felt him close again, a large warm hand pressing to my back, holding me in place, his breath teasing against my cheek as he ducked to her ear.
“How does it feel, Liz, knowing we both set our minds to having you for lunch?” She groaned into my mouth, her fingers tightening. “Do you like that? Knowing I showed up here hard for you, needing to fuck you, that she arrived flushed, wet and wanting? Oh yes, you should have seen your Gwen with her parted lips and widened eyes when I opened the door.”
It was my turn to groan and he pushed me harder into her as Elizabeth’s thigh rode up between mine. He growled, a low, hungry noise that vibrated through me and she echoed it, a lighter note that lit my hunger on fire. My fingers tugged at her clothes, pushing past blouse and bra, slacks and panties to find her smooth silken skin. I sank, in increments, down her body, mouth and hands hungry and urgent, peripherally aware of the sounds of their passion as they kissed. Elizabeth leaned against his chest, thighs spreading in absolute willingness, his palms overflowing with her gorgeous breasts, her head tilted back against his shoulder, baring her neck for his teeth. He wrapped around her from behind and I shivered when our eyes met, my mouth hovering a breath away from her cunt, waiting to devour her.
“Do you want her tongue, or my cock?” he rasped, fingertips digging into her flesh, his hips rocking into her from behind. Connor didn’t wait for an answer. Somehow we flowed down and back, ending with her pinning me to the floor, straddling one thigh, her knee parting mine. He knelt behind her, our hands flowing together over Elizabeth’s body. I wished, briefly, that I could be watching this, watching her pinned between us, on the floor, just inside the door; her naked and writhing, he and I with garments shoved out of immediate interference.
But then I couldn’t feel it.
I captured her eyes, holding her face in my hands, devoured her expression as Connor filled her with his thick cock. Her lips parted in a throaty moan and I felt, down the length of my body, her reaction to it; a sinuous, rippling shiver. My hand traveled down her stomach, seeking her slick heat, and I captured her needy groan when I found her clit and my fingers began a practiced dance of pleasure. She arched over me, losing herself to pleasure, backing into Connor, onto him, meeting his thrusts, taking him deeper. I followed her body, mouth seeking her neck, her nipples, anything to add to her pleasure, to push her further and farther.
It was as if this was not our first time together, as if we were practiced at this, at pleasing her. Connor’s eyes slid from Elizabeth’s profile to my face and back, expression taking on that tight expectation of release, watching us, trying to drive us all together. I could feel the tremors building in her and slid my free hand down my body to my own cunt, wanting to come with her, with them.
She felt me, felt the back of my hand on her soft stomach, met my eyes and shifted, sliding her hand between us, snaking it over the back of my hand and into my slick heat. I cried out, arching up and heard a feral growl rip from Connor’s throat. I couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything beyond the perfect meshing of our bodies and pleasures.
Elizabeth pulled us over the edge, her orgasm rumbling up like a great geyser, vibrating through all of us. Her hips thrust back onto him, demanding, her voice lifting, taking us with her. She fucked into me as rough as she took him into her and I exploded, pressing fingers to both of our clits in synchronous need, screaming into skin, quaking. His bass roar and deep thrust reached through her into me, his final thrust sinking so deep into her he pinned my fingers in place against her cunt, tipping her finally over the edge.
We all shook, taken by each other to some new level of pleasure, shared, fucked, fucking, filling and filled. Elizabeth’s skin slid against mine, slick with our sweat, my cunt soaked with my juices and hers. She kissed me, once, soft, feeling the trembling of my lips; twisted, still sandwiched between our panting bodies and kissed Connor, murmuring into his mouth. He rocked against her, into her, setting off a rippling domino effect that ended inside me and I whimpered.
As heartbeats and breathing slowed, we untangled; Connor puling back to sit on his heels, Elizabeth doing the same, leaving me spread, skin cooling rapidly at the loss of her skin. She pulled her fingers from me, smiling knowingly at my whimper, swiped them through the puddle she’d left on me, mixing us, the three of us, together. With a smoldering look she reached, touched two slick, sex coated fingers to my lips and drew a line down my body to my cunt, bisecting me. “Mine,” she whispered. I nodded, lips parted, breathless. Connor smiled darkly when she turned to him and repeated the motion, drawing a line of cum, our cum, blended, down his body, ending with a grip on his cock. “Mine,” he growled, thrusting into her hand, leaning in to kiss her with his annointed lips. She purred into his mouth, murmuring an assent.
He pulled back, hips still rocking into her fist, expression dark and passion fierce. “Do you have to go back to work?”
Elizabeth met his gaze for a moment and I sat up, slidin
g my hands up her back, over her hips. She turned her smoldering gaze on me and my gut coiled with hunger. “They’ll make due without me,” she said, voice rich with desire. “I’m needed elsewhere, today.”
Chapter 3
Consecrate
Tangled. We were naught but a tangle of limbs, sated, humming with the aftershocks of our last shared orgasms. Elizabeth wrapped around me, an arm under my neck, leg tossed over mine, knee pressed to my mound. Connor twined around her, a thigh between hers, shin pressed along the length of mine, arm draped over her hip and my belly.
It was dark; the storm that had raged robbing us of electricity, the candles we lit long extinguished. I had no concept of what time it was; nor did I care. Rain still pattered against the window panes; calmer, a soothing sound that matched the quiet synchronicity of our breathing. I felt a small chuckle ripple through her body and turned my head, pressing lips to her temple. Her cheek flexed against me in a smile.
“What are you laughing at?” Connor’s voice, sleepy, was low and close, tucked into her shoulder.
“What an unexpected turn of events,” she responded and her hands tugged at me, pulling me onto my side. My skin sang to life again, my thigh riding up over hers, and I ground slickly onto her smooth skin.
“I can hear how wet she is, you know,” he whispered and she chuckled again, this time low and sexy. I shivered.
“What do you think we should do about it?” A thrill shot through me at the tone of her voice, the low, burring hunger that matched the hands pulling me closer.
Dedication Page 1