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Snow Falling on Lovers

Page 2

by Adrianna Dane


  For her, there was nothing but him, nothing but her need, his taste, his touch, and the sound and smell of sex clinging to the brisk night air.

  She looked up at the sky and her satisfied smile grew larger on her lips as his wet sheathed hand receded from her pussy. She blinked as she felt the first snowflake settle against her skin and disappear. She laughed and turned her head to look at him, her senses highly attuned to him and to the night.

  He always did that to her—brought her to such a heightened state that she could feel everything around her with a magnified edge. He smiled back as he reached up and wiped several flakes from her face.

  "A perfect night,” he said as he leaned forward to lick several more flakes from her skin.

  "Perfect,” she answered.

  Suddenly the sleigh pulled to a halt before a building and she blinked and sat up.

  "Where are we?” she asked as though awaking from a dream.

  He smoothed her dress down over her legs and pulled the sides of her dress together. “Dinner, my dear. Have you built up an appetite yet?"

  She looked at him and couldn't help laughing. The pure joy of being with him overwhelmed her.

  The driver hopped down from the sled and it was only then that she fell the twinge of color begin to climb in her face. Oh, dear, what he must have heard.

  He pulled off his top hat and took off the earphones and shoved them into his pocket.

  He looked up at her without expression. “Those bells can be a darn nuisance,” he said as he prepared to help her down from the sleigh. Her companion waved him way and helped her down himself. She knew that for the remainder of the night he would allow no other male to touch her. His dominant nature was now fully engaged.

  She glanced at the driver as she stepped to the ground. Now that was discreet, she found herself thinking as she smiled and turned away before she said something she shouldn't.

  She turned and looked at the Top ‘O the Mountain Restaurant, another rustic building decked out in twinkling lights. Dinner. She couldn't help wondering what else he had in store for her this evening. And anticipated it with relish.

  Three

  He helped her with her coat and gloves, then shrugged out of his own, handing them to an attendant. He gave his name to the maitre'd who guided them to a special, intimate table before a floor-to-ceiling glassed in alcove. She saw him tip the maitre'd, who smiled and nodded. He held out a chair for her and looked at her expectantly.

  But she knew her man and so she waited patiently for him to assist her. It was his way. When they were out in public, he never liked it for another man to touch her in any fashion, unless he directed it and tonight it would be even more so. His possessive gaze locked with hers and she knew she should wait.

  He stepped forward and nodded to the maitre'd, who seemed to understand and stepped away. “Someone will be with you shortly. I hope you have a pleasant dinner.” Then he turned and walked away.

  He came around to hold out her chair and indicated with a glance that she should sit. She did so and he leaned down, his breath warm and moist against her neck, as he helped her move closer to the table. When the chair was situated just as he wanted, his hands dropped to her upper thighs, skimmed along the length to her knees, gently prodded them open, widening the slit of her skirt. Then his fingers pressed her open and she acceded to his silent demands. His hands skimmed along her inner thighs and only stopped when they reached her engorged labia lips.

  This was a restaurant for lovers, the lighting subdued, the music mellow and sensual, the view from the window spectacular. Their seating faced the expansive window that overlooked the ice-encrusted lake and the scenery encompassed a vista of natural beauty, snow falling in huge white flakes, sparkling in the moonlight.

  To anyone behind them, it simply looked as though he offered her a passionate kiss, but his hands, which they couldn't see, were driving her higher toward another pinnacle of need. But she also knew his intent. He swiped a finger across her slit, testing her wetness and she shivered with sensation. Her head dropped back and he placed a passionate kiss on her partially opened lips before retreating to take his own seat.

  "Just like that,” he said as he sat down next to her. He looked out the window at the illuminated scenery. “It's breathtaking, isn't it?"

  Raspy breaths clutched at her throat as she attempted to concentrate on what he was saying. She tried to focus on the strategically lit scenery beyond the window but her only thought was that she wanted to feel him fucking her, forget about dinner, forget about the scenery. Her body still remembered the heat of his touch on the sleigh ride here. And he had stoked her need again and would keep her at the edge all through dinner. Would he then offer her release as they rode back down the mountain? It was going to be a long, excruciating dinner.

  A waiter pulled her attention from her inner thoughts. He conversed with her companion over the wine list and then made a selection. As the waiter left, her lover turned back to her, clamping a firm hand onto her opened thigh. “You didn't answer me. What do you think of the view?"

  His fingers bit into her flesh. “It's beautiful,” she responded obediently. His grip lessened and he stroked her flesh lightly before removing his hand. When the contact was broken she wanted to protest, but knew better.

  "Have you enjoyed the evening thus far, my dear?"

  She looked at him, knowing her heart was in her eyes. “Very much."

  "You enjoy my surprises,” he remarked as he picked up the menu lying before him and surveyed the selections.

  "Always.” Her pussy throbbed with need, her breasts ached to be touched. Again, he looked at her and she saw his gaze drop and he smiled. Then he turned back to the menu.

  He nodded to her. “The choices look good. Make a selection.” Hesitantly, she broke the gaze and turned her attention to the menu. She tried to concentrate, but suddenly his hand was on her arm, stroking the soft material of the dress and it took all her self-control not to utter a moan of pleasure. She set the menu down and pressed her hands to the table top as he continued to pet her.

  "I liked the material,” he commented. “It's soft and warm like a kitten's fur, and I imagined it sliding against your body. Touching your skin, stroking and reminding you of me every time you move. Yet you would be accessible to me when I want to touch you. And it would be easy to remove when I want to see you. Tell me how it feels? I knew it would be perfect for this weekend."

  She shuddered at his words. How could she possibly be expected to choose from the menu when he kept doing things like this to her? “It does all that,” she responded in a husky voice. “It's warm like your touch, smooth, yet tingly, pleasuring me like you do with your hands. When I walk, it's like a constant stroking against my skin making me wild to feel you, making me ready for you to take me and do with me what you please.” She shivered at the images her own words created in her mind.

  Her focus was again diverted as the waiter came back with a bottle of wine. He poured a sample for her lover to try. She watched him swirl the liquid, then lingeringly test its suitability. Her eyes were riveted to his mouth, to his throat watching his Adam's apple as he swallowed. She began to salivate with the need to taste the wine, not in a glass, but on his lips, to consume any drop that might remain, threaded with the taste of the man.

  As she watched, he nodded to the waiter, who filled both glasses, then set the bottle on the table.

  "A waiter will be with you shortly to take your order,” he said before he turned and left.

  Her companion turned to look at her as he lifted his glass to his lips and sipped at the glittering liquid. “It's very good,” he said as he set the glass on the table. “Would you like to sample it?"

  She was unable to utter a sound and simply nodded her head, reaching for her own glass. His hand dropped over hers and she looked up at him.

  "No,” he said as he leaned toward her. “Not like that.” He had known her mind, had known exactly what she had been thinking
as she watched him consume the wine.

  Her eyes focused on his lips. On the sheen of residue left from the sampling. As she watched, he picked up his glass and drank some of the heady liquid holding it in his mouth. He turned back to her.

  Licking her own lips first, she then leaned forward and skimmed her tongue across the surface of his, licking clean every drop of wine that shimmered on their surface, tasting him and the wine, a heady bouquet that made her dizzy with pleasure.

  She ran her tongue along the seam of his lips, seeking to delve inside. She felt his hand thread into her hair, pulling her close. Pressing his lips to hers he tilted her head back and opened his lips. Oh, God, the taste melded in her mouth, swirling over her senses, so erotic and intense, swishing along her nerves. He held the kiss for long moments, his tongue delving inside her mouth, tasting the combination of him, her, and the wine.

  Finally, he pulled away, the wine having been transferred to her mouth where she held it captive, wanting to hold the moment stationary. Slowly she swallowed it as he watched, his hand rising to stroke at her flesh as the liquid trickled down her throat.

  She was certain she would never make it through dinner if she didn't get herself under control. She closed her eyes, attuning herself to the aromas and his touch, to the solitude of the alcove and more of his touch.

  "Are you ready to order?” a young voice inquired from behind them. Lazily she opened her eyes to focus on the young waiter, as her lover drew back from her.

  "Yes, I believe we are,” she heard him answer in a mild voice. Yet, she had no idea what she was going to order. She didn't really care. What she really wanted was to sup on him.

  She leaned back in her chair and again turned to the menu, but her mind simply would not translate the words. Her thoughts were focused on the feel of his lips, the taste of the wine, and the pulsing need ever present inside her throbbing pussy.

  She felt his hand on her thigh and she looked up at him through hazy vision. “Do you know what you would like?"

  She simply could not focus. “I—I'm not sure. Of course, everything looks wonderful.” She smiled at him.

  His eyes bore into her. “Would you like me to order something that might please you?"

  She hesitated but a moment, then nodded and let out a sigh of relief. “Yes, please. You know my tastes very well."

  He ordered for them both and then the waiter left them.

  His arm circled around her waist and drew her closer as they both looked out at the lake. “I love you, my dear,” he whispered in her ear.

  She trembled as his words. They were words she never grew tired of hearing. “I know,” she answered and laid her head against his shoulder. One thing he never liked was what he termed the echo. The “I love you—I love you” response. Often he would say things to her at the most unexpected times. Words she expected to hear in the heat of passion were voiced at moments like this, or in the middle of a crowded room, or as part of a conversation that had nothing to do with desire. And it would send tingles through her body, eliciting a response at the most unexpected moments and she would see it in his eyes. He always knew exactly what he was doing to her.

  And then there would be moments like this, again just as unexpected because he did it so rarely. She rested against him and sipped at her wine as they waited for their dinner to arrive. Was there ever a moment more blissful than this? How could any woman not love a man such as him? He wooed her romantic heart, fulfilled her every dark fantasy, and so much more.

  Four

  The dinner was superb and now he helped her to don her coat and gloves and led her outside. The snow falling was much heavier now, but the temperature seemed to have warmed. She did not see the sleigh waiting for them and she wondered where it was.

  His grip on her hand tightened and she followed him as he walked to the right and followed a path. With his other hand he reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a flashlight and switched it on.

  "Where are we going?” she asked as she peered into the darkness.

  "A short walk around the lake. The sleigh won't be back to pick us up for another hour."

  "We won't be able to see very much."

  She saw a mysterious expression cross his face. “We'll be able to see enough. Don't you like walking in the snow?"

  "I love it,” she quickly responded, feeling the crunch of packed snow beneath her booted feet. Something told her it was going to be more than a walk on a snowy night.

  They turned a corner and the restaurant disappeared from view. The night was silent and the icy lake appeared vast and brittle. She looked up at the sky and blinked as the snow feathered wetly onto her face. Still, it was beautiful.

  Suddenly, he pulled her off the shoveled path they were following and pushed her against a tall tree. His mouth swooped down over hers, thrusting his tongue deep inside her mouth. Reaching up, he anchored the flashlight in a low-hanging limb, its narrow yellow glow pointed directly at her face.

  "I want to see you,” he growled as his hands demandingly unbuttoned her coat and yanked it open. The new fallen snow settled silently all around them, but she didn't feel the cold, didn't feel the clean dampness of the environment. All she felt was the searing wet heat oozing from between her pussy lips.

  His hands rose to her breasts, cupping and kneading, pulling at her nipples, drawing the pleasure pain from deep inside her. She knew her expression would register the rising desire pulsating inside her. And he wanted to see her, which is why he angled the flashlight on her face—a spotlight focused on her display just for him.

  His lips came back to her as his hands roved across her body, slow, demanding swipes, swirling, pressing, spreading. “I'm going to fuck you right here, darling. With the cold, frigid mountain surrounding us. I'm going to bury my cock deep inside your snug, tight cunt and you're going to come for me. And scream for me."

  Her juices dripped from her pussy in response to his words. “Yes,” she gasped. The thought of fucking him right here, out in the middle of nowhere, in the darkness of the night, fresh large flakes of snow, each one different and unique coming to rest on their passion, sizzling to drip over their heat, drove her desire higher and higher. Like the snowflakes, no experience, no two moments were exactly alike when she was with him. He made every interlude unique and extraordinary, made her feel as though she was melded into the very breath of the action that he orchestrated, making her just as special and rare—to him.

  His hands pushed back the opening of her dress, exposing her wet pussy. He cupped her with his cool, gloved hand, a finger pressing deep inside her. “You're hot, darling, and very wet. You practically steam the air around us with your passion. Do you want it? Do you want me inside you now?"

  "Yes,” she responded immediately, pressing her pelvis against his warmed hand.

  "Make me believe it,” he demanded, a second finger added to the first as he stroked inside her.

  "Fuck me,” she yelled, her voice echoing back to her from the darkness. “Please."

  "Spread your legs."

  She did as he asked. He anchored the dress up and behind her hips. Then knelt before her.

  "Display yourself for me."

  Lowering her hands she touched her engorged pussy lips and spread them as he asked. As she watched, he lifted a finger and traced the pink folds along her slit. With his finger he circle her hard, sensitive clit and she sucked in air as the cold night wind sliced across her skin magnified by the demand of his hand. Damp, warm heat exuded from her skin, for her hot center to mingle with the cold chill of night and it exhilarated her, excited her, to be so exposed out in the open like this, in the dead of winter.

  Snowflakes continued to fall and drift around them, landing on her skin, on his hair and eyelashes. She was mesmerized by the sight of the veil of virgin moisture. He leaned forward and his tongue delved deeply into her pussy, circled her clit, along the crease of her thigh, over the damp flesh of her legs.

  Her cream flowed from h
er in anticipation of feeling him inside her, hot and readying her. “You sparkle out here, do you know that? So pretty,” he said as he stroked the flesh of her inner thighs, driving her wild with his touch. “I would take your picture like this if I had thought to bring the camera. So ready, so wild, just like the mountain—an erotic goddess in her element."

  "Please, darling,” she begged. “I need you. I need to feel you inside me."

  He lapped at her pussy again, one swipe along her pink, lush length. “God, I can't tell you how beautiful you look right now. If only you could see yourself through my eyes. Such pink succulent flesh, growing brighter by the moment, your creamy pale skin illuminated by the light.” He feathered his fingers across the smooth, shaven mound, suddenly thrusting three fingers inside her and she gasped at the quick invasion that seared her to her core, need driving fast as quicksilver through her body.

  She heard the sound she'd been waiting for as he unzipped his fly and as she watched, his thick, hard cock sprang free. She salivated at the though of his huge, rigid shaft filling her, driving deep inside her, making her come and come and come.

  The cold of night might swirl around her, but all she felt was the heat of his presence, his demands. He rose and pulled her hands above her head, anchoring them to the rough, damp bark of the tree.

  "We're a part of the night tonight, nothing separates us from the elements."

  She felt the broad tip of his cock at her entrance and then swiftly he was anchored deep inside her. He pressed her hands to the tree and she felt the sharp bite of the old bark as he thrust inside her, expanding her, pulling her passion. Time and time again he drove inside her, swirling, demanding, taking and giving.

  Pressing against her clit, the friction pushed her off the edge and she came fast and hard, pulsing all around him. He did not stop, pulling her desire, her dark lust from deep inside her. Hot and hard he demanded from her. She felt the bark of the tree scratch across her skin, sending more sensations arrowing through her. Cool snow on her skin, large flakes that disappeared as they came in contact with the heat of their passion drenched flesh.

 

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