Charades by Ann Logan Page A

Thrust and swirl, then thrust and swirl again, delving deeper and harder until he could feel not just her moans but her whole body swimming in unison with his. Her mind and thoughts became his, as though he were a pied piper of mysterious magic. Only he would wring from her body such notes of exquisite sweetness and ecstasy. Her body was an instrument of rapture and joy.
         Gauging the state of her arousal from the slickness of her passage, he swiftly pulled her panties down and off her legs, kissing her at the base of her femininity. She gasped and tried to close her legs, but he held her fast as he tasted her, delving his tongue into her wet cleft. Oh, dear God! She is so incredibly sweet!
         Mercy opened her legs with a soft sigh of surrender. Wulf settled his body between them, taking his weight on his elbows. Rubbing his throbbing, hardened shaft against her swollen, wet portal, he heard her unspoken invitation as with a small cry her legs opened wider. When she lifted and rubbed herself against his manhood, he needed no further persuasion. Never had he donned a condom so fast!
         Mercy gasped when she felt herself open to him just there , the spot where all her awareness centered, where the need to have, to take, to give replaced the need to be. She didn’t fear him now. Like a sorcerer, he held her spellbound and mesmerized, totally in his thrall, willing to do anything to lessen the ache for him in her body and soul.
         “Please,” she implored, wanting him, yearning for him. “Please.”
         “Say you want me inside you.”
         “I–I want you inside me,” she gasped, panting.
         Slowly, Wulf slid his hardened length inside her wet, slick channel. He tried to contain the raw emotions as they sprang forth full-blown in his heart, glorying in the soaring sensations shooting to his brain and his rock-hard staff. My God, I’ve died and gone to heaven. She felt so hot, so tight, and so wet, he feared he’d burst.
         Her anguished cry when he seated himself to the hilt nearly froze him for a moment until he realized it was one of triumph, not pain. Slowly pulling himself almost all the way out, he deliberately teased the heightened awareness of her femininity. Only he could make her feel like this, only he could give her this kind of worshipful loving.
         When Mercy grasped his buttocks and pulled him back into her, Wulf smiled, feeling her walls spasm and adjust to him before closing tight and taut around his staff. It was such a snug, hot, wet fit he let out a shaky breath, struggling to conquer his hammering need. Just as he congratulated himself on his firmly held control, she lifted her body, impaling herself deeper on him, squirming against him with wanton need. He sucked in a shaky breath and swallowed, teetering on the edge of a deep precipice. Suddenly he was free-falling, thrusting mindlessly, grinding fiercely into her wet, hot cavern, unable to stem the headlong dash to fulfillment.
         She bucked and thrashed under him, calling out his name, screaming for him. He couldn’t stop now. His body shook from the force of energy contained within him, from the undeniable drive to fill her with everything he had.
         He needed to be there , at the center of her core. He felt her climbing with him and the walls of her muscles contracted, gripping him even tighter.
         Mercy’s head thrust back as her wildly thrashing body rode the shock waves of their joining. “Oh, God! Wulf, I’m… It’s… Oh God!”
         Wulf barely heard her surprised, disjointed cries as he wondered for a wild, crazy moment if he had spilled his brains as well as his seed. Never before had he felt such a shock and surprise. It only increased in power and scope the longer it lasted. Yes, yes, Oh, God, yes!
         For long moments he could only lie there unable to move, trying to regain his breath, his power of speech, his reason. When he finally did move, it was