paint his long, muscular body with silver as he swiftly shed his robe.
If only I could see your eyes.
The plea remained silent though as he lifted the bedcover and took his place beside her.
If only I could see what’s in your heart.
But the moonbeams weren’t sufficient to reveal him and his face and his amazing blue eyes remained frustratingly shadowed.
I must ask him! I must know how he feels!
The questions tormented her as he efficiently stripped away her nightgown, then ran a long hand down the full length of her torso, lingering at breast and hip. She opened her mouth, not knowing what she was going to say, but before she could utter a word, he covered it with his hand. The same hand that had shaped her curves settled gently but firmly over her lips, sealing her to silence.
In the darkness, he seemed fierce, almost like angry primal man forbidding his woman to speak. And then a second later the hand was gone. Only to be replaced by Starr’s mouth, kissing her with a new and unprecedented savagery as if he wanted to expunge any words that might come between them.
Starr, what is it? Do you love me…or hate me?
Her cries remained unuttered as she thrilled to the animal intensity of the kiss. Her jaw ached. She felt as if he were devouring her as his tongue explored and possessed the delicate interior of her mouth. And as he kissed ferociously, his hand slid between her legs, taking possession there too. He caressed her thrillingly, rubbing quite hard and occasionally edging back and forcing her legs wider so he could gain better access.
As she groaned around his tongue, he pushed first one, then two, then three fingers inside her, thrusting and rocking them until her besieged flesh yielded its pleasure to him and she climaxed so intensely it was almost painful.
A second later, he was inside her, his cock as insistent and dominating as his fingers had been. He powered into her, the strokes deep and angry. Instinctively, she rose to him, glorying in his loving ruthlessness and orgasming again quickly and violently.
Her mind was a maelstrom of pure feeling, but at the edge of consciousness, she still heard the desperation in Starr’s hoarse cry of release.
Was that true emotion he was expressing? Or simply the physical, as ever, overwhelming him? Exhaustion overcame her before she was able to determine…
When Hettie woke up, she still felt troubled and frustrated despite the fact that Starr had made love to her so beautifully in the night.
After his first onslaught, she’d slept. But on waking several times, she’d discovered him still with her and he’d taken her again, each time quashing her attempts at communication with his lips or the power of his body.
And yet still she felt horny. She considered masturbating, but the height of the sun in the sky said she’d slept quite late and the sooner she got up, the sooner they could set off for Dragonwood.
A soft knock at the door heralded Starr with her morning tea.
It always amazed her how he could behave with such detached politeness in the morning, when the night before he’d fucked her into mindlessness.
“I trust you slept well, Ma’am,” he said quietly, lightening her strong morning brew with just the right amount of milk.
“Yes, thank you, Starr. Is everything ready for the trip?” she answered briskly. In the harsh light of day it seemed impossible to ask him anything at all. Impossible to attempt anything other than the normal, mannered relationship they maintained during daylight hours.
But in her heart, she cried out passionately.
How do you feel, Starr? How do you really feel? What do I mean to you?
But for the moment she felt shackled by their unspoken rule, in which neither of them ever admitted that their relationship was other than mistress and servant. It was impossible to force the words from her lips.
“Yes, Ma’am. The cases are loaded and Darryl is having his breakfast now. He seems to be looking forward to the
If only I could see your eyes.
The plea remained silent though as he lifted the bedcover and took his place beside her.
If only I could see what’s in your heart.
But the moonbeams weren’t sufficient to reveal him and his face and his amazing blue eyes remained frustratingly shadowed.
I must ask him! I must know how he feels!
The questions tormented her as he efficiently stripped away her nightgown, then ran a long hand down the full length of her torso, lingering at breast and hip. She opened her mouth, not knowing what she was going to say, but before she could utter a word, he covered it with his hand. The same hand that had shaped her curves settled gently but firmly over her lips, sealing her to silence.
In the darkness, he seemed fierce, almost like angry primal man forbidding his woman to speak. And then a second later the hand was gone. Only to be replaced by Starr’s mouth, kissing her with a new and unprecedented savagery as if he wanted to expunge any words that might come between them.
Starr, what is it? Do you love me…or hate me?
Her cries remained unuttered as she thrilled to the animal intensity of the kiss. Her jaw ached. She felt as if he were devouring her as his tongue explored and possessed the delicate interior of her mouth. And as he kissed ferociously, his hand slid between her legs, taking possession there too. He caressed her thrillingly, rubbing quite hard and occasionally edging back and forcing her legs wider so he could gain better access.
As she groaned around his tongue, he pushed first one, then two, then three fingers inside her, thrusting and rocking them until her besieged flesh yielded its pleasure to him and she climaxed so intensely it was almost painful.
A second later, he was inside her, his cock as insistent and dominating as his fingers had been. He powered into her, the strokes deep and angry. Instinctively, she rose to him, glorying in his loving ruthlessness and orgasming again quickly and violently.
Her mind was a maelstrom of pure feeling, but at the edge of consciousness, she still heard the desperation in Starr’s hoarse cry of release.
Was that true emotion he was expressing? Or simply the physical, as ever, overwhelming him? Exhaustion overcame her before she was able to determine…
When Hettie woke up, she still felt troubled and frustrated despite the fact that Starr had made love to her so beautifully in the night.
After his first onslaught, she’d slept. But on waking several times, she’d discovered him still with her and he’d taken her again, each time quashing her attempts at communication with his lips or the power of his body.
And yet still she felt horny. She considered masturbating, but the height of the sun in the sky said she’d slept quite late and the sooner she got up, the sooner they could set off for Dragonwood.
A soft knock at the door heralded Starr with her morning tea.
It always amazed her how he could behave with such detached politeness in the morning, when the night before he’d fucked her into mindlessness.
“I trust you slept well, Ma’am,” he said quietly, lightening her strong morning brew with just the right amount of milk.
“Yes, thank you, Starr. Is everything ready for the trip?” she answered briskly. In the harsh light of day it seemed impossible to ask him anything at all. Impossible to attempt anything other than the normal, mannered relationship they maintained during daylight hours.
But in her heart, she cried out passionately.
How do you feel, Starr? How do you really feel? What do I mean to you?
But for the moment she felt shackled by their unspoken rule, in which neither of them ever admitted that their relationship was other than mistress and servant. It was impossible to force the words from her lips.
“Yes, Ma’am. The cases are loaded and Darryl is having his breakfast now. He seems to be looking forward to the
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