Taran?” she
asked, unable to recall the last time she’d simply played in the snow.
“Sure, primarily I made forts and snowballs to clobber
Ethan, why?”
“I’m trying to find out what you were like as a kid,” she
answered. “You didn’t try to beat Phalen?”
“Phalen had ways of turning us into snow-covered chumps.”
What she wanted to say was that she’d never been great with
intimacy or relationships and she was trying to understand the art of small
talk. Her innocence was torn to pieces after Mark, more so after his uncle
caused her to lose so much more than her virginity.
“Samantha, stay focused on me,” Taran whispered when they
were at the kitchen door.
“I am,” she said.
“Don’t be afraid. From here on out, I’ve got your back,” he
promised.
“Not afraid,” she murmured, shivering a little. Fortunately
Taran radiated sex appeal and warmth.
Taran brought her around to face him. An overhang above the
door shielded them from the biting snow. Snuggling closer to his side, she
breathed him in. He smelled so good she’d gladly spend hours with him just like
this. Taking her hand, he lifted it to his mouth.
“You are everything to me, Samantha. That’s why I’m doing
this out here…because once we’re inside the house, I don’t know how long it’s
going to be before we’re naked and I’m inside you.”
“What do you mean by this ?” Stunned to learn he was
trembling and seemed as nervous as she was, she leaned in closer, enjoying the
intimacy they shared.
He kissed her fingers, turning her palm over to press his
mouth there. His tongue, hot and warm, swiped her skin, tasting her. Snow
coated his hair and hers. Flakes melted on their leather jackets.
Lowering her hand, he placed it over his groin. He was hard.
She could feel his cock throb, regardless of his thick jeans and boxers being
in the way.
“Marking you,” he explained, leaning down and kissing her
softly on the lips.
“Oh,” she whispered. “Can we do that again?”
“Yeah, we’ll do it a lot,” he reassured, capturing her lips
again, only instead of being gentle he thrust his tongue between her lips,
ravaging her mouth.
Raising his hand, he caught the back of her hair in his
fingers, pulling enough to demand control. It didn’t hurt, but a spark of
intense heat spread through her due to his roughness.
Taran grunted and used his grip on her hair to turn her head
in a way that would be more comfortable for both of them. The change allowed
his tongue to forge deeper into her mouth.
He tasted like pizza. She probably did too. They shared a
likeness for pepperoni. She liked that a lot.
His cock jumped beneath her hand, distracting her. Brushing
her palm up and down his fly, she enjoyed knowing she wielded so much power
right then. All she had to do to touch his bare flesh was open the fly and
navigate his boxer shorts.
A tug of his hand on her hair separated them slightly.
Feeling as if she were a heroine on the cover of a bodice-ripper romance novel,
she loved how he used both hands to snag more of her hair.
“You’re mine, Samantha. Say it before we walk through that
door.”
“We covered that at the truck,” she uttered, wishing he’d
kiss her again. She tried to fight for it, but Taran had two fistfuls of hair.
“Say it. And mean it.”
“I’m yours.”
Without missing a beat, he kissed her with near savage
intent. His hands pulled on her hair just a little bit more, forcing her to
rely on him. It was exciting beyond her understanding.
“Are you mine, pretty boy?” she asked when he let up.
“Yes, yours,” he declared, kissing his way from her chin to
her throat, found her pulse and bit down.
“Taran!” she gasped, shocked he bit so hard, yet more so by
the tingling heat sizzling outward from the point of the bite, seeming to arrow
straight to the heart of her pussy.
“First mark’s always the deepest,” he warned, biting her a
second time before sucking so strongly
asked, unable to recall the last time she’d simply played in the snow.
“Sure, primarily I made forts and snowballs to clobber
Ethan, why?”
“I’m trying to find out what you were like as a kid,” she
answered. “You didn’t try to beat Phalen?”
“Phalen had ways of turning us into snow-covered chumps.”
What she wanted to say was that she’d never been great with
intimacy or relationships and she was trying to understand the art of small
talk. Her innocence was torn to pieces after Mark, more so after his uncle
caused her to lose so much more than her virginity.
“Samantha, stay focused on me,” Taran whispered when they
were at the kitchen door.
“I am,” she said.
“Don’t be afraid. From here on out, I’ve got your back,” he
promised.
“Not afraid,” she murmured, shivering a little. Fortunately
Taran radiated sex appeal and warmth.
Taran brought her around to face him. An overhang above the
door shielded them from the biting snow. Snuggling closer to his side, she
breathed him in. He smelled so good she’d gladly spend hours with him just like
this. Taking her hand, he lifted it to his mouth.
“You are everything to me, Samantha. That’s why I’m doing
this out here…because once we’re inside the house, I don’t know how long it’s
going to be before we’re naked and I’m inside you.”
“What do you mean by this ?” Stunned to learn he was
trembling and seemed as nervous as she was, she leaned in closer, enjoying the
intimacy they shared.
He kissed her fingers, turning her palm over to press his
mouth there. His tongue, hot and warm, swiped her skin, tasting her. Snow
coated his hair and hers. Flakes melted on their leather jackets.
Lowering her hand, he placed it over his groin. He was hard.
She could feel his cock throb, regardless of his thick jeans and boxers being
in the way.
“Marking you,” he explained, leaning down and kissing her
softly on the lips.
“Oh,” she whispered. “Can we do that again?”
“Yeah, we’ll do it a lot,” he reassured, capturing her lips
again, only instead of being gentle he thrust his tongue between her lips,
ravaging her mouth.
Raising his hand, he caught the back of her hair in his
fingers, pulling enough to demand control. It didn’t hurt, but a spark of
intense heat spread through her due to his roughness.
Taran grunted and used his grip on her hair to turn her head
in a way that would be more comfortable for both of them. The change allowed
his tongue to forge deeper into her mouth.
He tasted like pizza. She probably did too. They shared a
likeness for pepperoni. She liked that a lot.
His cock jumped beneath her hand, distracting her. Brushing
her palm up and down his fly, she enjoyed knowing she wielded so much power
right then. All she had to do to touch his bare flesh was open the fly and
navigate his boxer shorts.
A tug of his hand on her hair separated them slightly.
Feeling as if she were a heroine on the cover of a bodice-ripper romance novel,
she loved how he used both hands to snag more of her hair.
“You’re mine, Samantha. Say it before we walk through that
door.”
“We covered that at the truck,” she uttered, wishing he’d
kiss her again. She tried to fight for it, but Taran had two fistfuls of hair.
“Say it. And mean it.”
“I’m yours.”
Without missing a beat, he kissed her with near savage
intent. His hands pulled on her hair just a little bit more, forcing her to
rely on him. It was exciting beyond her understanding.
“Are you mine, pretty boy?” she asked when he let up.
“Yes, yours,” he declared, kissing his way from her chin to
her throat, found her pulse and bit down.
“Taran!” she gasped, shocked he bit so hard, yet more so by
the tingling heat sizzling outward from the point of the bite, seeming to arrow
straight to the heart of her pussy.
“First mark’s always the deepest,” he warned, biting her a
second time before sucking so strongly
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