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“I love you, head, ribs, fingers, toes and all,” he said. “So much, you have no idea.”“I’m trying to understand,” I said, pulling his face down. I kissed him; soft, sweet, slow. “Help me learn, Wes. I’m not ... good at this.”“There’s nothing to it,” he assured me. “All you have to do is let go. Whatever tries holding you back, bark at it to fuck off.”I laughed. “Kiss me, you goof.”And he did. It was a kiss of the ages, the kind of kiss that put other kisses to shame. His lips were hot against. Two rare flowers fringed by long, lush spikes of golden brown. Gods curse him, he had almost asked how much the slaver wanted for the little beast wholly on those eyes alone. A fact that had him censoring every word before it could slip out of his mouth as he responded in kind to the greeting he received. The slaver was a respected man in the region, known for the top breeding and nearly obsessive care he provided with his merchandise and the display of beauty that filled the tent was blatant. A fire caught, burned at my core as pleasure rippled through me. I tried to stop it but I could not, it flowed from me, dripped and streamed down the soft skin inside my thigh. He knew. He always knows. He removed his thumb, placed his hand under my chin and raised my eyes to his. My desire had turned to hunger, “Fuck me,” my tone urgent, “fuck me.” “Is that how you ask?” Anger rippled from him. Serpent like fear coiled around my lust and squeezed. Pain burned across my cheek as the back of. The libido shouted loudest and I grabbed her cheeks instead, the skin impossibly soft for her age. Above the mechanical phutting of the coffee machine, I heard her breathe in; a response to my touch. Excitement. The weakness in my DNA surfaced and I knew resistance was futile.I leaned into her ear, pressing against her body so she could feel the extent of my arousal, and whispered, "You're up to no good."She trailed the back of the teaspoon over one breast and I saw the nipple rise in its wake.
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