RONIN
If you love me, then love me Ronin.
It was all the permission that he needed, that he’d craved and wished for in the moments leading up to this one. Strange and powerful was his goddess, but here and now, in his arms, she was all coy touches and cheeks fired pink with pleasure. And when he had said he wanted her, gods, if only he had realised the height of the cliff from which he had thrown himself.
His hands glided beneath her thighs as she lifted herself up, and he tasted wildfire and lavender on her tongue, her moan quaking through him like a tremor in the earth. Ronin held her easily, her legs locked about him and a heat and friction already building between them that was distracting at worst. Distractedly, he stepped forward that he might sit her upon the edge of the pool, allowing his hands to make an eager if not reverent exploration of the hourglass of her hips, the swell of her breasts, fingers teasing against one erect, pink nipple, savouring these first times.
He wanted her to feel good, wanted to hear more of her voice suffused with pleasure, wanted to bury himself within her and lose the divide where he ended and she began. He broke their kiss, flushed and frustrated, a boyish smile on his face. The hand that had been caressing her breasts whispered up and around the back of her neck now; he guided her back, inviting her to lay down, thighs spread for his waiting mouth.
It was all the permission that he needed, that he’d craved and wished for in the moments leading up to this one. Strange and powerful was his goddess, but here and now, in his arms, she was all coy touches and cheeks fired pink with pleasure. And when he had said he wanted her, gods, if only he had realised the height of the cliff from which he had thrown himself.
His hands glided beneath her thighs as she lifted herself up, and he tasted wildfire and lavender on her tongue, her moan quaking through him like a tremor in the earth. Ronin held her easily, her legs locked about him and a heat and friction already building between them that was distracting at worst. Distractedly, he stepped forward that he might sit her upon the edge of the pool, allowing his hands to make an eager if not reverent exploration of the hourglass of her hips, the swell of her breasts, fingers teasing against one erect, pink nipple, savouring these first times.
He wanted her to feel good, wanted to hear more of her voice suffused with pleasure, wanted to bury himself within her and lose the divide where he ended and she began. He broke their kiss, flushed and frustrated, a boyish smile on his face. The hand that had been caressing her breasts whispered up and around the back of her neck now; he guided her back, inviting her to lay down, thighs spread for his waiting mouth.
what?
