VOWS OF SIN

Chapter nine

MIDNIGHT VINEYARD ROWS PT 1

The family vineyard estate lay quiet under a full moon. Ophelia could not sleep. She wandered the narrow dirt paths in a delicate vintage lace dress that clung to her porcelain-pale skin and voluptuous figure.

The thin fabric stretched tight across her full breasts, the lace pressing into her soft flesh. Her wide hips and thick thighs brushed against the leaves as she moved, making the vines rustle softly.

Years of emotional isolation and self-imposed celibacy had left her ravenous. Her body ached for touch she had denied herself for too long.

The night air was warm and still, carrying the sweet, heavy scent of ripe grapes and distant fermenting wine.

Ophelia’s bare feet stepped carefully on the cool earth. Between her legs, her p***y already felt warm and slick. Her n*****s were hard, rubbing against the lace with every step and sending small sparks of need through her heavy breasts.

Finn was still out late after a long day of harvesting. His sun-browned, wiry body glistened with sweat. He had stripped off his shirt, revealing the lean muscle earned from manual labor. His shaggy dark blond hair fell into his quiet, intense eyes as he watched Ophelia from between the rows.

He had been observing her for months, her solitary walks, the way her body moved, the hunger she tried to hide. Tonight their paths finally crossed in a secluded section of the vineyard.

Ophelia stopped when she sensed him. She turned slowly. Their eyes locked but neither of them spoke.

Finn stepped closer, barefoot. Grapes occasionally burst softly under his feet, releasing their sweet, sticky juice and heady scent into the warm air.

Ophelia’s breathing deepened. She did not retreat, instead she let the silence stretch between them. The warm night air felt thick with the aroma of ripening fruit and old wine.

Her full breasts rose and fell faster under the lace dress. She could feel her n*****s tightening even more, clearly visible through the delicate fabric. Between her thighs, her p***y throbbed. Fresh wetness leaked out, coating her bare lips and making them slippery. She had not worn anything underneath the dress.

Finn’s gaze traveled openly over her body. He looked at the way the lace dress outlined her heavy breasts, the hard points of her n*****s, the curve of her wide hips, and the soft thickness of her thighs. Ophelia felt exposed, but for the first time in years she also felt powerfully desired. The look in his eyes made her stomach tighten with need.

He reached out first. His calloused fingers brushed a strand of auburn hair from her shoulder.

The rough texture of his skin against her smooth, pale shoulder sent a shiver through her entire body. Then his fingers trailed slowly down her arm, leaving a trail of heat. Ophelia shivered again but did not pull away. Her p***y clenched at the light touch, and more wetness dripped down her inner thigh.

They stood inches apart now. Their bodies were almost touching. The only sounds were their heavier breathing

Ophelia could smell the sweat on his skin mixed with the earthy scent of the vineyard. It was raw and masculine and made her mouth water. She looked at his lean chest, the lines of muscle on his stomach, and the way his worn pants hung low on his hips. The bulge at the front of his pants was obvious and growing thicker.

Finn’s hand settled on her waist. His fingers spread wide, gripping the soft flesh through the thin lace. He pulled her gently but firmly toward him.

Ophelia’s heavy breasts brushed against his bare chest. The contact made her n*****s ache. She tilted her head up, her lips parting slightly. Her green eyes stared into his. She wanted him to kiss her, but he did not. The tension stretched tighter instead.

Finn backed her slowly toward a sturdy wooden trellis covered in thick vines. The rough wood pressed against her back as he guided her into it.

The vines framed them like a private bower, leaves brushing against her shoulders and hair. Ophelia’s back arched slightly, pushing her full breasts forward.

The lace dress had shifted, and one strap had slipped down her shoulder, exposing more of her pale skin and the top curve of her breast.

Finn stood close, his body almost pressed against hers. His hard c**k strained against his pants and nudged her soft stomach. He kept one hand on her waist while the other rested on the trellis beside her head. His breath was warm against her forehead. Ophelia’s hands came up and rested lightly on his bare chest. She felt his heart beating fast under her palms. His skin was hot and slightly damp from sweat.

Ophelia’s p***y was soaked now. Her juices ran freely down her thighs. She could smell her own arousal mixing with the scent of crushed grapes. Her c**t throbbed, begging to be touched. Her heavy breasts felt full and sensitive, the n*****s stiff and aching for his mouth.

Finn’s fingers tightened on her waist.

He leaned in closer, his nose brushing along her temple, inhaling the scent of her hair. His hard c**k pressed more firmly against her body. Ophelia let out a soft, shaky breath.

She tilted her hips forward just a little, seeking more contact. The heat from his body wrapped around her. The moon lit up the side of his face, showing the intense look in his eyes.

Ophelia’s fingers slid slowly down his chest, tracing the lines of muscle. She stopped at the waistband of his pants, her fingertips brushing the skin just above it. Finn’s stomach tightened under her touch. His c**k twitched against her.

He pulled her waist tighter against him. Their bodies were now fully pressed together. Her full breasts flattened against his hard chest. The lace dress did almost nothing to hide how hard her n*****s were. Finn’s free hand moved to her hip, gripping the soft flesh. His fingers dug in just enough to make her feel claimed.

Ophelia trembled.

Her thighs pressed together, squeezing her swollen, wet p***y lips. The pressure felt good but not enough.

She needed more. She needed his hands under the dress, his fingers inside her, his c**k stretching her after years of emptiness. But Finn held back. He kept her pinned gently against the wooden trellis, bodies locked in this aching closeness.

The warm night air moved softly around them.

Finn’s hand slid slightly lower on her hip, fingers brushing the top of her thick thigh where the dress had ridden up. The calloused pads of his fingers felt rough against her smooth skin.

Ophelia’s breath hitched.

She parted her lips again, silently begging for the kiss, but Finn only stared at her mouth, then back into her eyes. The restraint made her more hungry.

They stayed locked like that against the trellis, trembling with need. Ophelia’s body burned for him. Her p***y dripped steadily now, her inner thighs slick and shiny. Her heavy breasts heaved against his chest with every quick breath.

Finn’s c**k was rock hard against her, throbbing with the same desperate want.