*Isadora*
The kiss is not a gentle thing. It is wild and hungry from too many nights of abstinence. The heat of it grows when his hands glide over my back, pulling me forward so my bare breasts flattens against his bare chest. I let out a low moan at the silkiness, the heat, the intimacy. How many women know the glorious sensation of their skin touching his ?
He towers over me. I should have felt small, a shrub in the shadow of a mighty oak. Instead, I feel powerful, more in control than I have ever been. We are giving and taking in equal measure. While his experience far exceeds mine, he gives me no cause to believe he finds me any less pleasing than I find him.
While his mouth moves teasingly and provocatively over mine, I glide my hands up over his shoulders, kneading the hard muscl
