Excerpt from chapter seven – Lost and Found – Where Daffodils Grow Wild
She dropped her load of wood and, brushing the splinters off her hands, began to undo her blouse. The laces slipped apart easily, exposing her full, bare breasts. She cupped her hands underneath them to impress upon him the ripeness – the readiness. Then, lace by lace, she undid her skirt until it fell to the forest floor. She had forgotten her pantaloons that morning so, besides her corset, all that presented itself was pure, rosy white skin with a triangular patch of furry brown between slender thighs.
Hardly able to contain himself after so many days and nights of self control, the man immediately dropped his armload and reached out for her, taking her in his arms. Her skin felt like velvet between his calloused palms, but his touch was gentle. He ran his fingers along her curves, then groped down to the warm hair between her legs, dipping his fingers into her wetness. Proberta fell to her knees, thrusting herself into his eager hand. Fondling her until she was crying out for him to stop, he then pulled his fingers out and, grabbing her firm buttocks from behind, with his other hand, undid his belt buckle producing a massively erect penis. Without a moment to lose, he entered her, full and hard. She collapsed into erotic bliss. After having this man lie beside her, motionless, for well more than a week, she found she was more than ready to succumb to his sexual desire – to her desire.
Excerpt from Chapter Three – A Cloud of Hawthorne
She stood up, brushed the dust from her skirt, and walked around till she stood tall and straight behind Henley. Reaching over his shoulders, she started with the top button of his starched white cotton shirt, and worked her way down until it peeled off him easily. Her soft palms rubbed along his chest to broad shoulders, where she began kneading his taut muscles. To her surprise, he was strong and muscular. Opening a jar on the small table beside the chair, Rosetta dabbed a generous amount of warm salve on Henley’s neck.
“What’s that?” Henley asked, melting against each press of her fingers.
“It’s hawthorne salve, made from this very tree.”
A fragrant essence wafted into the room. Henley began to relax. Before he knew it, the crackle of wood in the fire, the scent of hawthorne berries, and the faint sound of a gentle breeze blowing through the trees outside, he began to drift into a the most unusual dream state he’d ever felt. It was as if his spirit was floating above the room, then above the forest, looking down on all there was to see. But he was also looking down at himself, because he was there.
In the dream, the forest was shimmering, as if it were filled with fireflies. Each step he took upon the mossy ground ignited into a blaze of neon. Fairies and wood elves darted from log to log, branch to branch, in merry chase. Music played, women sang and danced, half naked in blissful abandon. There was one woman who stood out from the rest. Her auburn curls fell in layers, covering her body until they nearly touched the ground. But Henley could see her bronze, perfectly round breasts peek out from behind the curtain of hair, see a hint of knee, of delicious inner thigh, and two slender ankles. She smiled at him, then without warning, swept away the thick luxurious strands, revealing a body so provocative, so full and smooth and intoxicating, that it did more than take Henley’s breath away. It made him moan aloud in ecstasy. Rosetta dug her deft fingers deeper into his muscular shoulders and smiled.
Excerpt from Chapter Eight – A Cloud of Hawthorne
She took one of his hands and directed it to the top lace of her corset, feeding his fingers through as each one came undone. He was more aroused with each loosened cord, as more of her dark, supple skin became exposed. Soon the corset fell away completely, and he stared at her round breasts, and full figure. He found it hard to contain himself, but he knew he must. Patience, he reminded himself.
“You’re a fast learner, Henley.” Again she smiled. He began to reach toward her protruding nipple, just to touch, just to brush its tender tip.
“Ah ah ah,” she shook her finger teasingly. “Not just yet. You are hungry. This is good,” she said. “But you must be ravenous.”
She took his hand again, and while she slipped out of her pantaloons, she let his hand follow hers as she slid them off her hips and down her legs. His breath quickened as he touched her velvety skin, awakening a desire that had been dormant for far too long. Rosetta seemed perfectly comfortable sitting on the sheepskin rug, naked, with Henley quivering beside her. She kissed him again, then pulled back.
“How are you feeling, Henley?” She asked.
Not exactly sure how to reply, but feeling unusually comfortable, he answered honestly.
“Excited, nervous, warm, happy.”
“Good, I’m glad. Glad because I like you, Henley. You have a good heart, a good spirit. You deserve much more in life than what you’ve been offered thus far.” She turned toward the flames that flickered wildly in the great stone hearth. “When it comes to sexual experience, love or lust, men in particular often become arrogant, thinking they know it all. They don’t, but they think it’s important that they do.” She returned her gaze to him. “You’re not like that, and that’s a good thing. You’re like a blank canvas, an open book, ready to be filled.”
Excerpt from the chapter – Seeing Things – Salon Antics
While Liam had been distracted, the stripper had added arms to her performance, taunting the audience with hand gestures to the area where her legs parted, or by running her gloved fingers up her legs. She was removing her stockings now. He watched in rapt attention. The music was hypnotizing, as were her moves. As she ran her graceful fingers from the tip of her toes to the darkness that was between her thighs, Liam realized he was getting very turned on. His pants began to bulge and he desperately wanted to get laid – now. But he was so entertained by the performance that he couldn’t – wouldn’t tear himself away. He had to see who this mystery woman behind the shadows was.
Excerpt from the chapter – Miguel – Salon Antics
As they darted up the white sandy beach, they realized it was completely void of people.
Miguel smiled, drew her in and held her close. She let him hold her, hearing nothing but the gull’s cries and the fierceness of the tidal currents collide with the shore. Suddenly his lips were on hers, and she responded, hers wet and willing. His tongue entered easily as she opened her mouth and tilted her head toward his, giving herself to him. This feeling of freedom was pure ecstasy to her, and she felt it right through to her bones.
As his tongue reached toward the back of her throat her body pressed closer to his. She found his free hand and placed it on her stomach, guiding it slowly downward. He dropped the load he had been carrying to release himself fully to her. He had waited for this moment since their first encounter when they had met. He didn’t intend to lose it now.
Excerpt from the chapter – New Beginnings – More Than Just Friends
Their clothes were halfway off by the time his front door closed behind them, their quickened breath filling all twenty-five hundred square feet of his stylish apartment with anticipation. She let herself be thrown down onto the king size bed, and allowed him to finish undressing her one item at a time until she was lying on top of the down-filled duvet in only her pink lace bra and thong. He kissed her forehead affectionately then moved to her warm, rosy cheeks. He nibbled at her ears before he worked his way downward. Sensitive to her vulnerability tonight, but assertive enough to be gloriously erotic, he parted her legs. They opened with ease. She shut her eyes and moaned, feeling an urgency that had been burning inside her since her rescue, moreover since they first met.
They flirted on the edge, foreplay being the name of the game. He cupped her breasts then touched her hardened nipples that protruded from beneath the lace trim of her bra, which remained clasped around her chest. He repeatedly kissed the inside softness of her thighs and toyed with his tongue the garters attached to the black silk stockings she’d worn just for him. Never once did he attempt to remove a garment. He was more than satisfied, and so was she, neither one of them in any hurry to take things farther than this erotic display of affection. Instead they savored the moment like a gift.