Fire: Chapter Eighteen

NATURAL PASSIONS, PART I

Around them the overhanging trees wafted in the soft breeze, sunshine filtering through in a dancing gauze of golden light, and the long, lush
grass underneath them was deep and as comfortable as any bed. The delicate scent of wildflowers and daffodils drifted through the air. They were hidden from the world, in an enchanted hollow filled with magic and passion, and Shannon was with her man, her knight, her Galahad.

Shannon's long hair was spread out around her like a shimmering chestnut veil. She wrapped her arms more tightly around Michael and held him against her. He pushed his pelvis against hers as their kiss deepened, his tongue searching the inside of her mouth as she surrendered completely. Further down, she could already feel her warm, wet petals unfurling, eager for him. Her mouth mirrored what was happening down at her very core. Taking his tongue as deep inside her mouth as she could, she let him take her over, kissing, exploring, tasting, sharing. Finally they broke for air, gasping. Shannon went to speak but Michael put a gentle finger to her lips. 

"Ssssssh...." he whispered, his hazel eyes reflecting the dappled sunlight that filtered through the sheltering trees. She understood. No words. Now was the time for saying what could only be said without words.

Shannon could feel his manhood, straining hard against his jeans and pushing against her centre as she wrapped her legs around him. She reached down and released him, and he smiled at her, rolling his eyes with a sigh of relief as his long, thick cock sprang free. She stroked him gently and watched with fascination as he closed his eyes and moaned softly, his breathing becoming faster and deeper as she strengthened her grip and stroked him harder. "Ohhhhh...." he sighed. Gently, she reached her hand underneath and stroked the incredibly soft, velvety skin of his balls. An animal sound came from his lips and he gripped her wrist, pushing her hand back and down, palm-up on the soft grass. Shannon resisted against his grip, knowing how gentle he was in everyday life, never harming a fly, knowing she was absolutely, completely safe with him, even like this, when he became a wild man.

As strong as she was, he was stronger and she could never get away from his grip - she didn't want to. But she had to pretend to fight back - it was part of the game. She snarled at him like a tigress and he grinned insanely at her, his hair falling across his face in a tousled mane. He caught her mouth with his. She ached for him.

With his free hand, Michael deftly unbuttoned her shirt, and unhooked her bra's front clasp. The fresh air felt good on her skin and she could feel her nipples peaking in anticipation. Shannon pulled his shirt out from his jeans and slid her hand up his bare back. It was warm, smooth and perfect. He had such beautiful skin. She could smell the grass and the daffodils and the sunshine, but she could also smell his clean musky male scent - wild heather and tobacco, and sex...

Michael ran his palm over her nipples and then took one in his mouth, kissing and lapping and sucking gently. Shannon gasped at the intense pleasure as her nipple grew in her lover's mouth and she bucked her hips against him, but he had her firmly pinned down. She stroked his hair with her free hand, relishing its softness and raking her fingers through his long silky chestnut locks. His hair smelled like herbs and wildflowers. Oh God, she thought to herself, Michael I want you, I want you right now...