Fingers stroking, bodies pressed tightly together, Michael's tongue explored hers in a heated swirl of passion. They were in the living room, the fire sparkling in heated eyes, the teasing glint in his orbs meeting her daring stare.
Sara knew she had never felt like this about anyone. She had never loved another like she did Michael. She pulled away to voice this sentiment and then his answering mouth was ravenously back for more, sucking her bottom lip in an almost painful grip that made her all the more wet, all the more needy for the fingers that where now moving between her thighs.
A gasp, a moan and then, "Bend over," whispered softly in her ear, his voice filled with the same yearning that was moving hotly within Sara.
"Like this?" She rested her hands on the back of the sofa and looked back at him teasingly, her hair falling over her face in a sensual dance of visual foreplay; silk on skin, heated copper moving over his tanned, inked flesh, drinking him down.
She couldn't seem to get enough of him these days; the last week spent in a secluded cabin in the middle of no where had proven that. Each time he suggested they do something it would turn into this, Michael hot against her, inside of her, her tongue playing over his moist skin, his mouth on her most tender spots making her scream his name.
Most of the time it was Sara who had instigated these couplings, she had to confess, but not this time, no.
Could she be to blame for the short doctor's coat she had smuggled in with her other things, maybe. Could she be at fault for using it as a robe, being too lazy to get dressed after her shower, most certainly.
She smiled wickedly as his hands moved under the coat to her hips, each finger leaving a hot print, searing her skin as he pulled her closer, his thighs brushing her ass, the soft skin pliant to his touch.
Sara wanted him inside her, but he was being such a tease. She could feel the tip of him pushing into her wetness, but only enough to make her hiss. Each time he would pull back just before she could thrust backwards, sending him deeper.
Hoping to move the game forward she eased up and turned her body to face him, her ass landing on the low back of the sofa. Cupping her breasts in her hands Sara spread her legs for him. His grin like a missile moved straight into the heat of her core and she felt herself growing wetter with need.
Moving her hands, her thumbs played along her hard nipples teasing his eyes, her desire reflected up at him in pools of molten copper.
Sara wanted, no needed him inside her, not later, now, and she was ready to beg if necessary. But begging wouldn't be necessary and she knew this. She could see it in his aroused eyes, the way his tongue shot out to lick at his full bottom lip dousing it.
Her own tongue shot out to mimic, to draw his attention to her lips, and she mouthed the four magic words, "Fuck me, now Michael…
Her hands moved to grip the back of the sofa and she arched her back, readying herself, presenting her pink buds to his full wet lips, his hot tongue.
Lowering his head he sucked at the skin surrounding her nipple ever the tease. She felt as if she might go insane. Leaning back for him, to grant him full access, Sara moaned. His tongue was sweeping hotly under her left breast easing these tiny noises from her swollen lips.
Pressing her body closer, Sara thrust into him, his wet tip sliding easily inside her. Oh God!
Cupping his shorn head she helped him set a rhythm, their bodies dancing to the music of the tiny moans, their breaths spent hotly against sweat moistened necks. The only other sound was that of the wind outside the cabin and the tiny pops and cracking of wood from the fire as if it were heated to match the smoldering couple it bathed in its beautiful, dancing light.
Thighs shaking, he gripped her, the white coat now in a white puddle on the sofa behind her. Sara was glowing, her body a writhing mass of nerve endings under his fingers, his tongue, this piece of him he showed only to her. And that was what she craved more and more with each coupling, not the burst of pleasure at the end, but this...This sharing of a secret place within them both...This melding of souls.
Each thrust of him was growing deeper, harder now, faster, as they sped along to the beat set by their rapid hearts. They were riding this high together, the only high Sara knew she could never live without.
Pulling him closer as her release drew near, Sara's sore lips met his insatiably, her teeth raking over his bottom lip.
He hissed against her and threw back his head, his breath coming faster now.
It was happening for him or soon would be and she was sure to follow close behind.
Pulling his lips back to hers, "Wait for me, Michael." she whispered his words from so many yesterdays into his mouth, and he nodded, his intense eyes going shut as if to look upon her would spill his seed.
His head eased back for her lips and she suckled a path along his pulsing throat, her hot breath sure to leave shivers along his quivering, aching flesh.
She was so close now, she was almost there. She thrust hard against him with a twist of her hips, the heat in her growing, expanding, reaching out to squeeze him as her muscles contracted, hugging him tightly, until he was joining her in an echo of moans to rival the high winds that rocked the cabin.
Standing quietly, entwined in each other's arms they both knew that not only was this real, more real then anything either of them had ever known...
It was forever...