A Storm of Passion Read Free

the other. Connor felt his control slipping, so he clutched the carved arms of the chair to keep from thrusting the length of him into her mouth and throat. Now, it was his breathing that was shallow and wild with need.
    Without lifting her mouth from him, he felt her tug on his trews, sliding them from his hips and off his legs. She moved closer, which made her breasts tease the insides of his now-naked thighs. When she slid to the head of his rod and closed her eyes, Connor knew he would not be able to stop himself.
    The wench opened her mouth and took him into it. The heat and tightness made him ache for release, but he would not give in to that yet. With her hands surrounding it, she leaned down, taking more and more of him into her, until he was deep in her throat and her lips nearly to the base of his rod. His head dropped back against the chair, and he reveled in the sensations of heat and liquid and flesh on flesh. Placing his hand on her head, he did thrust then, once, against the pressure of her hold.
    Connor felt the squeeze of her lips around him and waited. When she slid down on him even further, he let out a moan of pure pleasure at such temptation. Her hands then slid down to lift and caress his sac until it tightened in her grasp. He was near to exploding when the need to plow her deeply and fully took over. He lifted her head from his rod and pulled her forward and up to straddle him.
    “Come, Moira,” he growled. “Ride me, lass. Ride me.”
    Connor lifted her to kneel over his thighs and helped her position over his cock. Then he reached between her legs to make certain she was ready for him. His finger met wetness, and her womanly flesh softened under his touch. He moved his hands to her hips and waited for her to slide down the granite hardness of his erection.
    He gritted his teeth against the feeling of filling her tight channel and let her set the speed of it. Finally, when he thought he would stop breathing, she settled onto him. When his whole length was inside of her, she stopped, opened her eyes, and waited for his reaction. She shifted, and their joined flesh rubbed, each part creating more friction against the other, and he felt something release within him.
    Something primitive. Something feral. Something that screamed at him to take her, to take her hard and deep and to claim her as his.
    Something irresistible.
    Connor wrapped his arms around her and pushed himself up from the chair. She lifted her legs and encircled his waist with them as he walked across the chamber to his bed. Still deep within her, he climbed onto the bed and then fell onto her, driving himself as far into her as he could. He felt her breath being forced out by the pressure of his body on hers and in hers, but he did not pause now.
    Connor slid his hand under her bottom and lifted her hips from the bed, angling them so that he could move deeper inside. Though he wanted to slow down and savor every part of this enigmatic woman, his body ached with the urge to take her. As it tore through him, he moved faster and deeper, ignoring everything else but the exquisite torture of their bodies joining.
    The need within him curled and tensed, tightening with each thrust of his cock into her. He felt the muscles of her womanly channel grab him, and still he thrust, pounding against her womb, his thighs against hers, flesh against flesh until he could not stop. She slid her legs up and down his, silently urging him on, urging him in until he felt her begin to quake around his rod. Her inner muscles tightened and quivered and spasmed, causing him to swell larger and harder and causing his sac to clench in readiness of his own release.
    When that release happened, it was like nothing he’d ever felt before in his numerous encounters with unremembered women. Her body shuddered inside and out as she milked his cock, and he thrust one final time, filling her, taking her, claiming her, marking her with his seed. He spilled deep within