Théâtre de Passion: Phantom of the Night (book one)
by MICHELLE M. PILLOW, from NCP.
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WARNING: ADULT CONTENT! BY READING THIS EXCEPRT YOU ARE STATING THAT YOU ARE AT LEAST 18 YEARS OF AGE!
Acting on pure instinct, Lily lifted her mouth and pressed it to his, unable to hold back. He gasped in surprise as she slowly kissed him, sucking his bottom lip between hers only to let go. The spinning of their bodies stopped, but the spinning in her head kept her going. She was suspended in the moment, held captive by his embrace. The smell of him engulfed her, making her tremble violently.
Even as he didn’t pull away, she sensed the reserve in him. He was holding himself back, waiting for the miracle that would pry them apart. She understood this as clearly as she understood her own thoughts. Maybe it was his mind melding with hers and maybe it was more than that—maybe it was because she was waiting for the same thing. She heard his heart beating in her ears, felt her blood rushing in his veins.
The words echoed in her brain. It was all there inside them. They were one, souls merging, bodies drawn together. He couldn’t pull away. She needed him too badly. Her body was on fire, her thighs hot, her pussy wet and aching to be filled. So long she’d waited for a man to make her feel such passion as wrote about in plays. Silk glided under his hands as he gripped her hips.
Please. Don’t pull away from me. I want you. I need this. Don’t deny me. Touch me. Kiss me. Love me.
The phantom groaned, deepening the kiss as he delved his tongue into her mouth. He took over, aggressively staking claim to her lips only to pull her tongue between his teeth and suck gently. Lily couldn’t reason, couldn’t think beyond the pleasure of the moment.
Copyright © 2005 Michelle M. Pillow. All Rights Reserved.