Free Body Temperature and Rising - Book One of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy by K. D. Grace Page B

barely formed before the scent of sex shoved in around him from all sides with  oppressive intensity. OK, he’d always had a vivid imagination, but the clarity with which the vision struck him was startling. Marie lay writhing on a bed of cushions and the Elementals were touching her, exploring her, eating her out. But then she was back in her own bed dreaming sex just like he was dreaming sex. He gasped and pressed his thumb to the underside of his cock to keep from coming. Jesus, they were all over her in his imagination! And it was so real! And it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. He more than saw it, he felt it, almost like he was there, almost like his hands were on her, on them, kneading rounded breasts, teasing gaping slick pussy lips apart, raking stiff nipples and clits with impatient fingers.
    And there was someone else, a man. He was surely imagining the man Marie had described to him earlier, the ghost, though he didn’t look very ghostly. He was in a cave, half dressed with his fly open, and Marie was on his lap naked, positioning herself, lowering herself so that her gaping pussy was right above the man’s cock. He lifted her effortlessly and with a grunt slipped up inside her. Tim could feel her tight grip, as surely as if she were mounting him. He could feel her skin, glistening with the heat of lust, he could feel the grudging yield of her hole to the man’s thickness, which felt like his own thickness. 
    Then the smell of sex surrounded him again, closed in on him, and my God, he’d never had such a vivid fantasy! They were all over each other, all over him. He could nearly feel heated flesh against his own fevered skin. He, like the man in his fantasy, struggled to hold back just a little longer, just a tiny bit more, knowing that the orgasm they were all about to have would be shattering, wanting it to be, wanting it to build until it blew him apart into ecstatic little pieces tiny enough to float away on the night breeze off over Robinson and High Spy, out across Derwent Water, dissipating onto the breeze above the Sharp Edge of Blencathera and vanishing deliciously, blissfully, like he’d never been. 
    Then he was back in his body and his cock would be controlled no more. He arched up, heels digging into the mattress, spine bowing, buttocks clenching, flooding the towel with his lust. Behind his tightly closed eyelids pinpricks of light burst into a photo-negative image of the space where Marie and the witches and the dark haired man writhed out their own lust, then he was in Marie’s room watching her rise from her bed, practically floating to the window. And just before he slipped into unconsciousness, he could have sworn that in the mirror standing at the foot of her bed he saw the image of a deep-chested man with a bullwhip curled in his hand. 

Chapter 6

    Marie was surprised at just how close Elemental Cottage was to Lacewing Farm. It was only a quarter of a mile up the main road, then off down a narrow tree-lined lane. The night had cleared and the moon was bright. She found herself in front of a lovely farm cottage, which was considerably larger than either hers or Tim’s. Even in the moonlight she could see that the front garden was beautifully done with climbing roses and wisteria in bloom early because of this spring’s heat. The whole garden grew in managed wild profusion, creating a shield of privacy from the outside world. It was an appropriate home for witches specialising in sex magic, she thought.
    Anderson didn’t knock. He simply opened the door and stepped aside for her. She was instantly engulfed in Tara’s embrace. ‘Oh thank Goddess you’re safe, Marie!’ She gave Anderson an affectionate kiss on the mouth, then returned her gaze to Marie. Her eyes were darker than Marie remembered them and Marie couldn’t keep from feeling that they were hiding something, in spite of her warm smile. Her skin was as pale as porcelain, and the bright patches of colour on her