Free Escape From Reality by Adriana Hunter

looked at her again.
    There was no
hesitation this time, no gentle teasing. His mouth came down on hers hard and
fast, his lips crushing hers in a kiss that took her breath away. She arched
up, her hand sliding around to cup the back of his head. Her fingers dug into
his thick hair and she held him against her. It was pointless; he obviously
wasn’t going anywhere.
    The only part
of him touching her were his lips, moving over her, consuming her. Leila responded,
parting her lips, her tongue darting out, playing along the sensuous curve of
his lower lip, drawing it into her mouth, sucking and nibbling as if he were a
ripe piece of fruit.
    The kiss
deepened and his tongue joined hers, at times sharp, pointed, probing the
depths of her mouth, other times soft, sliding against hers, teasing her gently
into a duel. He pulled her lower lip into his mouth, repeating her gesture,
sucking briefly, releasing her before plundering her mouth again with his
tongue.
    When he broke
away, it was with a deep gasp, bordering on a growl, an answering whimper coming
from Leila. She tried to pull him back but he shook his head, his mouth curved
into a smile she recognized instantly, the smile she described in her written
pages.
    Sensuous,
with a hint of dominance…no, much more than a hint. His smile told her all she needed to
know; that she was his and there was nothing she could do to change that fact.
    That
realization hit her deep, a thud of arousal blooming low in her belly. The
words she wrote flashed through her mind, what the hero had done to the
heroine—to her—in her scenes. If this fantasy was being concocted
to match her writing, then she knew exactly what he’d do next.
    But nothing was
as she’d written so far. Nothing at all like her own words.
    He bent his
head, his lips moving along her collarbone, dipping lower, sliding along the
edge of her gown for a moment, then kissing the valley between her breasts. His
hand rose, cupping one breast, kneading her flesh with firm fingers. Leila
gasped with pleasure as he slid his thumb across her nipple. The exquisite
sensation as it drew up hard changed her gasp to a low moan. There seemed to be
a direct line between his circling thumb and a very specific spot deep between
her hips. 
    She made a
small noise as his thumb stopped its erotic circle around her hardened nipple
and she heard an answering chuckle, low and deep. His lips moved from her skin,
his breath hot through the satin.
    Leila cried out
as he slowly licked her nipple and she clutched the sheets, not out of tension,
but in ecstasy. At the touch of his wet tongue over the satin, the friction of
the material against her sensitive skin, she arched against him, her hips
rising from the bed.
    The wet satin
molded to her as he repeatedly licked her nipple, occasionally nuzzling his
cheek against her breast. Her body moved on its own, hips undulating from side
to side, her back arching against his mouth. When he slowly pulled the wet
satin aside and blew across her damp skin, she cried out, her nipple puckering
even more, a wash of goose bumps prickling her skin.
    He pulled her
breast into his mouth, sucking hard, almost greedily. Leila felt his body
moving in time with hers, the hip resting against hers pressing against her as
she rose.
    His hand moved
to her other breast, pulling back the gown, fondling her briefly before he
moved to suck that breast.
    Leila’s body
was suffused with a liquid heat, coursing through her, pooling deep inside her.
Her fingers found their way back to his hair, winding through the thick
strands.
    Finally he
looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers. He sat up, took her hands, and pulled
her upright.
    “This comes
off.” His voice was rough with passion and he tugged impatiently on the gown. Leila
rose to her knees and he helped her slide the gown over her head. Before she
could lie back, he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face between her
breasts, turning his head, kissing her softly. He