Free Escape From Reality by Adriana Hunter Page B

as he drove himself forward, her hips rolling upward, her body accepting
everything he had to give her.
    Finally he
stopped, exhaling against her neck, holding himself inside her for a moment.
Raising his head, he braced his forearms on either side of her, his fingers
playing over her face, finally coming to rest in her hair, tangling themselves
in the long strands. His breath moved across her forehead, and then his lips
pressed against her skin.
    Her hands
skated over the hot skin of his back, playing over broad shoulders, down the
ridge of his spine, lower, to the small of his back, and then up the sharp
slope of his buttocks. She dug her fingers into firm flesh and as if spurred on
by her touch, she felt the muscles beneath her hands clench, his hips driving
forward even further, as impossible as that seemed.
    And then he was
moving, hard and fast, Leila matching him stroke for stroke, as if all the
anticipation and pent up longing had been released. He buried his face in her
neck, his breath rasping harshly against her skin.
    Leila tipped
her head back, sounds she never realized she could make coming from her parted
lips as every thrust drove her toward some unimagined plane of pleasure. Every
inch of her body was alive like it had never been before. The core of her,
where he lay claim to her, where they were joined, felt like a molten pool.
    She lost track
of time, focusing only on the movements of their bodies. At some point he slid
a hand beneath her ass, fingers digging into her flesh, lifting her, his body
flexing and twisting, as if there were some way he could consume more of her,
or she more of him.
    His sounds had
deepened, moans becoming growls, growing louder, more urgent. Leila’s arms were
flung wide now, fingers twisting in the sheets, her body speeding toward what
could only be oblivion.
    He drew back
from her, his chest rising from hers, and her body instantly arched upward,
taking on a life of its own as his hips drove into her at a relentless pace.
Something deep and powerful welled up inside her and she writhed beneath him,
head thrashing from side to side. The world went soundless for a moment and
then she heard herself, from a distance, then louder, clear, cry after cry as
her body shuddered and twisted in his grasp. Finally the tremors slowed and she
drew a shaky breath.
    His arms were
still wrapped around her, holding her loosely, and he thrust slowly, but not as
deeply. She relaxed in his arms, letting his momentum carry her for a moment.
    Gradually his
thrusts became shaper, harder, more aggressive, each one accompanied by a deep
grunt. Leila drew her legs higher along his body, wrapping them around his
waist. Her movements triggered something in him and his arms tightened around
her again, his body wrapping around hers.
    With a sudden
powerful thrust, he sank himself deeply, completely, holding himself still
inside her. Every muscle in his body was taut, his arms like iron bands around
her. She held her breath, not wanting to break his concentration, waiting for
him, for what she felt certain would be his climax.
    Then beneath
her hands he began to move, his hips pumping hard and fast into her, each
thrust accompanied by a noise so primal it sent a shiver through Leila’s body.
She was unprepared for the intensity of his climax, for the power of his
thrusts, the animalistic noises.
    Leila was swept
up in his passion, in his release, her body responding to his, a fresh cascade
of sensations sweeping through her. She found herself answering his cries with
her own, her body alive again with ecstasy.
    They held each
other for a moment, arms and legs relaxing, slowly moving apart. He rolled onto
his back next to her and she curled against him, hand on his chest as his arm
encircled her. The soft breeze from the window played across her skin, a
delicious counterpoint to the heat that spread across her body.
    Leila had never
felt so complete. Not just happy, but as if for the first time,