Free Shadow's Light by Nicola Claire

touch was like a flame to a moth, like honey to a bee, I craved it. I wanted it. I couldn't deny myself this moment. It was what I wanted most of all in the world. I would gladly give up my soul for one more moment in bed with Michel.
    I began removing my jacket and started to take my singlet off too. A wetness had already formed between my legs. I moaned as Michel shifted to position himself above me. I wanted him so badly, I wanted him right now.
    More musical chimes interrupted my pleasure. I wasn't used to hearing them in our house. Then in between his nips and suck, his licks and kisses - which were driving me to fever pitch, so close to the edge I thought I would explode - were further noises that were out of place in our bedroom. Someone had started shouting something and I recognised the voice. It wasn't Michel's. I stopped kissing Michel back and tried to decide whose voice it was and where they were. They sounded desperate for me to listen to them. But Michel simply couldn't hear them, or he thought they weren't important, because he drew my attention back to him with his hand slipping beneath my skirt and starting a gentle stroke above my wet core.
    I arched against him and relished the sensations I had for so long considered gone. This feeling of letting go. But I couldn't let go, there was a reason why. I just couldn't remember what that reason was right now. The chiming got louder, Michel became more determined to seek my pleasure. Pressure built; wonderful, beautiful, pressure. I rode his fingers, crying out for something more. He didn't disappoint, removing my panties completely, but simply pushing my skirt up my thighs and out of his way.
    Another unwanted thought interrupted my precious moment with my kindred. I hadn't been wearing a skirt. Had I? The chiming changed, lowering to a seductive tone. It wrapped around me as surely as Michel's hands wrapped around my hips and then he slid between my legs preparing to enter me. The touch of his hard tip at my entrance made me groan and all other thoughts disappear from my mind. Just my kindred, just Michel and what I wanted so desperately, so badly, so fiercely to happen next. I hunted it, I sought it, I chased that next longed-for sensation. There was nothing in this world, on this Earth, that I wanted more than Michel to be deep inside me, encased in my swollen centre, rubbing, grinding, rocking me to oblivion.
    And then Avery was there, taking away my moment, my happiness, my release. Denying me what I wanted most. I sank to a cold, hard, unforgiving, concrete pavement - so far removed from the bedroom in St. Helier's Bay - and moaned in unrelieved hunger. My hand automatically going to my groin, my thighs squashed together trying to find some form of relief from the unrelenting urge to find release. I needed that release. I needed it now and it didn't matter that I was panting and now on a busy street in Rio. It didn't matter that I was no longer with Michel by my side. In my head, Michel was still there. In my head, Michel was going to give me what I needed, what I craved above all else.
    I didn't manage to finish the picture I was forming, at that thought in my mind. Avery, bloodied and dishevelled and with eyes shining jade, scooped me up and I just screamed in frustration.
    “Ms. Monk. We must leave, now!”
    He crushed me to his chest and despite the blood I could smell on him, despite the coolness of the breeze against my arms as he flashed through the streets, I twisted in his grasp, closed my eyes and imagined I was still with Michel.
    I recognised the hallway to my apartment and I almost lost my hold on the magnificent movie of being with Michel playing in my mind. I heard the door crash closed behind us and then I was placed on top of a bed.
    “I need,” I panted.
    “I know,” he said. “I'll make it go away.” I could barely understand him through the fog in my mind.
    Then I was back with Michel again, I rubbed against his thigh, dumbfounded