Free Garden of Desire: 1 by Delilah Devlin

you’ve never been kissed?”
    She stared at his lips and swallowed. “Never,” she whispered.
    “Come over here.” His voice was a sexy rumble.
    She scooted closer to him on the bed, exquisitely aware of the long, thick shaft sliding along her thigh. The intensity of his gaze frightened and excited her, and she realized she hadn’t let go of his cock. She squeezed her fingers around him and then let him go.
    Cantor moaned. “Witch!” His breath washed over her face as he leaned toward her and pressed his lips to hers.
    Fahgwat forgot to breathe as his mouth slid over hers, rubbing her lips, openmouthed. His had the texture of warm silk and were firm. He took her lower lip between his and sucked.
    Her breath grew uneven and shallow. She slid her fingers through his hair to hold him to her. So lost was she in the kiss, she scarcely noticed when her breasts met his chest. But Cantor moaned into her mouth, and his hand slid over her ribcage to capture one aching breast.
    The nerve endings in her erect little nipple exploded, and Fahgwat moved restlessly on the bed, sliding her legs closer to his. She exhaled, lifting her chest to press against his hand, anything to increase the pressure where she ached most.
    “Easy, girl. We’re taking this slow.” Cantor withdrew his hand and Fahgwat nearly wept with disappointment.
    His mouth slid over hers again, and his tongue slipped inside. It was a soft, furtive caress. She tried to capture his tongue, and a dance of sliding strokes ensued which left Fahgwat trembling.
    When he lifted his mouth from hers, she smiled. “So that was a kiss?”
    “There’s more.” Cantor’s expression was warm and tender.
    With her body nestled close to his larger frame, she felt protected, almost cherished. “I will surely die, my heart beats so fast.”
    His hands cradled her face. “Shall I stop?”
    Remembering her friend’s advice about not spoiling Cantor with too much praise, she suppressed the urge to let him see her growing excitement. Instead, she eyed him with suspicion. “Will I be blushing with embarrassment in the morning?”
    His eyes wrinkled at the corners and his straight, white teeth flashed in a brief smile. “I’ll do my best not to embarrass you—too much.”
    She grimaced. “I guess that I could not be any more embarrassed after showing you my pussy.”
    At his raised eyebrow, she realized her slip and decided to confess. Somehow, her part in the calculated seduction seemed wrong. “Earlier, before Martha brushed my hair, she said if I showed you my woman’s nest, you would be overcome with lust.”
    Cantor’s nostrils flared and his chest expanded. “It worked. I don’t like that you conspired to trap me.”
    “Are you angry with us?”
    His gaze followed his hand as it glided over her hip. Fahgwat had the feeling he wasn’t aware of what the caresses were doing to her, churning her insides—he was intent on his own exploration. “Martha has lot to answer for.”
    Fahgwat slid her foot over his calf and found she liked the sensation of rubbing his silky hair. “Do not blame her. I was just as guilty. And I am not sorry.”
    “How can I be angry,” he asked, “when I have what I crave most, right here?” His large hand covered her buttock and massaged.
    She felt branded with the weight and heat of his palm and excited by the rhythmic motion. “You crave my backside?”
    His hand pressed the small of her back, closely aligning their bodies from chest to toes. “I’m hot for it all—your sweet ass, your hot, naked cunt, your small, round tits.”
    His words, spoken in a strained voice, thrilled her.
    “But you’re an innocent. Your scheme, yours and Martha’s, was very dangerous. I was almost crazed with lust for you,” he said, squeezing her bottom.
    She inhaled sharply and her hip undulated, caressing his cock. “Really?”
    Cantor rubbed his face on her shoulder. “God, yes.”
    “And you aren’t, anymore?”
    “Huh!” he grunted.