Between the Sheets
a novel by Mardi
Ballou
from Whiskey Creek Press
Here’s
an excerpt. Enjoy!
“I’ve missed you,” Dylan moaned when they took a break in their questing
kisses. His fingers traced Courtney’s hairline. When she brought her hand
to his cheek, he placed his hand on hers, then brought her fingers to his
mouth and sucked each one.
She stiffened. “Dylan, my empty bed is waiting.”
One looked at the other, then both raced through the house, each whipping
off clothes and flinging them wherever. Once under silk sheets, they fell
into each other’s arms.
“Hurry,” Courtney demanded, breathing into Dylan’s ear as he embraced her
and bent to greet her breasts.
He groaned.
“Kiss my breasts later,” she moaned, arching herself against him so he’d
feel the enormity and urgency of her need for him. She’d grown so wet seeing
him in the restaurant, she’d nearly slid all the way home. “Come into me
now.”
“Are you sure you’re ready?”
“If I were any more ready, I’d be hanging from the ceiling.” To prove her
point, Courtney climbed on top of Dylan, straddled him, and eased herself
onto his bulging erection. She immediately began to grind herself against
him, riding him like he was headed for the Triple Crown.
“Courtney, Courtney, if we keep this up I’m going to lose control. Let’s
slow it down.”
“I want it fast and hard, Dylan. Give it to me. We have time for slower
later. Right now, give it to me so fast and hard.”
He did. She matched him stroke for stroke, crowing with the pleasure of
feeling him fill her, caressing her most intimate spots with the hard velvet
of his penis. She cried out his name in release half a moment before he joined
her in the same mind numbing joy.
Both spent, they collapsed together. She fitted herself to him as if to
ensure no millimeter of air wedged between them. They hugged and exchanged
little kisses, nonsense whisperings, and snuggles.
She was still atop Dylan when she asked, “So what are your plans for the
day?”
He grinned at her. Realizing she’d never get a coherent response while
they lay so intimately bonded, she rolled off him -- but not too far.
He looked at her from behind half lowered eyelids. “Plans? Well, I was
going to go home and write an explanation for Einstein’s Theory of Relativity.
But after the way we just made love, I think my IQ’s down to about three.
So I’ve abandoned that and am your willing love slave. What do you have in
mind?”
She smiled wickedly and ran her foot along his leg. “I don’t know if my
mind has anything to do with it, but I want us to spend the day in bed. The
whole day. You’ll be my prisoner here. You think you could go for that?”
“You’re a hard woman, Courtney Clayton,” he teased. “But you’ve just made
me an offer I can’t refuse. Your prisoner, eh?”
Touching his growing erection, she said, “I’m not the one who’s hard around
here. That hard cock sentences you to do my bidding.”
“Just call me slave,” he murmured.
“Slave.” She drew several silk scarves from the drawer of her night table.
“What’s that?” He started to sit up.
“Just lie back, slave. I’ll tell you what you need to know.” She took his
right hand and tied him to a bar of her iron headboard with a red scarf.
“Hey,” he said, laughing. “Where’d you learn to tie knots? I can be out
of this one in two seconds flat.”
She pressed her hips against him. “Play along,” she commanded.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Or should I say, Your Wardenship.”
“Mistress sounds just fine.”
“Right. Mistress. Ouch,” he protested as she tied his left wrist with a
black scarf. “That one’s lots tighter.”
“Told you I’m a fast learner.”
She tied both ankles to the bedposts with other scarves. “Now I have you
just where I want you,” she exclaimed, feasting her eyes on his magnificent
spread-eagle vulnerability.
Despite Dylan’s protests, his erection throbbed at an amazing angle, so
she knew he was enjoying her game. . . at least as much as she was.
“Courtney, Courtney, let me out,” he called.
“Not until you’ve been in.” She took the head of his straining cock into
her eager mouth.
He sizzled like raindrops falling on an overheated tin roof.
As she explored every vein and twitch of his straining love muscle, Dylan
thrashed and struggled, adding to her fun. She juggled his balls as she
played her mouth games.
“You’re killing me,” he accused Courtney, who was far too polite to respond
when she had her mouth full.
©
2006 Mardi Ballou