Possession
a novella by Mardi
Ballou
Here’s
an excerpt. Enjoy!
All the nights when Nicholas had dreamt of being with Anna like this paled
in comparison with the reality. He’d never expected them to be together
in this intimate way until they could at last exchange sacred vows.
He wanted Anna’s first time to be wonderful -- the best it could be for
a virgin. Most of all, he wanted not to hurt her, ever. With his senses inflamed
from her nearness and her loveliness, he had to chide himself to be gentle,
be gentle -- even when all that passed between them was a simple kiss. How
not to give in to his arousal and need when she was so wonderfully soft
and beautiful and warm -- and he’d been waiting so long. Sometimes he sensed
he’d begun waiting for her before this lifetime -- that she was the reason
he’d first been drawn to this place and time.
They’d shared kisses before, each one a foretaste of ecstasy. Those earlier
forays did nothing to diminish the wonder of his mouth on hers tonight,
of her lips parting to allow him entrance. Deep in the cold winter, she
tasted like the heather and wild berries of the moors’ summer. Her breath
warmed him like the long absent sun, and he yearned to lose himself in her
as he did in the moors he’d idealized since earliest childhood.
His hands found the sweet mounds of her small round breasts, and she moaned
with pleasure at the touch of his calloused fingers. Regretting the roughness
of his skin, he constrained himself to be tender, a challenge when her nipples
beaded with joy at his slightest touch. More than life itself, he wanted
to see her flesh, to touch her, taste her, smell her, and hear her heart
beating in time with his. He thrilled at the soft mewls that escaped her
lips. “You, my dear one, are wearing far too many clothes,” he whispered,
too caught up now to stop.
She drew away from him for just a moment and made quick work of removing
her frock. He watched in stunned fascination as she revealed herself to
him, quickly divesting herself of her simple undergarments, rolling down
the stockings that encased her strong, shapely legs. In the flickering firelight
that cast soft shadows about the tiny room, she glowed lovelier than any
mythical goddess. She glanced over at him languidly, surely aware of the
feminine power she now held over him.
“What of you? Do you stay fully clad while I loll here, naked as the day
of my birth?” She lay back on her elbow and lifted a knee, the better to
tease him with the dark triangle at the vee of her muscular thighs. Innocent
that she was, Anna moved with the cunning of an experienced whore when it
came to knowing how to tempt him. She licked her sweet pink lips, tossed
her head with seeming nonchalance, and lounged on his bed as long, Gypsy-black
curls cascaded around her.
His cock, already engorged past endurance, now throbbed with urgency to
sink into her warm depths. He made quick work of tossing off his shirt and
breeches, then his boots, and he shivered. Where should he kiss her first?
Such a conundrum. With a muffled growl, he nestled his head between her luscious
breasts, inhaling her scent as he ran his fingers over her deep pink nipples,
once again grown hard with her nascent desires. His mouth traveled to where
his fingers had been, and he licked and sucked her nipples as she ran her
fingers through his dark hair and held his head firmly to her.
“Oh, Nicholas,” she whispered. “So this is what the great mystery is. I’ve
waited so long.”
“We’re not there yet, my darling,” he murmured. They would be soon. He
knew he couldn’t tarry overly long before he had to take her and make her
completely his.
He kissed his way down from her breasts, across her flat stomach, to her
sweet womanly mound, obscured by curling black hairs. He ran a finger down
her slit, and Anna jumped slightly at his touch. Her sweet red lips formed
an “O” of surprise. To his amazement and delight, she was already wet for
him, and his finger slid directly into her. He inhaled her spicy musk and,
his head whirling, growled. Then he tongued her pink folds, and Anna gasped
in surprise.
Her fingers still entwined in his hair, she held his head against her core
and moved to an instinctual rhythm.
“Mmm,” she murmured, her head turning back and forth against his pillow
in rising agitation. As she pressed herself harder to him, he increased the
tempo of his kisses and touches, inserting a second finger into her. So
tight, so warm, so welcoming. Anna paused a moment at the press of his fingers
in her, as if trying to assess this new sensation. He forced himself to
stop, to see if she was ready for him to move them along.
“Yes,” she said, seeming to answer his unasked question. She lowered herself
to take in his fingers, and moved her hips experimentally, pausing to savor
each shift. Sooner than he anticipated, she started to arch her hips in
a harder and faster rhythm, and he knew she would climax shortly.
©
2007 Mardi Ballou