It's Friday, thought I'd treat all you hussies to a little hotness....
Wallingford and Jane (at least in my mind)
Matthew slid in beside her, his hand resting beneath her breast. The breeze blew across them, sending a few blossoms wafting down,landing on the exposed flesh of her chest. She moved her hand to brush them off, and Matthew clasped her hand in his, threading his long fingers slowly between hers.
"Let me." Then, lowering his head, he gently blew the blossoms off
her gown. Jane couldn't smother the small cry that escaped her, nor could she
hide the goose bumps that sprang up to cover her flesh. His hand tightened on hers, then his lips brushed over her skin in much the same way as his breath had. Her skin tingled, and an ache developed in her breasts.
"You taste so sweet," he breathed against her flesh. "Your skin is so soft, so warm."
Jane cried out when he unlocked his hand from hers, but her protests ceased when she felt his fingers beneath the edge of her bodice.
"It all went so wrong last night, Jane. So wrong," he murmured as he tugged the bodice lower and ran his tongue along the edge. "You thought I believed you insignificant, but the truth is, I find you fascinating. You think I suppose you're not pretty, but, Jane," he said, looking up, "I find you stunning. Your eyes…your imperfect mouth. It's beautiful, and I want to paint you how I see you, sensual and womanly, dying to break free of an ideal that imprisons you."
His fingers unhooked the top buttons of her gown, and she glanced over to Sarah, who was quite a way away, partially concealed by the trunk of a tree.
"She sleeps deep," he whispered as he parted her bodice to reveal the swells of her breasts, "and I need you. I know your body is not mine, that you will not give it wholly, but could you give me something of you, Jane?"
She closed her eyes and allowed him to bend his head to her breasts. He nudged the gown lower with his mouth, nipping her skin.
"Yes," she murmured. Tentatively, she ran her fingers through his hair.
"Matty," she whispered in ascent, holding hiim close to her, "please..."
Bran (the hair is wrong, but boy oh boy, the pose is dead on!)
In three strides he was at Mairi's side, pulling her away from Suriel.
“Come with me,” he growled.
She dug the heels of her shoes into the carpet. “I don’t think so.”
Bran’s mood blackened and he picked her up, carrying her out of the room and to the stairs that led to his bedroom.
“Put me down,” she yelped, hitting his back with her fists. He did, but then all but dragged her up the stairs before shoving open the bedroom door. He slammed it shut and pressed her against it with his body. He was hot. Hard. And dying for her.
“If you want it so bad,” he growled, “I’ll give it to you.”
Roughly, Bran crushed his mouth against Mairi’s, forcing her to accept him, wiping away all traces of Suriel. Moaning, Mairi wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing the mounds of her breasts up against his chest. His body tightened, his cock swelling. Their kiss was unbroken as he crossed the floor and pushed her on to the bed. Her body was restless against his, her fingers clenching in his hair, bringing him closer to her. Bran’s kiss turned more carnal, and Mairi returned it with exuberance, matching his rhythm and allowing her tongue to dance with his.
“I want you naked,” he said in a gruff voice. He wanted to tear that dress from her body but he didn’t want to spare the time, so he waved his hand and the fabric melted away. He smiled in triumph before lowering his head, preparing to devour her whole...