Thrill Seeker by Kristina Lloyd Page A

one hand and signifying without pressure that my arms should stay raised. He wrinkled my skirt high and nuzzled at my clothes, scattering kisses where he found skin, his free hand swirling and massaging on my thighs and midriff.
    The contrast between his slender, calloused hand and the plump wetness of his lips left my body tingling, the folds of my groin fattening with desire. I groaned quietly, basking in his indulgence until, fingers twitching, I slid free of his imprisoning gesture. When I tipped forward to cup his crotch, I found him big and stiff, his shaft trapped by his combats. My pulses raced as I explored, palming the angled heft of him through heavy cotton. A breath caught in Liam’s throat, a noise like a sudden breeze rushing through brittle trees. He gazed down at me, eyes droopy with lust.
    With a single, slender finger, he grazed my gusset. The silky fabric was as thin as molecules. My breath came faster and I felt like I was falling. I closed my eyes, blotches of mustard-yellow and violet swelling and dying in the dark behind my lids. My limbs turned syrupy and it was with some effort that I swivelled in the chair to grant Liam better access. He bent over me as we rubbed and kissed, moaning softly, breathing deeply. His body was smooth, sinewy and warm, hard muscle shifting as he moved. His work-roughened fingers scoured my skin, his touch sure and strong. Everydaylife was swimming away and we were slipping towards that gauzy zone of mutual lust, no distinction between giving and receiving.
    My touch inspired his touch; his lust fuelled my lust; my gasps met his groans.
    I kissed his neck, bristles prickling my lips, and tugged impatiently at his top. When he leaned back to drag his tee over his head, his torso stretched to expose the corrugations of his ribs and the neat scoop of his pecs. Rust-tinged hair flamed in his armpits while his biceps and their pale undersides flexed athletically. He cast his tee onto a heap of lumber while I tried to ease his belt from his buckle. My fingers were all thumbs so Liam took over, stripping completely and dropping his remaining clothes onto sawdust-strewn cobbles. Muscle and sinew corded his arms, his summer-bronzed skin dappled with freckles, the hair lightened to a fuzz of strawberry blond. His cock was high against his belly, laced with veins, its stout head glossed to an obscenely ruddy hue. He stood tall and still, confident in his nudity and pausing with a thought.
    ‘One sec,’ he said. He padded away to turn the key in the rickety stable door, his arse flexing cutely as he walked. The sparseness of hair on his upper body, set against the thick, wiry growth on his legs, made him look like an escaped faun.
    I was dressed for work and briefly at a loss as to where to put my clothes. I was about to unbutton my shirt to hang it on the lathe but Liam was returning already, cock bobbing stiffly. He dropped to his knees between my thighs. Hell, who cared about clothes? I sank deeper into the chair, raising my hips so Liam could remove my underwear. He tossed my knickers onto his clothes then held my thighs apart, gazing down. I squirmed under his attention, feeling more exposedthan if I were naked. The blood in my groin pumped harder, leaving my lips so engorged I fancied Liam might have seen them bloom like a flower in fast-motion.
    He dipped down to flick his tongue over my clit, an isolated, teasing touch. I whimpered, rubbing his shoulders, my hips tilting in search of more. He printed kisses on my inner thighs, nuzzling lightly before he covered my moistness with a wide, generous mouth. Oh, so hot, so wet. He waggled his tongue into my slit, sliding my flesh apart, and lapped at my crease, letting his fluids wash over me. I shut my eyes, mewing while his mouth danced to a languid beat, his tongue flicking and churning.
    For the next few minutes I was gone, my mind blank, my clit throbbing, as I dissolved into Liam’s slippery caress. I might have stayed in