The Crest of Snow and Copper – XVIII

** Warning *** Mature content ahead *** My “sort of” erotic piece ***
I’ll be posting this short story in a few installments, weekly. Woukd love to have your feedback on it, pretty please?
Part 18:

Sweat made their skins glisten in the candlelight as their dance continued; silent apart muted sighs and breaths. He loved every time she began shaking her head sideways, as if losing a battle against herself. She leaned up, grabbing his neck as her mouth rushed to his kiss. Ginger red and raven black locks now mingled as the rest of their bodies were. His hand cupping her rear end was the only thing that prevented her from falling and he squeezed each buttock gently as new sensations unmasked themselves in that different position. The man sighed against her lips, which she nibbled on frantically, after having planted soft kissed on his closed eyes, suckling on his earlobes and softly biting along his jaw line and chin.

She was wild, as if she had finally found a freedom she had long awaited for. Every few moments, their eyes met before closing again to taste the pleasure with their minds. Every time they caught each other’s gaze, it only added to the fire blazing in on their insides. Even so, they locked eyes on eyes, widened orbs speaking what they lacked in words.

Silently agreeing to a want for change, both bodies moved in their own secret dance against one another, adjusting to a new stance. Both regretted the seconds their intimate contact was ceased, only to melt into an ocean of sensation as they were once again joined.

Her back slid down his chest and abdomen as she once more received him in her. Strong masculine hands cupped her breasts, barely able to contain the plump roundness, as she pressed herself against his torso. Their feet rested close to each other’s, toes toying with their nearest counterpart. The man giggled, which seemed a bit odd and out of character for him, before gently biting the spot where her neck and shoulder met. That was the moment she found out he was ticklish. Resting her head on his solid muscular shoulder, she let out a sigh of contentment as they began moving once more. It was the only audible proof of yearning she could allow herself to manifest, fearing that, with sound, she would break the spell they were weaving.

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