Happy Wednesday, and thanks again to the lovely Angelica Dawson for organizing the MidWeekTeases 🙂
This week’s tease comes from my erotic ménage HIGH-RISK FEVER.
“How are you feeling?” Anne asked.
Mica didn’t reply. Jaw tight, he leaned against the banister and looked down. The wood creaked from his weight, but he kept his gaze fixed to the floor.
He shook his head, pushed himself from the banister with another creak, and headed to the dark kitchen.
“Are you cold?” She kicked her shoes off and removed the socks glued to her feet. Wet feet sticking to the hardwood floor, she followed him. “Do you want to drink something warm?”
The kitchen looked as clean as it had yesterday, and no particular smells lingered. Not much had happened in her absence. The power hadn’t even returned. How long since this ordeal started—two, three days?
She found matches and lit a candle on a shelf. In the next instant, a warm, yellowish glow bathed the room as if awakening it from a year-long hibernation. Mica stood in the farthest corner with his back against a cupboard, arms crossed.
He blinked and looked down, chest heaving underneath the pullover.
“I’ll put the kettle on.” She turned her back to him and filled the old brass kettle with mineral water from a bottle. “Make us some tea. Or coffee, if you want.”
Apart from a low whistle from the gas stove, heavy silence reigned in the room. Unwilling to face his bad mood, she clenched her hands and stared at her shadow on the wall while waiting for the water to boil.
His hoarse voice sounded behind her. “Anne?”
“I have a son.”
What? She pivoted.
Mica glanced up and uncrossed his arms. His black diamonds fixed on her, shimmering in the dancing candlelight.
She didn’t know what to say.
After a short pause, he lifted his hands. “What? You surprised?”
“Why? ’Cause I’m a freak?”
“’Cause you’re what?”
“A freak,” he spat, venomous. “A misfit. I like both girls and guys. That’s sick, right?”
Her chest tightened as much from his spite as his obvious pain. “W-why are you saying that?”
He shrugged. “That’s what she say. I’m a freak of nature, so I can’t see him. Could hurt him, you know.”
“What?” She couldn’t believe his words. “What do you mean, you can’t see him?”
“His mamá don’t let me.”
“No. She decide.”
“Fathers have rights.”
“Nooo, you wrong. I wait for court ruling. In meantime, she refuse I be with him. She do what she want.”
Her throat choked. “But that’s not fair.”
“You should have the same right to—”
He shook his head.
“I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracked. “How long has this been going on?”
“Two years, soon.”
“And how old is he?”
“Four. I miss half his life.” He bit his lip before looking sideways, eyes watering, his breath hitching.
She moved forward, reaching out. He glanced up and pushed himself from the cupboard, meeting her halfway with open arms. Their bodies collided, molding to each other. She slid her arms around his neck as he wrapped his strong ones around her waist, pressing her against him.
Filling with warmth, she snuggled into his neck and breathed in. His long, wet hair enveloped her and the scent of lavender emanating from his warm skin reminded her of Caroline’s bathroom and the precious minutes she’d bathed baby Désirée last night.
“What’s his name?”
He sucked in a breath, chest pushing against her breasts.
“Ennio.” With a gasp, he squeezed her so tight she almost winced from pain, before moving strong hands to her butt and lifting her in the air.
Heat rushed to her pussy as her legs wrapped around his hips, and she clutched his neck harder, wanting to never let go. For a second, the world spun backward as Mica carried her to the counter beside the stove and sat her on the flat surface, pressing his crotch into her inner thighs.
As if on cue, they began to fondle each other. While he slid his hands beneath her shirt, stroking up to her bra and finding her sensitive breasts, she caressed the back of his neck and entwined her fingers in the long strands of his hair, pulling him toward her. His hungry groping made her squirm with lust.
Mewing, she kissed the soft skin of his throat, trailed her wet tongue to his sexy chin, and bit him. She wanted to move up to his parted lips and nibble at their flesh, seek the moistness of his mouth, and taste his tongue.
“No.” He retreated while pushing her gently, but firmly onto her back.
Lying on the cold counter, she kept her head up to gaze at Mica’s gorgeous, tanned features and shiny black eyes. A thin trail of wetness glided down his cheeks, reflecting the low candlelight beside him.
Holding her gaze, he lifted her shirt and reached behind her back to unsnap the white bra, baring her full breasts to him. Overwhelmed by the desire to be consumed, she closed her eyes and mewed as both hard nipples protruded in the air, begging to be sucked.
He met her demand, leaning forward with a moan, cock stiffening against her throbbing pussy, and placed his hot, wet tongue on the tip of a sensitive nipple before trailing around the bud. A wave of sizzling delight washed over her, numbing her deliciously. She arched her back to offer him the entire breast.
He snapped up and turned his head.
A soft bubbling noise rose next to them.
Bah, the boiling water could wait.
“What the fuck!” a male voice shouted from the door, sending a bolt of lightning through her limbs.
Copyright (c) 2014 Lea Bronsen
Two young and indecently handsome bicyclists visit a village in the French Alps during the summer holidays. Forced by a raging storm to spend the night at the local bed & breakfast, they invade the quiet lives of hostess Anne and her husband, Brian.
A power outage plunges the foursome into darkness, encouraging new liaisons to form, life-long secrets to be unveiled, and steamy lessons to be learned. But once the storm moves on, can the four find a balance and resume their normal lives?
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