Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan

Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan by Elizabeta Brooke Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan by Elizabeta Brooke Read Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeta Brooke
swaying of her hips as she strolled along and the rubbing of her inner thighs created a tingle that wormed its way upwards through her body like little internal fingers stroking her skin from the inside.  She ached to be out of her clothes, to lie naked and still in the sun.  Then to glide through silk-smooth water, feeling it caress her like a lover.  A lover who would know how to please her. 
      
    She smiled, hugging her shoulders, feeling inordinately strong.  That lover was herself.  She'd do all those things later when she returned to the privacy of her home, but for the moment she was content simply to walk a while longer. 
      
    In the deepest section, where the sunlight was all but blocked out but the thick eucalypt canopy she paused to breathe the fragrance of a gum blossom, fingering the hard nut case that housed the delicate puff of yellow strands.  It was sweet, almost cloying, and she closed her eyes the better to capture the scent.  But as she opened them again, her eye caught a large brownish shape moving in the underbrush a few metres away.
      
    A wombat?  She'd never heard of one in the campus grounds before, but the movement she'd seen had been nothing like the lope of a koala or the scurry of a possum. 
      
    Leaving the track, she ducked under a branch, her high heels spiking into the leaf-litter as she skirted a pair of eucalypts to reach the bracken fern under which the shape had disappeared.  Cautiously she reached forward and lifted a frond, then screamed in shock as a large, ugly feral cat poised to spring at her.  It hissed loudly but Dee was already back-peddling, slamming into the tree and making loud fear-noises as the animal bolted in the opposite direction.
      
    She was winded, panting, but trying to quieten down when Billy appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her shoulders.  She screamed again.
      
    "Dr Williams.  It's me.  Billy," he was saying, staring into her wild eyes, looking almost as frightened as she was.  "Did something hurt you?  Are you all right?"
      
    Her breath came in short gasps and she couldn't think how to answer him.  Her knees were buckling and he was leaning in to support her - then she smelt him, the fresh, golden smell that drifted off his skin and the decision was out of her hands.  She plastered her body against his, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him, letting him taste the fierce emotions swirling inside her.
      
    She'd remember later that there was no hesitation on his part, as though he'd been ready for anything she might do.  But at the time she was only aware of him kissing her back, groaning against her lips, his body - the body she'd imprinted in her brain - imprinting itself against hers.
      
    It was pagan, almost brutal the way she groped at him, without finesse, and she was on fire with it.  Her hands were on his shoulders, then in his hair, cradling his head, holding it so she could plunder his mouth.  And she felt his big hands on her back through the cool silk, pressing her against the length of him.
      
    His erection was hard against her belly and she longed to touch it, to touch and taste every part of him.  She was delirious with greed, wanting all of him now, but not wanting to move away from the mouth that was giving her so much pleasure.
      
    And yet she did.  She pulled back and leant against the tree, panting, her hands on his chest, her eyes meeting the bewilderment in his.  "Kiss me, Billy," she said.  "Kiss me and touch me the way you've been wanting to."
      
    He shook his head slightly, seeming to come out of it, but Dee merely grabbed handfuls of his shirt and tugged.  "Anything you want.  Everything you've desired," she promised, her voice husky with her own needs.  His gaze moved to her lips and so she licked them provocatively.  But it was her hair he touched first, his eyes going wide with wonder, then closing in a sort of primitive ecstasy as the long strands slid through

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