Thunder In Her Body by C. B. Stanton Read Free Book Online Page A

the breath was meant to flow downward and pool in a special receptacle that was already a quivering, magmatic caldron.
     
    They moved slowly, no longer using long steps; making sure their bodies touched in every possible place.  At times it appeared that they were in suspended motion, only their feet inched a bit back and forth.  He tried to release her right hand from its very proper hold, so he could wrap both arms around her body, but she wouldn’t let it go.  She held tightly to it.  She read his intent.  So he intertwined his fingers into hers and squeezed them, rubbing his palm suggestively on hers.  It was best that the world not know that they both wanted to make love on this dance floor.  For if he held her like he wanted, she knew instinctively that she would drape her arms around his neck, and they would be discovered.  After all, until a few hours ago, they had been strangers. On that dance floor, she could not unleash the truth of what she was feeling.  She had to maintain some semblance of external dignity, and try to appear the lady she was, or was supposed to be, to those onlookers - but it was hard.
     
    Blaze drew in several long breaths letting her know that he was feeling her.  She nestled herself up under his chin and, almost imperceptible to any watching eye, she pressed her pelvis against his and moved it in a sensuous, slow, slow, slow roll.  Abruptly, she stopped and pulled slightly away from him.  He looked startled.  What in the hell am I doing? she questioned herself.  Then she answered herself, I want this; I want him.  She was glad that she had chosen to wear the loose, flowing over-blouse because she resumed her purposeful undulations, hidden from prying eyes.  He drew in a sharp, quick breath – an audible gasp, and dug his fingers into the small of her back,  responding immediately by exerting the same pressure on her pelvic area as she pressed on his, giving her his pelvic pallet on which to draw her invisible designs.  And they rolled slowly, slowly together.  In their shared movements was an acknowledgement of mutual, hot, controlled passion.  It took only a single step for him to reposition her off-center and against his thigh.  There was that recognized rise below his belt buckle, laying, alive on one thigh.  It tried to move with a life of its own but the tautness of the blue jeans held it in place.  Lynette quivered a little and paid close attention to it. With long strides, Blaze pushed his leg hard between her legs.  Not only did she rotate her pelvis, she went up on her toe so that the bone of her pubis could rub up and then down on this hardened spot.  She rubbed her stomach against the rise.  It felt so good.  There was not one doubt that he liked what she was doing.  He was slowly massaging her waistline, digging his fingers in at times as her movement heightened his ardor.  From her face to her thighs, everything that was happening felt so good.  Thanks to the almost non-existent light in some corners of the dance floor, no one could tell the heat – the passion – that was flowing between these two.  Only they knew what they were doing to each other, and it was excruciatingly intense.  Beads of moisture appeared on his face as he struggled to maintain himself.  Her breaths were deep and shaky as she exhaled, and the exhalation made her stomach vibrate.  He parted his lips and let out a long, shaky, whispered sigh. On the small of her back his open hand clinched into a tight fist and pressed downward to the base of her spinal column, then opened wide again and tilted that part of her body up toward his.  His hand began to shake as he clawed at her body protected by the linen waistband of her slacks.  He wanted to let his hand follow the descending slope of her full, round buttocks.  He wanted to grab, squeeze, molest the flesh he knew was covered but that would be too much.  It was too early for that; it wasn’t time yet.  But given the