His lips found each mork upon her lips, upon her throat and ears even as his hands hitched up her wet and clinging lingerie. Everything in her stomach quivered now, her thighs ached and her body was responding in ways with sensations she had never even begun to feel before. 'This was Azazeal,' she thought. She had grown up with him as a friend, a teacher and someone whom she genuinely liked, and now she had to admit to herself even in the heightened rush that was blowing its way through her mind, she liked what this was...whatever it was.
She needn't have asked him what to do. Whether a person is Human or Fae, mattered not at all, for unless trained otherwise, the body would always answer when it was called in the proper fashion. Azazeal, undoubtedly knew this language and spoke it with fluent proficiency. With tremblign fingers she found the small opening of his shirt near his throat and felt the warmth of skin, even as kisses rained down upon her instead of the downpour now. Her body had been starved for this, and knew by instinct what the need was.
Everywhere his fingers touched bare skin upon her thigh, then on her bared rump burned and tingled. She could not resist her hips wanting to move and undulate of their own accord toward Azazeal. Something at her core pleaded for more and with a smile against her lips he complied. Closer to the stable and so very solid stone altar they moved. Jocelyn wanted to lie down upon it, she wanted him to lie close to her and hold her till this feeling did whatever it was going to do or passed altogheter, but the want of it to never stop made her wimper in protest. She felt a shudder around them. Was it what was going on between them? Jocelyn de Rochefort had no idea, but to her mind it was a sign, it was the impetus that reassured her that she was doing the right thing - at least as far as she was concerned. Surely no one who had treated her so well over these years would do anything to harm her. Certainly this was not harmful, even as heady and exciting as it was. How could anything so wondrous be wrong? Azazeal kissed her again, parting his lips and hers, his tongue entering her mouth to pursue hers. Her eyes fluttered open again at the shock but quickly the sensations of this and his hands hiking up the other side of her nightdress caused her to press a little closer to him still. (cont)
no subject
She needn't have asked him what to do. Whether a person is Human or Fae, mattered not at all, for unless trained otherwise, the body would always answer when it was called in the proper fashion. Azazeal, undoubtedly knew this language and spoke it with fluent proficiency. With tremblign fingers she found the small opening of his shirt near his throat and felt the warmth of skin, even as kisses rained down upon her instead of the downpour now. Her body had been starved for this, and knew by instinct what the need was.
Everywhere his fingers touched bare skin upon her thigh, then on her bared rump burned and tingled. She could not resist her hips wanting to move and undulate of their own accord toward Azazeal. Something at her core pleaded for more and with a smile against her lips he complied. Closer to the stable and so very solid stone altar they moved. Jocelyn wanted to lie down upon it, she wanted him to lie close to her and hold her till this feeling did whatever it was going to do or passed altogheter, but the want of it to never stop made her wimper in protest. She felt a shudder around them. Was it what was going on between them? Jocelyn de Rochefort had no idea, but to her mind it was a sign, it was the impetus that reassured her that she was doing the right thing - at least as far as she was concerned. Surely no one who had treated her so well over these years would do anything to harm her. Certainly this was not harmful, even as heady and exciting as it was. How could anything so wondrous be wrong? Azazeal kissed her again, parting his lips and hers, his tongue entering her mouth to pursue hers. Her eyes fluttered open again at the shock but quickly the sensations of this and his hands hiking up the other side of her nightdress caused her to press a little closer to him still. (cont)