Fling [antikvár]

Chapter OneHe was Dávid. Michelangelo's brilliant masterpiece. His sculptured form was breathtaking - a geometrically per-fect network of muscle. And then he moved. And she matched his motion. He was clearly not a stone-cold image of masculine perfection fixed upon a pedestal of immortality.Faster.Harder.Use control.Ahhh . . . good. Now tighten.Squeeze.Tighter.Release.Now tighten again.Kelly Nelson heard his words. Short sharp orders. Then gentle and pleased. She closed her eyes and tried even harder to satisfy him. Pelvis in. Pelvis out. She held it for that extra beat, and then smiled slightly at her control. Their hips moved in exacting pursuit. Her stomach was nearly concave and beads of perspiration ran down her back from the violent exercise.She wanted to feel his weight above her. She wanted to feel him move in passión, cry out, insatiable. Kelly drew her thighs together into a tight squeeze; he would be far and away the greatest lay ever conjured by her wayward imagination. The fact that her marriage was so good felt like a mixed blessing - she had a maddening conscience, or maybe it was just a yellow streak, the final twist of the wedding knot. It was always fantasy and no action.Kelly hummed along with the song that was vibrating