Hidden Passions, Vol 2

by Stephanie Burke

  I dug my nails into my palms, I threw my head back on the furs, and opened my mouth to scream, but only gasps emerged as this pleasure stole my breath away. I had to do something, I had to try and release the tension that now filled me, that slammed my hips into the furs and thrust them towards the source of my ecstasy, the steady stream of hot oil.

  Then the oil was gone, replaced by those wondrously skillful fingers that continued to tease and torment.

  The petals of my womanhood were delicately massaged until I could feel my own juices mingling with the oil. My aching clitoris was gently fondled and tenderly anointed directly with more of this heated oil. Strong fingers parted me and my inner walls were also treated with this hot slippery substance.

  My keening wails filled the room as I struggled to open my thighs wider, to give them more room to work, to increase the feelings running rampant through my body. I felt a wave of glorious release approaching, threatening to send me from the high plateau I had ascended to and throw me into the abyss of my every erotic fantasy, but again, they ceased.

  Once again I was lifted into strong, masculine arms, my body still trembling in denied release, and carried into another chamber.

  This room was different than the others. I struggled to lift my head to see what was happening now, to see what they would do to me next.

  There were scented and primitive looking candles circling the stone walls and several different animal skins, leopard and jaguar, piled high on a massive pedestal of an altar.

  I was entranced by the sight, as well as the smell of the brightly colored flower petals strewn across the furs and the rough stone floor.

  In the background, hidden drummers pounded out a primitive, almost hypnotic, beat.

  I could feel my blood pound in harmony with its steady addictive cadence.

  Gently, I was laid upon the sinfully prepared pedestal and four heavily oiled, gloriously naked, muscular warriors strode forth, each taking position at each corner of the enormous altar.

  At some unspoken signal, they each took a limb and began to nip and lick at my oversensitive fingers and toes, their wondrous tongues exposing me to a pleasure that I had never experienced before.

  I moaned and struggled to retain some small hold on my sanity, for their rough licking tongues and hot sucking mouths were driving me insane with passion. I jerked in surprise as their greedy mouths continued inward, sliding over trembling nerve endings and heading towards the core of my body.

  “What is happening?” I managed to gasp out between panting breaths, my head whipping from side to side on the soft furs.

  “They are preparing you for my arrival,” a deep voice rasped.

  I managed to turn my head towards the sound and saw the warrior prince standing there, observing me.

  So lost in the pleasurable sensations the others wrought within my body, I scarcely noticed him entering the room. I could only moan in response as the combination the warriors’ touch and deep voice of the prince evoked my darkest desires.

  Silently, the warriors released me and melted into the background. I hardly noticed their leaving, so enraptured was I with the masculine animal approaching me slowly, like a hunter stalking his prey.

  Chanting under his breath, the prince took a step towards me and slowly pulled his plain linen loincloth from his body.

  Intricate designs were painted on his massive chest, red swirls and arcs that resembled several tribal markings I had been privileged to see in my studies. But these were different, more primitive. They seemed to radiate with a power of their own.

  As he took another step towards me, I saw the flash of what appeared to be a small black spear tattoo shimmering with its heavy application of oil on his inner thigh, pointing the way to his heavily oiled manhood.

  At the dark prince watched me, his great cock began to harden. It raised up beyond his navel, the head turning a deep shade of red as it thickened.

  He gave me a wicked grin, making a dimple pop in his left cheek.

  Climbing onto the top of the platform at my head and rising to his knees, he took his impressive masculinity in hand and began to stroke it slowly, caressing it with the slippery oil coating his body. It glistened and all but glowed in the candlelight.

  Moaning softly, he dropped his free hand to cup his massive balls, rolling and tugging them gently before he bent his large body above my head.

  “The gods decree that we mate,” he purred. “Submit yourself to my pleasure and together let us satisfy the cravings of our bodies.”

  With that, like some large jungle cat, he crawled down my body, gifting me with the sizzling smooth glide of his heated skin against mine, his hot cock sliding across my face and centering near my parted lips as he positioned himself between my wide-spread legs.

  He inhaled deeply of my woman’s scent then lowered his head slowly to nibble at my already engorged labia.

  “Good,” he murmured against my hot flesh, his tongue seeking gently. “They have prepared you well.”

  My body arched off of the altar as he gripped my hips with his large hands and thrust his tongue as far as he could, deep inside my body.

  Instinct took over as my body thrashed under the onslaught of his tongue. Almost mindless with need, I took his heavily oiled cock into my mouth as drew on it for all I was worth. I rolled the head around with my tongue, pressing him gently to the roof of my mouth before easing back far enough to thrust the tip of my tongue into the slit on its head. I needed to return this pleasure in order to complete mine.

  He groaned loudly, the vibrations making my flesh tremble, as he greedily yet gently pumped my mouth. He eagerly returned the favor by using his rough fingers to expose my clit and take the whole pearl of it into his hot, oh so burning hot, mouth. Almost immediately, I was lost in a powerful climax as I relished the feel and taste of him and struggled not to nip him in my release.

  I could feel him lapping my juices and still it was not enough. I thrust my hips up harder, demanding more, wanting to prolong this long awaited climax.

  Suddenly he pulled away, his cock leaving my mouth with a sharp popping sound as he quickly turned.

  I whimpered in disappointment. I had just began to taste the salty-sweet drops of his pre-come on my tongue when he pulled my treat away. But I had nothing to fear. Almost as soon as he spread my thighs wider for his slippery hips, he thrust his rock-hard cock into my still-quivering body.

  “Oh!” I think I shrieked it! But then I was whimpering as his hardness stretched and filled me to unbelievably accommodate his monster cock.

  The drums pounded faster as he began a slow deep rhythm, maintaining pace with our straining bodies as we groaned and slammed together on the furs.

  I clutched handfuls of his velvety hair as he lifted and latched onto first one then the other straining nipple, chewing them gently and licking away the sharp stabs of pain that only served to highlight my passion.

  The room spun as he began to thrust into me like some sex-starved wild animal, picking up speed and causing my muscles to tighten around him.

  I felt my inner muscles clenching and tightening around his manroot, quivering in preparation for another, more significant, mind-blowing climax.

  I knew he would never have fit into me had we both not been well oiled and aroused to the point of insanity as I felt his cock swell even further.

  He released my nipple with a loud groan as he tossed back his head, sending a dark waterfall of silky hair tumbling over his shoulders, and shouted in some savage language.

  I felt his manhood swell even more inside me and felt his balls draw up tightly to the base of his cock as they slapped against me.

  His teeth clenched, his lips pulling away from them as he sucked in a deep breath, his sweat-drenched body quaking as he began to lose his rhythm.

  Suddenly he froze for what seemed to be an eternity, and a harsh groan rumbled from deep within his chest.

  His hips slammed uncontrollably into me, again and again as I
felt the monster within me explode.

  The sight and sound of his climax caused my own release to rip through my body, sending fireworks shooting through my mind. My body arched up sharply, my muscles freezing as my inner walls began to milk his cock. The room spun as a scream exploded from my throat with each orgasmic spasm. Then slowly, I floated down from my orgasmic high, my muscles easing, causing me to gently drop back into the furs that seemed to reach up and accept me, leaving me senseless and drained. As he settled his big warm body gently atop of mine, I heard the drums finally cease and calm descended upon the room.

  “Sleep now,” his deep voice, hoarse and winded, crooned gently to me. “Sleep now, content that you have fulfilled your part,” he whispered, and ran soothing hands over my quaking body, settling his muscular bulk comfortably against me as he rolled off to his side.

  I wearily closed my eyes and gave myself up to the comfort of his arms and the deep drugging sleep that seemed to overcome me.

  When I next awoke, members of my party surrounded me, a relieved circle that radiated concern.

  It seemed that I was discovered dressed and unconscious a few feet from our base camp.

  They all assumed that I had been overcome by the heat, and rushed me back to my tent with instructions to rest and recover before we continued on with our trek.

  I never told them what had happened to me; it was none of their affair and something I just couldn’t share.

  But unknown to them, I now sported a small red-brown tattoo of a spear on my inner thigh.

  I discovered it while resting alone in my tent with my memories of my handsome warrior.

  Had I dreamed the whole thing up?

  No, the tattoo was proof.

  I smiled as I ran my finger over the raised edge of it, tingling at the memory, and cherishing the small memento from my warrior prince.

  Cue Stick

  For Lori

  “Eight ball in the side pocket.”

  I lined up my shot, took careful aim, and grinned at the feel of the smooth, hard wood sliding through my fingers.

  “That’s impossible,” Craig said, pointing to the round black ball blocked from the pocket by a brightly colored red ball. “There is no way you can sink that.”

  “What do I get if I do?” I asked, a sudden gleam coming into my eyes.

  “The same thing you get if you miss,” he softly murmured as he sauntered around behind me and whispered into my ear.

  “Why, Mr. White Fox,” I said in feigned surprise. “Whatever are you suggesting?”

  “Only what you have been hinting at since you followed me in here, little girl,” he said as he ran one rough finger across the soft skin of my shoulder.

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” I replied, all prim and proper. “I just came in here for a little recreational sport.”

  “Bar’s closed, little girl. There is only one reason for you to be in here alone with me now. You’re in heat and looking for some action.”

  His black eyes bored into mine, and for a moment, I felt a delicious fear shoot through my veins. But instead of giving any emotions away, I stood up from my bent over position and examined the man I had known and wanted for the past few months.

  Craig White Fox had the longest, silkiest hair I had ever seen. It hung in soft waves to his waist, mesmerizing to the eyes as it swayed with his every step. Now that glorious mane of hair was pulled back into a tail at his nape, but its beauty still shone through.

  His classic Native American features glorified his Crow ancestry—the high chiseled cheekbones and the strong granite chin. Long charcoal-gray eyelashes framed eyes stunning in their intensity. And the body was classic Greek god.

  Craig was about six-foot-three and as solid as the Rocky Mountains. His shoulders were a broad expanse that seemed to blot out the feeble light of the bar as he stood over me. His simple white T-shirt was tucked into a pair of thigh-hugging black jeans, exposing the hard muscles there while gently cupping his tight, firm ass. Above his slender waist, I could count each of the washboard muscles in his stomach through that blessedly tight shirt.

  “You obviously like what you see, baby cakes,” I replied. “You’re not kicking me out.”

  “Make your shot, little girl,” he said, backing up a bit. But I saw the fire of desire leap into his eyes a moment before he could bank it. “Then leave. It’s much too dangerous in here for you.”

  “I love danger,” I sneered as I again bent over the green felt-covered table. “I can handle anything you dish out.”

  He sucked in a deep breath as I leaned far over the table to the point where my nose almost touched the felt. I knew the tiny little skirt I wore had just eased up high enough to expose my skimpy white thong, the one that had straps like spaghetti and an intriguing heart-shaped buckle at the back.

  “But if you are afraid…”

  “I can handle anything you can dish out, little girl,” he snapped as he stalked around the table to face me. His movements had gotten a bit stiff and I knew I was affecting him by the sudden bulge beneath his jeans.

  “Really?” I drawled as I slid the cue stick through my fingers a few times. I raised my upper body a bit so the sleeveless shell I wore gapped open and gave him a peek of my unfettered breasts. “Somehow I doubt that.”

  He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His gaze was glued to the front of my shirt.

  “So what do I get if I sink this puppy?” I purred, my eyes on the growing bulge between his legs and not at all on the ball of contention.

  “The satisfaction of coming out on top?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from me, suddenly finding the table a lot more interesting.

  “Coming on top?” I asked, a wicked grin on my lips. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Little girl…” he growled in warning.

  “Not so little,” I responded, shifting my weight, letting my breasts brush against the long hard stick. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have started this game with me.”

  He grunted in reply and leaned one hip against the table, watching me.

  “You know what I want?” he asked, his voice getting deeper, huskier.

  “Do you know what I need?” I countered, slowly licking my suddenly dry lips.

  “I know what you need, baby,” he replied. “But are you going to put up or are you just a little tease?”

  Grinning up at him, I dropped the cue stick on the table and reached under my short denim skirt. With a shift and a tug, my skimpy thong fell to the floor and I stepped out of them. I reached down, picked up the bit of lace and silk and placed it on the table, the white color contrasting sharply against the green felt. I looked up at him, defiance in my gaze.

  “I guess you’re serious,” he breathed as he looked at that tiny scrap of cloth.

  “Damn straight,” I said, eyes gleaming with anticipation as I gauged his reaction.

  “I guess I had better put up or shut up then,” he said before he whipped his shirt over his head and let it fall to the table. “I can’t exactly pull off my undies, so I guess that this will do.”

  “Very nice,” I choked out as I stared at his broad hairless chest. I clenched my hands into fists, fighting the urge to forget the game and start stroking all of the exposed bronze flesh. My eyes traveled the breadth of it, centering on the thin trail of dark hair starting below his navel and disappearing into the waistband of his low-slung jeans.

  “Make your shot,” he purred as he slowly began to stalk around the table.

  Dragging my attention back to the game, I realigned up my shot. “Eight ball in the side pocket,” I said as I prayed I would sink this one.

  I drew back my stick and shuddered at the feel of the smooth wood gliding between my fingers. Would he feel just as smooth, just as hard, with a supple giving feel? Would he moan and shudder if I…

  “What are you doing?” I asked as I felt his hands on my bare bottom.

  “Playing for keeps?” he replied as his work-roughened hands caressed an
d stroked my bottom.

  I tried to stand, but one large hand pressed down on my back, holding me in place.

  “Concentrate on your shot, little girl,” he urged as the fingers of his other hand began to tiptoe down the crease of my bottom.

  I jumped a little at his caress, but gave in to the delicious sensations now filling me. With a small shudder, I bent over a little more and spread my legs a bit, granting him easier access to all of my secrets. I hid a smile as he groaned in reaction.

  “Eight ball,” I sighed. “Eight ball in the pocket.”

  I felt him lean over me, pressing the rough material of his jeans against the backs of my thighs as his hand reached around and continued this journey of discovery.

  The hard feel of his jeans excited me, thrilled me, and aroused me as much as the feeling of my bottom pressed against his hardness. His fingers gently slid down to my nether lips, outlining my heat, making me writhe and whimper, wanting more.

  “In the pocket, little girl,” he purred against my ear, and he enveloped my frame with his considerably bigger one. As he slid forward, his long tail of hair fell down over his shoulder to land softly against my bare skin. It draped, a slick silken curtain, across my tense arm and onto the table. The sight mesmerized me.

  I bit my lip to stop a ringing cry of pleasure as his finger began to lightly circle my clitoris, barely touching it.

  “You don’t play fair,” I panted as my arms began to tremble.

  “I play for keeps,” he breathed in my ear before he slammed two fingers deep inside my clasping hot wetness.

  “Craig,” I cried as my body began to tremble out of my control.

  “Make the shot,” he urged as his other hand slid from my ass to cup my full breast in his palm.

  My nipple exploded into his palm as he gently circled it. He seemed to know what he was doing, dragging the slippery material of my shell across my turgid flesh, teasing me and making me shiver with need.

  Closing my eyes, I fought the overwhelming need to give in to the pleasure, to drop the cue and let his hardness fill the void within me. But would that be any fun? It would be too easy, and if there is one thing I’m not, it’s easy.