Desire for Ravishment: Taboo Erotica E-Book

Krissy Lewis

• Herausgeber: Taboo Pulp Press
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

Excerpt:

She shivered again and sat on the mossy bank. The warm wetness of the woodland ground dampened her panties and made her full, ripe ass tingle. The sensation grew for a moment and became a throb deep inside her virginal cunt and she wondered for a fleeting moment of horror whether it was the ground making her feel that throb or whether it was the memory of Bo Jarvis' attack.
She twisted suddenly as if to wrench herself from the notion of having derived any kind of pleasure from a rape attempt and her skirt slid along firm, unused thighs to reveal the triangle of blue nylon cupping her virginal cuntlips. She felt a moment of quickening in her chest and took a deep breath, causing her full, succulent tits to thrust against the confining cups of her bra.
Shame blazed through her momentarily and made a line of sweat bead her sensuous upper lip. Her nipples were spiked and swollen. She knew it. She could feel them rub against her bra.
God! she cried inwardly, rejecting the horrible thought again.

Leseprobe

Desire for Ravishment

Krissy Lewis

Copyright © 2017

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER ONE

Lydia Torell moved out of the warm Florida sun under the shade of a live oak that was draped with a thick spray of Spanish moss and couldn't help shivering despite the humid warmth. Across the crystal water, flat and slow, of the Floral River in front of her, a great blue heron stalked for lunch with awkward grace.

She shivered again and sat on the mossy bank. The warm wetness of the woodland ground dampened her panties and made her full, ripe ass tingle. The sensation grew for a moment and became a throb deep inside her virginal cunt and she wondered for a fleeting moment of horror whether it was the ground making her feel that throb or whether it was the memory of Bo Jarvis' attack.

She twisted suddenly as if to wrench herself from the notion of having derived any kind of pleasure from a rape attempt and her skirt slid along firm, unused thighs to reveal the triangle of blue nylon cupping her virginal cuntlips. She felt a moment of quickening in her chest and took a deep breath, causing her full, succulent tits to thrust against the confining cups of her bra.

Shame blazed through her momentarily and made a line of sweat bead her sensuous upper lip. Her nipples were spiked and swollen. She knew it. She could feel them rub against her bra.

God! she cried inwardly, rejecting the horrible thought again.

As if to taunt the rest of her, one corner of her mind went back to the dark building, put her in it among the exposed blocks and studs and made the night sounds of insects and frogs and strange birds come to her very clearly. There was the scrape of boot over cement rubble again, the terrorized whirl and startled cry, then the dark shape of Bo Jarvis looming up behind her.