A Wanton's Thief by Titania Ladley Page A

first, her passage tightened against the invasion. But as he gradually entered her, the silky texture of his rod dragged over her clitoris. A slow burn of damp ecstasy erupted in her core. She felt herself go wetter, she coated him with the elixir he could effortlessly draw from her cunt.
    Down she went, her passage stretching, taking all of him in, inch by thick inch. Her system jumped with excitement when she felt the tip of him touch a sensitive spot deep inside her. It made waves of bliss ripple out to her fingers and toes.
    “Ah…” Her legs came around him and clamped at his buttocks. She clung to his neck, starving for a taste of him. So she took. Salena stole the very breath from him. He opened his mouth and took her in, just as she had taken him into her depths. He groaned into her mouth, his tongue dancing silk-wet around hers. He tasted of the tart wine they’d sipped on as they’d traveled earlier in the morning. She drank of him, now intoxicated by his flavor and the sword he had buried into her core.
    “Make me feel it again—please.” Desperate now for release, she didn’t care that she begged a thief for his prized sword or a scoundrel for his talented touch. She just wanted to attain that delicious sensation. There was no other way to describe it. No way to point out that she would regret it as soon as she got what she craved. Just as thirst could drive one to drink of obviously tainted water, she had no choice but to fulfill a maddening drive within her.
    He rocked his hips, his arms tightening around her waist. The gait of the horse beneath them further jarred his movements. It made her scream out her pleasure, and in response, Falcon slammed her down upon his erection so that she was completely impaled by him. They cried out in unison. That secret spot deep inside her became stimulated once again. The weight of her body swallowing him up, combined with the jerky movements of the stallion’s pace and Falcon’s thrusts, all served to lift her effortlessly to the gates of heaven. Stars erupted behind her closed lids. A flutter and whoosh of wet-hot pleasure barreled through her system. She moaned in unison with Falcon when the surge overtook her to the point of delicious madness.
    “It’s—oh! I’m feeling it… again ,” she whimpered.
    “Ah, Salena…” He clutched her to his chest. One hand went down to press against her ass so that he could grind her closer to draw out the last wave of his own pleasure. He panted, raining kisses over her mouth, her neck, her tingling breasts. “You don’t know what you’ve started, do you?”
    Her eyelids came open slow, almost painfully. Reality catapulted into her stomach with vengeful accuracy. That wicked, irresistible ecstasy ebbed, and in its place came a swift rush of remorse and shame. Though she remained joined to him, the sensation still pleasurable on a lesser level, she suddenly wanted to rip herself from his large manhood and run deep into the woods.
    “Started?” she echoed. “No…no.” Salena lifted herself from him, almost unseating them both. He steadied her, a wary look in his eyes. “‘Tis over, bandit. No more. This can’t…oh, God help me. I can’t continue with this madness. I demand that you return me to my brother and my home this instant!”
    She righted her clothing and managed to twist around so that her back was to him—a necessary move when the mortification at what she’d just done overtook her. The tenderness between her legs served a constant reminder of her harlot’s heart, her shattered self-control. Degradation now engulfed her. It became edged by the anger that simmered within her breast. And this ire that rushed through her system seemed more directed at herself than at her captor.
    How was it that she’d gone from a coveted innocent—with the exception of the one encounter with Thane—to a weak wanton in such a short time?
    His movements yanked her from the self-deprecating thoughts. He adjusted his