Love Kaleidoscope: An Amorous Ensemble

Prologue

His hands traveled over every inch of my body leaving butterflies in my stomach, you know that sparkling sensation that sends pleasure to your brain in an instant? The type that makes you drip juicy milk out of your honey pot? That is how it felt, igniting skin, and his soft lips planted kisses on my hair, on my eyelids, on my nose, on my mouth, on my breast, on my n*ppl*s, caressing them, leaving gentle sucks and waxing the tip of his tongue gently on them, then down to my belly, underneath my jaw, behind my ears, and down and down he went, his lips creating a moist trail across my body. There's a hunger to his touch, a ferocity to his kisses like he's desperate to feast on and claim me.

Every touch, every kiss, every bite, every s*ck, is an act in the private symphony that he's directing. His hands maneuver me expertly, deftly, prompting me to follow. Every stroke of skin, every light brush of his lips is a deliberate attempt to unravel me. And it's working.

In one fluid motion, he tugs his shirt over his head, revealing rock-hard abs, a ripped chest, and perfectly sculpted, yet surprisingly tender, arms that caused me to drop some more. His muscles ripple as he moves, like waves undulating under his perfect skin. I let my hands travel across his neck, his face, his chest, his stomach, his arms, and his back. I dig my fingers into his back, feeling more turned on by how hard the muscles plating his back are. I push my fingers into his hair, enjoying how soft they feel under the pressure of my finger pads. How can one man be so beautiful, soft and tender? I wonder to myself, but I know the answer to the question. It's because he's Alan Dirkman.

I lean into him, reducing the inches between our naked skin, savoring the feel of his sweat-slicked body against mine, his scent, and his warm breath on my neck. In the dark, his eyes blaze like pinpricks of blue light, and I feel myself falling into them, eyes that seem deeper than any well, any pool, any lake,any ocean.

He plants kisses under my chin, on my throat, and slowly, torturously, begins to make his way down between my breasts, my navel again, the hair between my legs ... Ooooh.

He flicks his tongue over my lips and a shudder ripples through me. His expert tongue explores me, kissing, licking, biting, nibbling, sucking, each motion a glorious slice of heaven high above the unknown. I arch my back, intentionally and slowly raising my hips to meet his tongue without him suspecting his gusts has landed me in cloud nine, his f*ck*ng glorious tongue. I feel his grin against my vulva, and it's the thing that undoes me. I feel myself unraveling, seismic waves of pleasure rippling through me all at once, a sensation I never want to end. It's his name that escapes my lips as I jerk my thighs and off my juice overflows from its bowel, guess that's what you call c*m. It poured all over his mouth, a silent prayer, a dark secret. Goosebumps erupt all over my skin, and a brief nothingness blossoms in my mind as my entire essence seems to stretch in every direction.

After what seemed like an eternity, I came back into my body. And in the dark, I see that he's grinning. I must look like a mess for him to find this funny. Soundlessly, he pulls himself over me, and he kisses me, forcing me to taste my delicious wetness.

Quick as an eel, he flips me over, and I'm lying face flat on my stomach. I feel the heat of his skin as his weight presses down on me, his hardness pressing against my *ss. His hands travel across my back, massaging my shoulders and rubbing my arms. Despite the non-sexualness of the act, the very fact that he's doing it only serves to turn me on the more. His hands on me ignite me, and I know without a doubt that I've never felt as alive as I feel at the moment.

The sharp sound of ripping foil pierces through the air, and I turn to look at him. A lone shaft of moonlight spills into the room, illuminating his face. Silver strands of moonlight ripple across his hair, and in the low light, the condom glistens. Then he moves out of the light, and once again, he's obscured by the darkness, his silhouette one of lust and sin. He presses against me, and he kisses my earlobes, occasionally pausing to give each of them a delicious romantic bite. He placed his fingers under my stomach, a low moan escaping the back of his throat.

"How can you be so soft all over, Sera?" he spoke for the first time whispering against the back of my ear, his words punctuated by kisses. "What are you doing to me?" His gentle and soft voice mesmerized me the most.

I want to ask him what he's doing to me, but I don't get the chance. He raises me up gently and slips a pillow under my stomach, guiding me with the back of his palm, he angles me until my back is arched and my *ss is literally high-fiving the ceiling. He spanks me, the sharp pain only compensated by the pleasure that tears through me. He rubs my *ss cheek gently as if apologizing for being unable to resist spanking me.

"You're so soft," he says, and he leans and plants identical kisses on both of my cheeks. He saves one for the lips of my vulva, and I have to bite down hard on the pillow to keep myself from howling in pleasure.

He kneels behind me, his legs pushing my thighs apart. He leans in and trails kisses from the back of my neck down my spine until he gets to my waist. Then he traces his way back. "Don't scream," he whispers against my ears, a threat, a warning. Then he slams into me.

And I scream, I couldn't help it.

His hardness stretches me, filling me—a sweet sensation. I bite into the pillow to keep myself from howling out in pleasure, but it's no use. There's absolutely no way I haven't woken up the entire neighborhood.

He pushes and thrust himself in and out of me, filling me, claiming me, each practice gave a deliberate attempt at unraveling me. "Yes, yes, yes!" I moan into the pillow because I want it to. I want this.

His thrusts are merciless. The bed jerks underneath us, and in some part of my mind that isn't addled by the feel of this man inside me, I register that it would be really embarrassing if the bed broke down under us.

"Give it to me," he groans against my ear like he's angry I'm not coming apart yet. "I can sense that you're holding back. Don't. Or you'll regret it."

I want to tell him that I'm not holding back, not intentionally anyway and that I just don't want this