Page 76 of Risks of Temptation

He stops and slides his arm around my waist so I'm flush against his torso. His fingers graze my slit. "I can't decide if I like to taste your pussy, or slide my cock in it more."

Tingles ignite under his fingers. "You can do both?"

He groans. "Perfect answer." His fingers slide under the waistband of my shorts, dip into my sex, then slowly rub my clit. "Why are you so wet, ma belle? Hmm?"

I lean my head on his pecs, close my eyes, and whisper, "Can we take a break?"

He tugs me close. "Not yet." His fingers move slowly, and he switches languages and murmurs things in my ear while his lips periodically brush my cheek and neck.

Sweat breaks out on my skin, and adrenaline sits on the surface of my cells. I whimper. "Please."

He says something else, and my knees buckle, but his arm secures me to his body. Words I can't understand fill the air. Limes and leather deliciously tease my senses.

"Faster," I breathe.

More French. But he doesn't change his speed.

"Please."

Tremors roll through my body as he changes to English and says, "You're beautiful, ma belle. Innocent but not. I want to control your body in every way possible so pleasure consumes you and unravels you, inch by gorgeous inch. Whenever you believe it can't get any more intense, I want to prove you wrong, just to watch you break under my touch. But I'll always put you back together again." He never goes faster, continuing to keep me spinning with endorphins, in a long, drawn-out epiphany of pleasure.

"Malin," I moan.

He sucks on my neck, changes back to French, and holds me tighter.

The quivering in my body intensifies. My cries get louder, and a blanket of white light and dizziness consumes me.

It seems to go on forever. I think I'm coming down, and he quickens his speed and throws me into another explosive state.

He kisses my cheek and removes his fingers, bringing them to his lips, sucking.

I pant, trying to find my breath.

A cocky expression takes over his face. "We'll take a break later. We need to keep moving. It'll be dark soon."

He picks up my hand, speaks in French, then kisses the back of it. We walk down the path holding hands.

"It's going to rain," Malin states. "We need to find shelter."

I glance up through the trees. The sky is dark, and the wind picks up. We walk another mile and come to a cave. The river runs through the middle of it.

"Can you grab some kindling so we can have a fire? I'm going to see if I can find something for dinner."

"Sure."

For a half hour, I collect anything dry I can find and take everything to the mouth of the cave. I make several trips and have a big pile of brush and even some thicker limbs. The muffled sound of a gun and something hitting the ground fills the air. I jump and spin.

Malin reaches down and picks up a large bird with dark feathers. "Hope you like chicken."

I point to the bird. "That's not a chicken."

"Nope. But it'll taste like it."

Thunder booms and rain pours down. We run into the cave as lightning cuts through the sky. I jump.

Malin puts the bird near the edge of the cliff. "I'll start the fire. Let's go in a little farther. This storm is going to be bad."