A Sensual Encounter – Sunday Snog
Well hello! It’s Victoria Blisse’s 250th Sunday Snog! Here I am with a sensual scene to celebrate.
A Sensual Encounter – a snippet from my book, Her Stern Gentleman
Draping a travel blanket around her shoulders, she quietly leaves the cabin.
Up on deck, her breath catches as she suddenly seems to understand the infinity of the stars. They aren’t purely up above where she expects them to be but all around to every horizon. The moon has bowed out of the scene to a fine sliver, graciously allowing the stars to dazzle on their black stage tonight.
Letting her head fall back, Lizzie pulls the blanket closed. She exhales and the sight of her breath hanging in the air makes her fancy a cigarette. Yes, she could see how that would fit. James would be disgusted. He doesn’t approve of anyone smoking, least of all his wife, but in her youth, she’d enjoyed a puff or two, feeling fashionable and decadent, like a Parisian lady staking her claim to her own sense of self and doing exactly what she wants to do, when she wants to do it. She envies this imagined picture of freedom and sophistication.
“Nice night for a stroll.”
A voice alarms her and she starts, all illusions of poise shattered as she splutters in fright. A large hand rests on her back between her shoulder blades.
“Sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Her jangling nerves turn to bubbling excitement as she looks up and recognises the sailor from earlier.
“No, no, I’m the one who should be sorry; I was miles away, that’s all.” She makes sure to smile at him reassuringly, hoping it doesn’t come across as a grimace. The blush from earlier has also made a return and she is so grateful for the cover of darkness.
Her heart jumps as he brings out a tobacco tin and deftly starts rolling a cigarette. Her gaze follows as he lifts the paper spill to his lips and flicks his tongue along the gummed flap. The image plays over in her mind instantly like a déjà vu on loop after loop and the welling in the pit of her stomach rises until she realises he is saying something.
“Would you care for one?”
“Oh, yes, please,” she says, regaining her composure. “If it’s no trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” he says, flashing a dazzling smile and cocking his head to the side the way they do in the movies.
He has her enraptured. She can’t quite believe how he has altered her chemistry so much just by being in close proximity. She has gone from pondering infinity to feeling the intense arousal and closeness of the here and now.
As quick as before he is licking the cigarette and hands one to her. Her fingers are trembling, as they usually do, only this time it isn’t from being cold. She places the cigarette to her lips and leans in as he holds a cupped flame to her face. Her hair falls forward and she has to clasp it in her other hand, worried about catching on fire.
“You look gorgeous in this light,” he says, holding the lighter in place long after the tobacco is lit. The tremble has made it up her arms and the swell in her womb suddenly floods out into her sex. Arousal sweeps through her vagina and she is wet again. Wet from the mingled juices of lovemaking with her husband and a new feral arousal from this perfect stranger. Her cheeks feel like they are on fire and their eyes lock for a moment. She pulls away first, trying to find something else to focus on.
“Isn’t the night sky stunning out here?” she manages, then takes a long drag on the rollup. It is exactly the sensation she is looking for and her tension releases on the outbreath and she sags a little against the wooden banister. The smoke surrounds them, cocoons them in a surreal bubble and it feels like it is only they who exist in this here and now under the vast expanse of sky and ocean.
For a while they stand silently smoking, she sizzling just beneath the surface.
“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight at any time, let alone above deck in the middle of the night sharing the company of a stranger.”
She shudders. His tone is jokey and friendly yet there is the slightest edge of a threat to it. Lizzie suddenly feels insubstantial, just a brittle outer shell with a molten middle, ready to split and spill at any moment. Taking a deliberately brazen drag on her cigarette then flicking it over into the sea, she turns to him.
“It’s just as well I’m not your wife then, isn’t it?” With feigned confidence she bids him goodnight and turns on her heel, terrified that he might follow her. Even more terrified that he might not.
Back in the cabin her discontentment lingers as she folds the sheets in around herself, drawing close to her husband’s perpetually hot skin. He shudders in his sleep as his body protests at being touched by her icy frame. Like a vampire she steals all the heat she can, then turns her back to him and curls up in the foetal position, knees bent, toes tucked in to protect her still aroused sex.
Twitching and muttering, she finally falls asleep, dreaming of fires floating on top of the ocean, cresting with the waves then being smashed and extinguished back into dead calm.
If you enjoyed that – it gets a lot steamier – you can get Her Stern Gentleman and all my books HALF PRICE at All Romance – a Halloween treat – 30 and 31 October only x x
Now hop on over to Ms Blisse’s place to hear all about the 250th Sunday Snog!
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