Page 12 of Magdalene Nox


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Finally, her skirt was pulled up, and she could hear the astonished exhalation at the sight of her stockings, the hot breath caressing Magdalene’s thighs, getting closer to where she needed it most. Then the stranger suddenly stopped.

She almost banged her head against the door supporting her, frustration clawing at her throat.

What the fuck had just happened?

She opened her eyes, forcing them to focus. They flitted around the room before finally landing on the sight below her, and those claws of frustration were replaced instantly with an almost violent haze of lust.

On her knees, blonde disheveled hair, swollen crimson lips and the darkened eyes swallowing her whole, the woman was a vision. Mussed, flushed, and above all absolutely insatiable–and yet, that duality that had made her so attractive earlier, the combination of bold and shy, was on display once more. A delectable lower lip was sucked in again in what Magdalene was beginning to recognize as a nervous gesture, yet it made the woman even more alluring, because Magdalene was certain she had no idea how unbelievably attractive it was.

And then the low, halting voice spoke words that took considerable willpower and concentration for Magdalene to even decipher.

“I… ah… Under the circumstances… Damn it, I’m Sam, by the way, and I’ve been tested, if you’re wondering…”

Magdalene sucked in a breath, realizing it hadn’t crossed her mind, and felt foolish for even considering giving her name. She knew better, had always been prudent in her encounters. Yet this? What was so special about this one that she kept ignoring every single directive she lived by? Well, one thing she would not deviate from, no matter how tempted she was.

“I’ve been tested as well. And no names, darling. Names are not what this is about.”

She saw the exact moment the meaning of her words reached the kneeling woman at her feet, the sting of insult, so evident in those expressive eyes. The thing that pulled inside her chest in that moment frightened her, the impulse to allay, to soothe, and to give the woman what she wanted. Something Magdalene had never shared with any of her fleeting paramours before. Her name.

She took a deep breath, trying to push away the sudden flood of emotion, and to instead focus on the present. Her fingers delved into the silky strands once more, and she tugged gently. Despite the earlier pout, Sam did not hesitate even for a second, and that swollen mouth found her center.

Then all concerns and unwanted emotions were vanquished from her mind, like words from her mouth, falling one by one, without any conscious decision of hers. She knew she was moaning, chanting profanities, incoherent encouragements, and curses. She’d be hard-pressed to explain what was happening to her.

Magdalene had had good sex. Magdalene had had very good sex, in fact. Men, women… Well, mostly women… But this? This was not just good. This was an awakening.

Sam… Sam… Sam…

She had the presence of mind not to let the name slip from her lips. It would make this more than they’d agreed upon, but Sam, with every lick, tug, nip of that wonderful mouth, was transforming Magdalene.

It was embarrassingly quick, her first release. And it wasn’t so much a release as a destruction. A wreck. A wave that overtook her, thrashed her around, then threw her on the shore, breathless, hoarse and drenched.

On her knees, at Magdalene’s feet, Sam slowly withdrew the fingers Magdalene couldn’t remember having thrust into her and slowly licked them clean. The edges of her vision blacked, and she crumbled, collapsing into Sam as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did.

Pushing her lover backwards, they tumbled onto the floor in a tangle of sweat, limbs, and what little remained of their clothes. Except, as she lowered her mouth, marking her way down Sam’s sternum, strong hands gripped her hips, and within a split-second, she was lifted. And was there anything hotter than chiseled, strong arms, and how absolutely gay did that thought make her? Surely no gayer than the words that followed.

Because when Sam murmured “I am not done with you yet,” as she arched her long, graceful neck and lifted her mouth back to where Magdalene ached for her still, she was sure she’d faint. She was dripping down her thighs, her own fingers pinching her nipples as her lover devoured her again and again.

* * *

When they endedup on the bed, Magdalene had Sam on her knees, taking three fingers and hiding her face in a pillow to muffle her moans. It wasn’t working, the shaky sounds still escaping, and something primitive in Magdalene was reveling in the feral animals they had turned each other into. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this out of control. She was certain it had never happened before.

They were insatiable. Sam reached for her as Magdalene’s fingers still felt the velvet walls contracting around them, only to start all over, that mouth, and Magdalene’s body that seemed to know no satiation where this woman was concerned.

Two, three, four orgasms, and she was as ravenous as when those lips had first connected with her skin. When that tongue had first entered her. When that mouth had first closed over her clit.

The light from the street fell in stripes over them, and she let out a low sound, a whisper of a moan really, since even her voice was no longer to be trusted. As her fifth peak approached, Magdalene’s eyes locked with those of her lover watching her in rapture. The sincerity of that look, the wide eyes holding such emotion, such honesty in their desire, in their tenderness…

If Magdalene could have run away at that very moment instead of chasing yet another climax, she would have. Because those eyes were deadly. And the inherent danger, the one that had stirred unease in her earlier, was an absolute dealbreaker.

Even as she reached the peak again, she knew with emphatic certainty that she would walk away the second that devastating mouth lifted off her.

5

OF PERSPICACIOUS MOTHERS & FUCHSIA BOAS

There were advantages to her mother buying a new house after every divorce for as long as Magdalene could remember. Granted, she had no place to call home, as she had been steadfastly refusing to buy real estate herself for the stated reason of not staying anywhere long enough to settle.

The unstated reason was puzzling even to her. No place felt right, and she seemed unable to move past this deep-seated sensation that she had already found the spot where she was supposed to be, but hadn’t recognized it.

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