Gideon, Robin - Desire of the Phantom [Ecstasy in the Old West] (Siren Publishing Classic) (10 page)

BOOK: Gideon, Robin - Desire of the Phantom [Ecstasy in the Old West] (Siren Publishing Classic)
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Pamela knew that with very little effort she could pull her wrists out of his grasp. He was hardly using any pressure
at all to pin her hands to the smokehouse wall. But she did not want to be free from him. She did not want to button her shirt, as she knew she should to be proper. She had the vague sensation of being in bondage, and it heightened all her other sensations.

Phantom began to make love to her mouth with his tongue, teaching Pamela as he aroused her. She sighed, opening her mouth wider, hungrily taking him in, playing her tongue against his. When he moved a fraction closer, she arched
her back, her shoulders still against the solid wooden wall
behind her, but her breasts now against the solid muscled
wall of Phantom’s chest.

Her nipples throbbed with tension, aching to be touched
and caressed.

This mustn’t go on,
Pamela thought.

Again, her body did not listen to her better judgment. She turned her shoulders just slightly so that the tips of her breasts rubbed against his chest. Hot tingles of pleasure raced through her, and she moaned deeply, soulfully against Phantom’s mouth.

Very slowly, he inched his hands from Pamela’s wrists, his
palms sliding over her forearms then biceps. She did not
move her arms away from the wall, leaving them bent, hands near her shoulders.

“Tell me not to touch you, and I won’t,” he whispered,
his lips at Pamela’s ear. “Tell me not to kiss you, and I won’t.”

I
can stop this madness now,
Pamela thought. She could not, however, make her throat form the words that would put an end to it all.

She turned her face away from Phantom. Undeterred, he
kissed the velvety arch of her neck, sending fresh waves
of pleasure coursing through her. She squirmed against the smokehouse wall, feeling the lips of her pussy now clinging damply to her drawers.

His hands moved from her shoulders, sliding over the
full, taut curves of her breasts. When he captured her pas
sion-peaked nipples between his fingers and thumbs and
pinched softly, a tiny cry of ecstasy escaped her.

“You can’t tell me to stop, can you?” he whispered, his
lips at her collarbone. “You can’t say the words because if you did, you know they’d be lies…all lies.”

He squeezed her breasts more firmly, filling his hands with them. Pamela’s passion soared.

“You don’t want me to stop because we both know we’re each other’s destiny. That’s why we met tonight. That’s why we’re here now.”

Pamela’s eyes closed tightly
. Why couldn’t Phantom touch
her the way she’d been touched by that other man, so that
she felt she was being pawed, not caressed? Instead of making crude comments about her being big and strong enough to make a “good bucking horse” for a man in bed, he treated her body as though it were a shrine to femininity, to be worshipped.

In short, why did the Midnight Phantom—
damn him!

have to be everything she wanted in a man?

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his lips now at Pamela’s
chest, near the top button still fastened.

Three more buttons of her shirt were undone,
and Phantom’s tongue, warm and enticing, was sliding back
and forth along the valley between her breasts, above the top bow
of her chemise. His fingers curled into the cotton shirt and pulled the tails out of her Levi’s, exposing a chemise that was even older than the shirt.

Suddenly, Pamela was embarrassed by the age and condi
tion of her undergarments, though logic told her it shouldn’t mean anything at a time like this.

Her breasts, full and tight, hurt from the tension. Not
wanting to position her arms anywhere that might prevent
his caresses from pleasuring her, she placed her hands lightly upon Phantom’s shoulders.

Looking down, she saw her breasts inside the thin che
mise. To her embarrassment, her body was responding with absolute honesty. Only three ties held the chemise closed.

Pamela’s knees were shaking. Her spine seemed to have melted. Her breath came in deep, ragged gulps. Her skin
was burning. She was certain that everywhere Phantom touched her the flesh was seared from her bones.

“Untie them,” he whispered. “Untie your chemise for me. Let me kiss you. Let me taste your breasts.”

Just do it, Phantom!
Pamela thought feverishly.
Don’t make
me help you! Don’t stop! Don’t be a damned gentleman now that you’ve made me so excited!

“Give them to me, Pamela,” Phantom whispered, his voice hoarse with passion.

Pamela looked down, and when she did, it was very nearly
her undoing. She watched as he kissed her between her breasts, just above the top tie of her chemise, then he moved to the side, opened his mouth wide, and took her cloth-covered nipple between his lips. Even through the material of the chemise, the sensation of wetness and warmth was all pervasive.

For only a second, Pamela’s knees buckled, and she sagged
against the smokehouse wall as Phantom’s lips tugged her nipple into even greater arousal.

“Oh, god,” she gasped, unable to believe that anything
could feel so good, that the sensations coming from her breast could arouse the rest of her body so completely.

He bared his teeth, nipping at the tip of Pamela’s breast.

She shivered, her legs straightening so that she stood
upright once more, though she leaned heavily against
the smokehouse wall and would surely have fallen with
out its support.

“Do it for me, Pamela,” Phantom urged. He turned his at
tention to her other breast, taking the nipple into his mouth,
moistening the tingling flesh through her chemise. “Open it. Let
me taste you.”

His request intoxicated Pamela, who knew that to do as he
asked meant her passion would reach yet another, even higher, plateau. But how high was too high? Could she
ascend so far that she never came down? And when she
did come down, how fast and brutal would the descent
be? With Phantom’s kisses, so warm and intimate even
through the cotton, it seemed entirely possible that her passion would never cease, that she would never again
know a moment’s peace from the longings of her body.

She felt his hands slide slowly down her sides then
curl around her hips to cup her bottom. She groaned as his long, strong fingers kneaded the cheeks of her ass, squeezing
and caressing her through the Levi’s, tight across the back
side because they’d been cut for a man’s narrower hips.

Phantom’s heart nearly burst right out of his chest as he
cupped Pamela’s backside in his hands and nipped the crest
of her trembling breast with his teeth. He hungered for
the taste of her nipples without the distracting cotton che
mise, but he would not strip that last barrier from her.
That was something she had to do.

His cock ached from being trapped inside his trou
sers for so long. He wanted to free it, but he knew that
Pamela would never understand. She was still holding back,
still unwilling to completely explore passion. He sensed
her reticence, but he held out hopes of changing it.

“Untie your chemise,” Phantom whispered, his lips warm
and wet in the deep valley of her breasts.
“Untie your che
mise…
for me.

Pamela’s hands were still at Phantom’s shoulders. The pleasure
that she anticipated was almost unimaginable to her, but
she believed there were more important things in the world than simply giving free rein to one’s desire for gratification.

Each time his strong hands squeezed her ass, a fresh burst of pleasure coursed through her, emanating outward from her pussy. When his right hand eased around her hip to slide up high between her thighs, Pamela’s breath caught in her throat. A fresh burst of cream made her pussy even hotter and wetter.

“Phantom! Phantom!” She gasped as his hand cupped her pussy, the heel of his palm rubbing back and forth over her clit
to spread the inferno of her passion through her body in
heated waves. Her clit throbbed lustily, pulsing with her escalating desire.

She wanted to push him away. She needed to if she was
ever to think of herself in the same way again.

But she could not. Her body could not do the bidding
of her mind. Her sense of propriety was no match against
the passion that Phantom had ignited within her.

His hand moved back and forth, pushing firmly against her delicate flesh, touching her through her Levi’s. Pamela had never felt so wet, so ready to accept a man’s arousal into her body. Phantom caught her breast between his lips again, tugging at the small, aroused bud through the moist cotton.

Pamela spread her feet farther apart, availing her pussy, shocking herself with
her wanton behavior.

What is happening to me?
She tried to think but was
wildly confused.

Phantom’s hand moved more quickly between her thighs, his palm and fingers putting just the right amount of pres
sure, the right amount of friction against the lips of her pussy, against Pamela’s pulsing clit, to draw out her pleasure. Still, his teeth tugged at
her nipple, sending yet additional waves of excitement
rippling through her curvaceous body.

For Pamela, it was as though she had become possessed,
her body taken over by a demon. She spread her feet even
wider, her shoulders against the smokehouse wall, her hips churning madly in response to the motions of
Phantom’s hand between her thighs.

The tension was agony. It was as though there was a
knot being wound tighter and tighter within her. That ten
sion was now sheer pain. There was abso
lutely nothing pleasurable about this, yet she could not
stop the motion of her hips.

And then, when the pressure could build no more, when
it had reached its peak, the release came.

She cried out, sobbing her joy, as the passion still surged
through her, her climax more powerful than she had ever dreamed possible. She clutched on to Phantom, grabbing him so that she would not fall to the ground, her knees buckling,
her legs no longer strong enough to support her weight.

Her breath came in deep gulps. Once she’d reached her
release and her orgasm was final, once the waves of white-hot ecstasy had subsided,
clear, lucid thinking returned with frightening speed.
Quite suddenly, Pamela was all too aware of what she had
been doing. And she didn’t like it at all.

She pushed out of Phantom’s arms and turned her back
to him. Crazy little tingles, aftershocks of the ecstasy she’d
just experienced, continued to shiver through her, but she
did her best to ignore them.

BOOK: Gideon, Robin - Desire of the Phantom [Ecstasy in the Old West] (Siren Publishing Classic)
10.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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