Passion Model Read Online Free PDF Page A

ahead.”
    The wall shimmered again, and Nigel’s face appeared before mine. The balcony, the face, the ocean all appeared too, exactly where they’d been when I’d halted the program.
    “I’m glad you came today,” Nigel said. “I missed you.”
    I didn’t bother with preliminaries this time. “Kiss me.”
    Nigel was always happy to oblige. Frankly, he wasn’t programmed to refuse. He dipped his head to mine and captured my mouth again. He put his hands on my hips, then slid them up to cup my breasts. He ran his thumb across my nipples, all the while kissing me. Kissing me.
    His tongue felt so good in my mouth, loving my mouth the way he’d soon love the rest of me. Kissing was a treat, a pleasure, something special and usually forbidden. I might fuck a dozen men or women in one shift’s time, I might have every orifice filled over and over, but I never, ever kissed them. Kissing Nigel got me so hot, so fast.
    He pushed me against the waist-high stone wall and ran his tongue along the curve of my jaw, down my neck. He took one nipple in his mouth and suckled it until I cried out. Then he took the other one.
    The dress was gone, no longer needed and definitely not wanted. I was naked, exposed to the wind and the sun and the scent of the long dead sea. A breeze, triggered by my subconscious command, blew over the wet spot his mouth left.
    I supported myself against the wall with nothing but air behind me, yet I had no fear of falling. I closed my eyes to open myself to the sensations. A gull cried. The waves pounded. Nigel kissed his way down my body until he found my cunt.
    I buried my hands in his hair as he put his mouth to me there. I felt his hands on my thighs, urging them to part. I had to brace myself on the wall, and the rough stones scratched my flesh as my fingers tightened when he licked me for the first time.
    “That’s good.” My voice didn’t sound like my own. I didn’t care. Nigel didn’t care.
    He pressed his thumbs on either side of my already pulsing clit, isolating the button of flesh from the rest of my pussy. His tongue made slow, lazy circles there, firm but delicate strokes, and I began to melt. He kept a rhythm going, slow, but steady.
    I spread my legs wider and leaned farther back over the abyss. All that anchored me to the ground was Nigel’s hands and his tongue, licking me, stroking me, fucking me. He paused to blow a puff of air across my wet heat, cooling it.
    Declan had done that. I didn’t want to think of him, but his face filled my mind anyway. I was too far gone, too close to coming to force it away.
    Nigel’s hands became Declan’s hands, his mouth Declan’s mouth. Declan’s tongue licked at my clit, and his finger slipped inside me.
    “More,” I said. With my eyes closed, nothing seemed quite real. Nothing was real, and I didn’t care. It felt too good.
    He slid another finger inside me, opening them to stretch me. I moaned. He slid his tongue in feathery strokes down from clit along my labia, and replaced his fingers inside my slit.
    I cried Declan’s name, not worried I might hurt Nigel’s feelings. The breeze swept over us, tangling my hair, caressing my body in all the places his hands couldn’t reach. The pounding of the waves became the pounding of my heart, a cacophony of white noise that buzzed in my ears.
    I didn’t have to tell Nigel it was time to let me come. With Declan’s face and hands and tongue in my head, I only needed the thought of his cock to finish me off.
    I remembered the salty, musky taste of him, and I came.
    I made a wordless, moaning cry as the good feeling burst through me. It radiated from my anus, through my inner walls and exploded from my clitoris. My pussy bore down on Nigel’s tongue, clenching and releasing even as he thrust into me harder. I was coming so hard I didn’t even need direct stimulation on my clit.
    Declan was fucking me. The man who had made me come the night before, the first man to have done so in ages.