Southern Spirits Read Online Free PDF

still asked him, ‘And what part of me do you think is my best feature?’
    Almost before she realised it, he was easing her back, onto her elbows, raising and parting her legs while still supporting them, and drawing up the hem of her dress. His voice was a whiskey purr. ‘When I’ve sampled them all, I’ll tell you.’
    Cat leant back further as he disappeared under her dress,and she felt his hands, his head, moving up between her thighs. Her breath quickened as she felt his breath through her silk thong on her pussy, and her pulse skipped a beat when she felt his fingers draw aside the strip of fabric barely covering her sex.
    He murmured with mild surprise, enough to distract her into asking, ‘What’s . . . What’s wrong?’
    His head rose from under her dress, but his hands remained where they were, his fingers slipping under her thong. ‘Hampton thought you might have a Brazilian.’
    She giggled, then yelped again as his thumb found her clit, seemingly making her heart accelerate more. ‘R– Really?’
    He teased her clit, his other fingers holding aside her thong, or brushing along her pussy lips, never entering her fully, while the sounds of their breathing filled the room. Her arms spread out once or twice, knocking things over, but she didn’t care, so caught up was she in the frantic rush of body and ego.
    Then suddenly – ‘Puta!’ She bit her lip, wondering how loud she’d been, though inebriated enough not to care too much. The climax washed through her, and her hand reached up behind her to grasp the edge of the desk near her head. ‘Get . . . Get it in me.’
    She set her head back fully, staring upwards as she listened to him undo his trousers, unzip and lower them. She felt his hairy thighs, his hands gripping her by the hips again and sliding her closer. She felt the hot silky head of his cock, a thick staff, brush against her inner thigh, and she licked her lips, gasping again as he ripped her thong. ‘Hey!’
    â€˜I’ll buy you more.’
    â€˜Fucking right you will.’
    Then he guided himself into her, supporting her legs easily, and she gasped at how wet she felt as he slid in, with so little resistance.
    Nathan quickly entered a rhythm, pumping his cock into her, with an urgent hunger. Cat yelped and cursed again, in Spanish and English, her voice resounding, the sheer animal nature of what they were doing taking hold of her. Something nearby crashed as she came again.
    She couldn’t remember when he’d come, but knew he had, felt his hot seed deep inside her. She remembered her head spinning as they had detached themselves from each other and did their best to clean up. They leant together, drunk and satisfied, kissing again, before she felt Nathan fumble with something in his hand. ‘If . . . If that’s a condom, I think you’re a little late.’
    It wasn’t. He unfurled her pink paper hat, having picked it up when she hadn’t noticed, and fumbled a little as he fitted it on her head. ‘There, your crown. You’re definitely royalty.’
    She wore it proudly – for a second, before tearing it off. ‘ Besame el culo!
    His apartment was in one of the higher, newer buildings in the Pebble District, overlooking the Atlantic. She arrived on time, and was pleased at his reaction to her outfit – the same black Melissa Massie she’d worn the night of the Christmas Incident, with her hair pinned up again. ‘Ah . . . oh. My. Yes. Lovely.’
    â€˜ Gracias. Am I allowed in then?’
    â€˜Of course.’ He smiled and stepped aside. To her mild surprise, the living room turned out to be tastefully decorated: a minimalist approach with muted colours and furnishings, low leather chairs and reproductions of French expressionist paintings. A small square table with white linen, polished silver and crystal ware sat near the open doors to a balcony