She was under him, her body servicing him, just as she wanted, just as she was meant to. For Silmaria, the mountain and the old god’s storm and the ...ssassins and the whole world could be damned. Nothing else mattered. At last, she was where she belonged. *** Rael ran his fingers tenderly through Silmaria’s thick tumble of black curls. Her hair was a tangled, unwashed wreck from weeks on the road, and it was still beautiful to him. “We can’t stay here,” he said quietly as his fingertips traced. At her place, she gestured me to a leather couch, which looked and felt incredibly soft. She flipped up her skirt, showing me that she wore crotchless off-white pantyhose and a thong. "Let me do a mini-strip and change. The pantyhose aren't the best thing for quick play. Do you prefer bare legs or thigh-highs? Think nasty, though. As long as we respect one another physically, I have damn few limits." Bare legs. Maybe stockings later. If you're in a slutty mood, fishnets look wild although they. More

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