JILLIAN B HART

Preludes to this post...


Kiss Mr I'm Irish - Pháirt Amháin (Part I)


Kiss Me I'm Irish -  Mar Chuid Dá - (Part II)


AFTER THE KISS

Elegant fingers intertwined with his as she fell slightly ahead of him in the mob leading him hand in hand away from the bar.  It was impulsive.  Reckless.  But, after losing herself in his kiss she was willing to abandon reason. Rushing thoughts trying to fill her with doubt. There was a time her heart had been crippled from the pain of losing him. From the pain of doing the right thing for the wrong reasons. To please the wrong people. 

They had once been so close to everything. And, then there was naught. She walked on, weaving the crowd. Nothing was greater then the risk that came with embracing this moment. Nothing greater then the loneliness that pierces your soul, behind a bright smile and a full life.

Exhilarated by the strong rhythm reverberating in her chest. She wanted her heart to keep beating like this...  To be uncontrollably aware of being alive and not just moving through motions. This was the type of moment, that affirms that heaven does exist. Makes you believe, that right here, in this moment is where you are supposed to be. The moment you know and say to yourself, “all I need is this right now”.

She looked back over her shoulder as they neared the exit.  Meeting his glance, her pulse quickened and a void inside her seemed to diminish with each passing second.  Years melting away as a connection of heart, mind, and soul, seized to the forefront in an instant. The frenzy of looming passion teased at all of his senses.  His loins aching a he moved closer to her, both of them pausing in the flood of people waiting to exit and enter the bar.  A few more steps and the multitude of the holiday horde was left behind them.  The pub music fading while the sounds of the city at night overwhelmed them.

She felt her breath catch in her throat. No plan had been erected, yet it was evolving with every step that they took on the noisy avenue.  She knew there was no turning back.  Nor did she want to, she’d not turn away from this again. Slightly shivering as the voice in her head silently shouted, “No regrets”.  Just the stroke of his thumb on the back of her hand excited her libido as her nipples tingled and tightened under silk camisole beneath her dress.  

She released his hand and stepped off the curb. Stiletto boots clicking the pavement with each stride.  As her long garnet painted nails lead her hand into the air, her voice loud, throaty and untamed, “Taxi”.

They slid into the back of the cab together.  “Where to?” His eyes locked on her, as sparks of anticipation flew through the air, the momentary pause feeling like an eternity as he nodded to her to take the lead.  Her voice strong and assured as she said, “Marriott Marquis on Broadway, Please”.  There were no other words.  Her command to the cabbie spoke volumes and conjured wildly erotic images in his mind.  Despite her confidence as she smiled at him and brushed a strand of hair from her face, her bangle bracelets clinking to reveal the slight tremble of her hand as she place it on the knee of her crossed legs.  Protectively and to put her at ease he instinctively put his hand on hers.  The heady scent of lust hung intoxicatingly between them.  Breathing it in - he lowered his head to meet hers and brushed soft moist lips against the side of her neck, nibbling and pecking downward towards her collar bone as his hand slowly slipped under the emerald hem of her dress and up her thigh.  Her head tipped back slightly baring more flesh to his kisses as her hand gently glided to his lap.  The blood rushed between his legs at just the sensation of her gently stroking him. There was no hiding the effect of her touch as she felt the rise growing under her hand.  His lips trailed her throat feeling her blood pulse under his sensitive mouth.  Shorter, rapid breaths fell into synch between them.  Her back arching slightly away from the seat as his hands moved in unison with her every response.  His fingers danced teasingly over moist lace panties and her body speechlessly screamed for more.  Moaning she drew his mouth to hers. Her hands raking through the short raven locks.  The kisses coming harder and more passionately connecting the core of their beings. With every breath their clothes feeling alien and in the way, longing for the boundless fantasy and freedom that nakedness would bring.  

Pulling back he studied her sparking eyes.  Both of them practically breathless, she pushed a long  rushing breath through the pout of her painted lips, ending the exhale, saying,  “Is this not the longest cab ride of your life?”

To Be Continued.....