The memory of a half-naked Steven, above me, pressing me into the bed as he kissed me and we thrust our hips together sped up the process even more. I...was already soaking wet down there - leftovers from the middle of the night activities or perhaps the shower, I assumed - and the slipperiness of my natural lubrication made sparks jump across my clitoris with even the gentlest of touches.Gasping for breath and moaning his name, I came in a gush of fluid that would have left a wet spot on my. The wood was quiet, as if it held its breath. And then, in one quick silent motion, she jumped at him, grabbed the hilt of his sword, tore it out of its sheath, and violently pushed him to the ground. He fell, lying with his face down, stunned, the breath knocked out of him by a tree root under his chest — he fought for air, he fought to prop himself up — and then, over his pain and his own ragged breaths, he heard sounds, strange wild noises, screams. When he finally managed to look around. More

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