Excerpt from Love Burns Bright


Kiki DeLovely

I don’t know if I’ve ever witnessed anything more sexy than the intent and intensity in her eyes as she shakes her head, slowly, side to side, when what she really means is “Fuck, yes.” As though she’s disbelieving of just how incredibly right it is. As if every- thing about me is so right that it’s wrong. She takes her sweet time with that simple motion, as if she hasn’t the slightest need to rush, despite the fact that other parts of her may in fact be moving at much greater velocities. This apparent discord—between both the unspoken verbal and the pace of the physical—although seemingly misaligned, has a radical effect on my desire and even brings an asymmetrical balance to my lust. Allowing my passion to course wildly through my mind and, hence, my body—blood pounding like the stomp of wild ponies through my veins and racing to deliver an aching throb of need to my cunt.

Even after centuries of playing at this game, she still has this madness-making ability to cut me to my core with very little effort.

We’re surrounded by people, all of us waiting to be seated, but once she’s locked me in her gaze, all I can see is her. And she knows it. She takes a long, slow gander at me—eyeing my feet dangling on the last rung of the bar stool, trailing up my unlady-like-positioned legs, fixating briefly on the lacy frill at the hem of my skirt (just long enough to lick her lips), before continuing upward. I wrap one of my patent leather heels around the back of her leg, innocent enough for general public purposes, and pull her in closer to me. She blinks her eyelids shut a little too long and inhales deeply. A lecherous grin creeps across her mouth, into her eyes. I know this look.

Leaning into my face, she pauses for several seconds—my heartbeat quickens in my clit—then makes her way to my ear. “You know that intoxicating scent of yours?” She waits just a beat for her rhetorical question to sink in and then continues, “I can smell you from here.” My blush is hard and immediate, my mind racing, wondering if she can smell my cunt in a crowd of people, who else can? And yet, not caring in the slightest— feeling so gorgeous and cherished in that moment—so very pleased to please her with my scent alone.

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