Ghosts of Averoigne

Kara glanced to the window, where the storm howled just outside. Ice had accumulated on the outer panes of glass, forming patterns that were beautiful and intricate. She’d never felt so satiated. So peaceful.

So nested away.

“I don’t know Mrs. Manning,” Jeremy growled, stretching his body. “Seems to me like you might’ve done that before.”

Kara turned to face him on her pillow. She reached down and gave his balls a playful squeeze.

“Why Mr. Manning,” she purred contentedly. “Are you calling me a liar?”

Thirty-Three

He took her once more, in the dead of night…

And Kara spread her legs for him.

The first time had been for her. She’d acted wantonly, selfishly, taking whatever it was that she needed. Impaling herself on Jeremy was like slaking a thirst, the fulfillment of a long-sought release. It was something their kiss had only reminded her of, but something which Kara now realized she’d wanted since he left.

This time though, it was all for him.

Jeremy pushed her thighs apart, spreading her open beneath the sheets. He was tremendously hard — both in body and in spirit — and Kara welcomed him warmly in the darkness, locking her legs around his back in a lazy half-sleep.

She gasped only when he first entered her. The rest was all soft kisses and whimpering. Kara gave her body over to him fully this time around, allowing her mind to soar to those half-conscious places where delirium was almost a drug. It felt incredible just to be beneath him again. To be crushed by his weight. To feel the rhythmic pounding of his cock driving relentlessly in and out of her.

It was a union they’d shared often, but not for a long, long time. It felt good to revisit it. Somehow right.

Kara had no idea how long it lasted. However it was, it was just long enough. Eventually his grunts grew shorter, his thrusts more frantic, and then Jeremy was spending himself inside her. His whole body stiffened and Kara drew him in deeper, clawing at his ass wi

th both hands.

Jeremy’s warm seed was still leaking out of her as she fell blissfully back asleep.

The next morning dawned big and bright. Totally clear.

The storm was over.

They were up quickly, and got ready without words. Kara scored them a couple of coffees and some pastry from the kitchen downstairs, while Jeremy flagged down a snow-plow driver just long enough to bribe him into bringing them to the Averoigne.

A half hour later they were in the hotel’s big lobby, well before the morning breakfast rush. They decided to head back to their rooms briefly. To clean up a bit, and put on some fresh clothes.

“Honeymoon’s over?” Jeremy sighed. He grinned sheepishly

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Kara watched as he climbed his way up the grand staircase. When he turned the corner and was out of sight, she slipped into the side corridor… and headed down to Logan’s room.

Maybe he’s not alone…

The thought actually hadn’t occurred to her until now. Kara paused awkwardly in front of the door to room 120, her knuckles hovering against the wood.

What if he’s with the blonde girl?

She knocked anyway. Nothing.

What if—

Again she pushed the inner voice away. Logan owed her nothing. Even less after last night. Still…

The door opened and Logan was there, shirtless and groggy. He coughed noisily. Rubbed at his eyes.