The Return Chapter 5 Hole Hearted His hand found its' way down between her thighs, the heat in his palm made him harder than what he thought possible. It had been too long since he had felt her lips on his , her hands upon his face. Reigne had that way, and she had not a clue as to what she did to his insides. She melted steel, thawed icebergs, she was the fission that split his atoms apart, each going out into the universe only to be piled back again. She had no inkling as to what she did to him. His other hand unbuttoned her blouse, pushing it down her arms onto the floor. Her bra came next, being unsnapped in mere seconds and discarded next to the blouse. Both hands now reached for her breasts, bringing them down to his wet mouth as she leaned back on him and moaned. Her arms came up around his neck, pulling him to her as he scooted up, swinging his right leg over the chaise, and carried her to the king sized bed. Music began to play, just as he lay her down on t...
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The Return Chapter 4 Showdown It had been such a long time. Night after night Reigne dreamed of this, this here, not the before with the arguing and madness that always seem to be the first thing that happened when they would meet. She loved him. She hated him. She loved him. Yeah. It was a love hate relationship. She would never admit to him though, the first always outranked the last in her heart. He was her first in everything. Her first smile, blush, laugh. She couldn't remember a time when anyone else mattered to her in her heart. Sure, there had been others. Over the centuries, just like this last, they parted. Him to his duties and her to her life. It was always a fight before he left, and a make up when he came back to her. It was intermittent calls, a card every once in a while, or a news paper clipping that seemed to come her way of him and another. It was never easy, but she understood. She knew it was never easy for him either. Ross Point had become his...
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The Return Chapter 3 Thoughts of Yesteryear It was Spring, 1860. A year before succession but the talks were there. The rumours were flying and every political candidate and businessman had their own opinions about things. Shane had traveled North to Kentucky to purchase some horses for the farm his family had bought near Drakes Plantation. He was new to the area, and Drake Sturgill was kind enough to show his family around, lending them advice on what land was good for farming and what was more fertile for retail crops. He rode over that sunny Saturday only to find a woman in riding trousers! She was dressed just like a man save for the red ribbon in her long hair. Although he wasn’t as conservative as some of his family and friends he was taken aback on this attire and quite quickly found that his sound observation was not reciprocated. She stood there next to her horse, a black stallion only heard of in myths and legends. Her hair had been pulled back from her face, ...
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The Return Chapter 2 Soul Storm The rain was coming down in sheets now. The lightening played within the gray rolling clouds as the thunder clapped and banged in the skies. The energy in the room seemed to increase tenfold. It must have been the room itself, as it was always his favorite place in the whole house and now that he was back, it was once again, as it used to be. It seemed that everything around missed his presence. Everything but her. She almost laughed at her own thought. She missed him as if he had been the sun to her moon. Those nights crying until no more tears came were hell on her. That would be something she would never let him know. Now here he was on this night of storms back where she always knew he belonged. She wondered, as she sat down regaining her throne of dark blue velvet, if he would notice that his books were still where he left them. She looked at the first three shelves of combat treatise. All feudal, hand to hand and hand to weapon manuscr...
The Return
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The Return Chapter 1 The Gathering Storm Listening to Rossini, she was brought back to what Beethoven had said about his works, and even though she loved Beethoven, she liked Rossini also, and didn’t in the least think of his work as “fluff. At times, she did however feel like invading Poland herself when she listened to the Ninth Symphony of Beethoven’s, and never understood why it had not played at chess tournaments or battlefields. She brushed her long hair, in one stroke of the brush, first one side and then the other, flipping it over her face, bending her head and getting the back just like her gran always made her do. She was pensive today for some reason. It was hot, and although it had rained a little a while ago, it wasn’t humid as it usually gets on the last days of August. The sun was out, and setting in the west in a fireball of oranges and reds. Even the sky took on a pinkish hue of iridescent color. It was pretty out, but she knew it would...