A Promise of Thunder

she lost her hold on reality.
    When she returned to awareness moments later—or was it hours—Storm was lying on the bed, naked as the day she was born, and Grady was standing over her, grinning down at her with the aggressive leer of a savage aware of his power. He had lit a lantern, and soft lightfilled the room with dancing shadows. With growing apprehension she watched him release the string holding his breechclout in place. Her eyes followed it as it dropped to the floor.
    “Look at me.” Her eyes widened hugely as they slid upward to his groin. For the first time in her life Storm saw a fully aroused male organ. It protruded like a rigid shaft—strong, bold, sure, from a thick nest of coarse ebony at the juncture of his thighs. He displayed no modesty as she stared at him, only pride in his body and the knowledge that he could give her pleasure.
    “Storm.” Embarrassed by her burning perusal, her eyes returned to his face. “Touch me.”
    Her mouth dropped open in astonishment. “Touch you?”
    He knelt on the bed, the size and strength of him frightening, yet oddly stirring. She couldn’t be absolutely certain, for she had never seen Buddy nude, but she was almost positive her husband hadn’t been as generously endowed. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips in a gesture that sent Grady’s senses reeling.
    His eyes focused on the way her tongue probed provocatively at the corners of her mouth and licked across the soft pads of her lush lips. Every nerve and sinew came alive with the pleasure that he knew would soon be his.
    “Touch me,” he repeated. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not much different from any other man.”
    Not different?
Storm thought mentally. She wanted to disagree, to tell him he was unique,that no other man could compare with him. His strong, angular face, proud bearing, and dark coppery skin proclaimed him as different from other men as night from day.
    When she resisted his plea, he reached out and grasped her hand, placing it on his distended member. Her eyes grew enormous, but curiosity overrode reluctance as her nerveless fingers stroked up and down his shaft and over its velvety tip. He groaned and lurched against her hand. When she looked up at him his eyes were closed and his face strained, as if caught in the throes of agony. Then his hand closed around hers, wrapping it more tightly around his hardness, thrusting into the soft warmth of her palm.
    “Enough!” he gasped, flinging her hand away and dropping onto the bed beside her. “Now, sweet lady, we shall see if Thunder can tame the Storm.”
    Rising to his knees and elbows, he lay full length atop her, wedging himself snugly between her thighs. Then he was kissing her, everywhere his lips could reach, teasing, nipping, tantalizing her with the hot moistness of his mouth. His hands moved restlessly over her flesh, stroking, caressing, seeking—bold—arousing, making her feel things she had never felt before. When one hand inserted itself between their bodies and probed between her legs, Storm jerked in violent response.
    “Don’t, please! I don’t understand what you’re doing to me.”
    “I’m making you happy, lady,” Grady replied as he flexed his hips and placed his swollen shaft into position at the cleft of her womanhood. His hands sank beneath her to cup her buttocks, holding her tightly as he flexed again, parting, penetrating, sliding into the liquid heat of her. Deep, deeper … When he was fully embedded in her, Storm sucked in a ragged breath as she felt herself stretching to accommodate him. Nothing in her limited experience had prepared her for the shock of total possession by a man as magnificent as Grady Stryker. Never had she felt such fullness or pleasure with Buddy, she thought wonderingly.
    “Oh, lady, I’ve never felt anything so good,” Grady groaned against her lips.
    He stroked her slowly, knowledgeably, both inside and out, with his hands and lips and shaft. She tilted her hips against him, unconsciously seeking more, and he dutifully obliged. Suddenly the slow rise and fall of his buttocks grew wildly frantic as he strained toward climax, and Storm’s senses erupted into wild, swirling pleasure. Thrusting, withdrawing, thrusting, she surrendered fully to his breathtaking ferocity, meeting his thrusts in staccato bursts of brilliant response that left Grady breathless with wonder.
    Thunder’s fury has tamed the Storm, he thought triumphantly. Nothing nature created could