<div class="floatright"> (http://cimarron.wdfiles.com/local--files/ella/Trist.jpg) </div><br/><strong>► Triste Richleau</strong><br/><br/><br/><br/>Trist smiled desirously at Chantal’s elegant manner of taking charge, her movements silky smooth and rich like her honeyed skin, her tone polite, yet effortlessly sensuous.  He sank down onto the bed, laying back just a bit on his elbows, savoring the slow and timeless are of seduction that she practiced upon him.<br/><br/>In another place, a brothel that did not possess a creature of such incredible skill and soulfully romantic eroticism in her very being, and he was sure no other place in the world did for Chantal was truly of a singular nature, the sight of a woman kneeling before him on a bed would have meant one thing only.  It was the thing most men craved in the crudest and most instinctual of ways, and one that would have bored a being of Trist’s stature and experience almost to tears.<br/><br/>But with Chantal, even in such a short time as they had been in each other’s company, he had come to expect more, and less, with the less being far more in its own wonderfully fulfilling way.<br/><br/>Her touch was light, deft and nonetheless left him both feeling afire wherever she touched him, and nearly breathless with each kiss she so sublimely planted upon his skin.  That this woman knew the places on a man’s body that brought sensations anew and plentiful, sensations uniquely gratifying and enlivening, only made Chantal and her smoldering gaze all the more enchanting.<br/><br/>“I have known more than a few sorceresses in my time, Lady Chantal, and despite their immense and oft seductive powers, none could hold a dim light to the brilliance of your own magic,” he replied, his eyes caught in the inexorable gravity of her own, of the moment that she had created.<br/><br/>“If I died now, Mon Ami, I would end my days in a way no other man nor beast could claim, to have died in the midst of heaven, such that any afterlife would pale in comparison…but given that each time you take my breath away, in the next moment you cause me to draw it deep and sure, I could no more lie and tell you to stop than I could stop the sun from rising.  Please, I ask not for you to continue, instead the greedy man that I am, I simply beseech you for…more,” Trist’s voice rolled from his lips in a deepened drawl, clearly affected and aroused in a way he had not felt in a very long time.<br/><br/>As she turned her attention away from the bare foot whose flesh she had so wonderfully blessed, Trist took his time and care to run the soft and nimble side and tone of that foot along the side of her silken thigh, and farther up her back, just behind her ribs, luxuriating in her presence and essence, even as he sought for his own touch to enliven his intoxicating lover.