He explored the chain, the rings, the padlock and its key. Each move of his fingers caused a ripple of movement through her cunt – for some reason ...ach and every movement made the fine silver chain resting on her clitoris to shift, stimulating her further and further up her Stairway of the Gods to her orgasm. His fingers moved a little more, holding the key and finding the keyhole in which it fitted. All the time, he maintained conversation, never letting his eyes move from hers. With a. “Aha!” he exclaimed, grabbing an old, worn book with brown binding. He handed it to Brady. As Brady opened it and leafed through the pages, Mr. Bowman explained: “I got it last week at an estate sale. Old widow, her husband died years ago. Had some mid-19th century American first editions. Some European books from the 17th century. A find, really. But that one there, it isn’t a published book. The name on the inside front cover doesn’t turn up any results on the internet – at least not anything. She’s in a box when it comes to you.”I didn’t like the image she was painting; one person’s box could become another person’s coffin. “What kinda box are we talking about?” I pressed Seraina for details.“Sheila feels like she’s stuck with you. She can’t send you away without jeopardizing our location. You know too much. She can’t keep you as a prisoner, that’s not who we are, and she’s not going to execute you. You haven’t done anything to harm us.” She took a sip and stared into the rising. I wanted to see what a living one looked like.UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHThe bridge. Right.I was going to focus on the first working bridge of an actual starship and not on the gloriously muscular, broad shouldered, shirtless, grease smeared god of a man standing before me. His arms were stretched up and over his head, which let him show off every single one of his iron-hard muscles. His belly looked wide enough that I could fling myself on him as a blanket and only get my feet and forehead on the.