-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
-
- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
-
- Стр. 116/388
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
He
laid
his
hand
on
her
shoulder
,
and
softly
,
gently
,
it
began
to
travel
down
the
curve
of
her
back
,
blindly
,
with
a
blind
stroking
motion
,
to
the
curve
of
her
crouching
loins
.
And
there
his
hand
softly
,
softly
,
stroked
the
curve
of
her
flank
,
in
the
blind
instinctive
caress
.
She
had
found
her
scrap
of
handkerchief
and
was
blindly
trying
to
dry
her
face
.
’
Shall
you
come
to
the
hut
?
’
he
said
,
in
a
quiet
,
neutral
voice
.
And
closing
his
hand
softly
on
her
upper
arm
,
he
drew
her
up
and
led
her
slowly
to
the
hut
,
not
letting
go
of
her
till
she
was
inside
.
Then
he
cleared
aside
the
chair
and
table
,
and
took
a
brown
,
soldier
’
s
blanket
from
the
tool
chest
,
spreading
it
slowly
.
She
glanced
at
his
face
,
as
she
stood
motionless
.
His
face
was
pale
and
without
expression
,
like
that
of
a
man
submitting
to
fate
.
’
You
lie
there
,
’
he
said
softly
,
and
he
shut
the
door
,
so
that
it
was
dark
,
quite
dark
.
With
a
queer
obedience
,
she
lay
down
on
the
blanket
.
Then
she
felt
the
soft
,
groping
,
helplessly
desirous
hand
touching
her
body
,
feeling
for
her
face
.
The
hand
stroked
her
face
softly
,
softly
,
with
infinite
soothing
and
assurance
,
and
at
last
there
was
the
soft
touch
of
a
kiss
on
her
cheek
.
She
lay
quite
still
,
in
a
sort
of
sleep
,
in
a
sort
of
dream
.
Then
she
quivered
as
she
felt
his
hand
groping
softly
,
yet
with
queer
thwarted
clumsiness
,
among
her
clothing
.
Yet
the
hand
knew
,
too
,
how
to
unclothe
her
where
it
wanted
.
He
drew
down
the
thin
silk
sheath
,
slowly
,
carefully
,
right
down
and
over
her
feet
.
Then
with
a
quiver
of
exquisite
pleasure
he
touched
the
warm
soft
body
,
and
touched
her
navel
for
a
moment
in
a
kiss
.
And
he
had
to
come
in
to
her
at
once
,
to
enter
the
peace
on
earth
of
her
soft
,
quiescent
body
.
It
was
the
moment
of
pure
peace
for
him
,
the
entry
into
the
body
of
the
woman
.
She
lay
still
,
in
a
kind
of
sleep
,
always
in
a
kind
of
sleep
.
The
activity
,
the
orgasm
was
his
,
all
his
;
she
could
strive
for
herself
no
more
.
Even
the
tightness
of
his
arms
round
her
,
even
the
intense
movement
of
his
body
,
and
the
springing
of
his
seed
in
her
,
was
a
kind
of
sleep
,
from
which
she
did
not
begin
to
rouse
till
he
had
finished
and
lay
softly
panting
against
her
breast
.