Tag: Book excerpt

  • Sexy Reads – Lilith: Generations Of Cain

    Sexy Reads – Lilith: Generations Of Cain

    Out of Eden and into a whole heap of trouble! With the help of her trusty lusty demon friends, Lilith’s search for Azazel continues as she shimmies her way through the ancient worlds of Sumer, Babylon, and Egypt. Lilith finds out that Eden is a very boring place. Mesopotamia is where adventure awaits. Meet Blind Dragon, Og the Giant, the two-tailed cat from Inanna’s temple library, and many more sexy creatures. Witness the birth of the children of Lilith. Did I mention huge ants? Swarms of huge ants. Yeah. Follow as Lilith forms the most awe-inspiring pussy posse ever to storm the underworld in the name of love.

    Excerpt

    “Do you, Samael, give yourself to the brotherhood of the fallen ones and equally share our sin for all eternity?”

    Samael gazed upon Lilith longingly, then took the drink in his hands.“I do.” He imbibed, then returned the cup to Uzza, who swallowed a large gulp of the wine.

    “Samael, bow down to our queen. Bow down to Lilith, Queen of the Demons!”

    They all bowed. Uzza offered the goblet to Lilith. She held it up high. “You are all bound to me forever, and it is my will that we find Azazel. He is our hero and our leader. Do you all pledge to help me find him? Promise me that you will do this!”

    Samael was first to speak, “You have my complete devotion. Your word is my law.”

    Shemhazai was touched. “I will do anything to see my brother again. We have much work to do, and we need Azazel’s guidance to get it done.”

    Lilith tipped her head back and emptied the remaining wine.

    “That settles it.” Uzza retrieved the cup from Lilith and refilled it from the goatskin. “We must unite our forces and find Azazel. Tonight we send our plea. We send a message to all the fallen ones in hope to find our lost brother. Azazel immortal, we know you are out there! We want only to return you to your lover.”

    Lilith raised the goblet of wine. “To find Azazel!”

    “Shemhazai, Samael, stand before your queen.”

    The two gathered in front of Lilith. She was radiant. Her face was flush from the wine. Her legs spread wide as she lifted the hem of her long gown, seductively exposing her body to them, revealing the fragrant secrets underneath her dress.

    Samael’s eyes fixed on Lilith’s perfect body. Ever since he witnessed her dive down the waterfall to her freedom he had loved her spirit. Samael was completely smitten with her. His cock began to rise with desire.

    Uzza saw Samael’s inspiration grow before Lilith. “Yes, yes! I feel the energy rising!

    “Four hundred searching eyes
    Scour the earth, scour the skies!
    Hear us, brothers, hear our cries
    We call the fallen ones, arise!”

    “How do you come up with these rhymes?” Shemhazai smirked.

    “Listen and learn, brother,” Uzza replied. “Listen and learn.”

    Lilith pulled her dress up and spread her legs wider. Her fingers found their way to her desire. She rubbed her wet pussy lips and opened her cunt to Samael. “Samael, I know you want me. You’ve wanted me all this time. Bow down and taste of my cunt.”

    Samael stepped forward. He bowed down and ran his tongue deeply into Lilith’s small pussy. She poured the wine slowly into a trickle down the delicate folds of her vulva as he licked.

    “Yes! Bow down before your queen!” Uzza lifted his arms and continued with his incantation.

    “Four hundred searching eyes and ears
    Hunt where northern light appears!
    Bring bold Azazel, who slays our fears
    Home to his lover who perseveres.”

    Samael’s tongue probed into Lilith’s wetness, tasting the mingled juices of her sex and the potent wine. She squirmed on the altar. She clawed at the soft fleece of the goat skin blankets and opened her knees wide. “Oh, Samael, that feels so fucking great! You lick my cunt so well!”

    Shemhazai was doing his best, but his cock was not hard. He threw a look of frustration toward Uzza. Uzza knew girls weren’t his thing. He met Shemhazai’s eyes and, with a nod, gestured at Samael.

    “Yes, brothers, we must lift the energy! We must do what we must. The altar demands your seed! Our message must be heard!

    “Four hundred searching eyes that shine

    Comb through southern sands so fine

    For any trace or clue or sign

    Of the fallen one, the first in line.”

    Uzza again nodded at Shemhazai, who got down on his hands and knees. He crawled toward Samael and sucked Samael’s hard cock from under the altar. Samael immersed in the thrill of licking Lilith’s sweet pussy and feeling Shemhazai’s hot mouth around his cock.

    “We send our voice into the void! Hear us, brothers, hear our plea. Bring forth the knowledge we seek! Find our kin, Azazel. Hear our plea!”

    “Four hundred searching eyes, awake!
    In the east where day doth break
    By the power of the snake
    Make transparent what is opaque.”

    Shemhazai sucked Samael’s cock with abandon. He reached down and jerked his own erection as he got Samael’s cock wet and hard.

    An ember popped from the fire, showering Samael with sparks. He brushed it off without taking his face from between Lilith’s legs. His devotion was unyielding.

    When he was ready, Samael stood up. Shemhazai held Samael firmly and plunged the spit lubed cock into Lilith’s unsuspecting ass. The size was almost too much to take all at once.

    “OH, FUCK!” Lilith shouted in a raspy voice still worn from calling to Azazel all night. Uzza snatched the goblet as Lilith adjusted her body at the edge of the altar, at the perfect height for Samael’s cock to fill her ass. She grabbed each of her legs behind her knees. The luxurious goat skins enveloped Lilith as Samael pumped his cum deeply into her puckered rectum, filling her anus. Millennia of pent up sexual tension released in an instant, binding him forever to the fallen ones.

    “We consecrate this altar with our seed. Hear our call!” Uzza chanted on with one hand holding the goblet of wine, and the other jerking off his excited cock.

    “Four hundred searching eyes that seek!
    Under westward waters peek
    Banish thoughts of lost love bleak
    Brothers, what you find do speak.”

    “Let me taste your cum!” Shemhazai shouted, pulling Samael’s dirty cock from Lilith’s ass and cleaning it with his mouth. The bitter taste of Lilith’s ass brought Shemhazai to his limit. As the first drops of semen escaped, Shemhazai stood and plunged his cock balls deep into Lilith’s cunt.

    She was overwhelmed with being filled so quickly with another hard cock. “Oh my God! You are so fucking big!”

    Cum oozed out around Shemhazai’s cock. He pumped furiously into her as the swirling combination of two loads of cum frothed into a thick white batter.

    “Hear our cry! We call to the fallen ones! We cry to Azazel!”

    “Four hundred searching eyes, unite!
    We call our brethren in the night
    Merge the strength of demon might
    Around the world, take flight tonight!”

    Uzza could take no more. He threw the empty goblet down on the floor, grabbed Lilith by the hair, and pumped his cum all over her mouth and face.

    “Yesss!!! So mote it be!”

    Lilith twisted her body so Uzza could fuck her throat as Shemhazai churned semen into her cum-filled cunt. Though filled to the brim with three loads of demon cum stirring inside every orifice of her body, every part of her ached for her lover Azazel.

    Shemhazai pulled out and sucked the double load of cum out of her pussy and ass. He filled his mouth with thick hot fluid.

    As Uzza’s cock slid from her mouth, his face beamed with glory.

    “The vessel is full! Our message is sent. Now we wait.”


    May Ling Su is a prolific sex blogger, model, and muse. Her portraits taken by celebrity photographer Timothy Greenfield-Sanders are in the book, “XXX: 30 Porn Star Portraits” and exhibited in fine galleries worldwide. She also appeared on “Thinking XXX,” an HBO documentary on the making of the book. She was nominated for the Feminist Porn Award. A short documentary film about her work was aired on the award-winning Dutch show Metropolis TV. Anointed as a Pornsaint in Italy, artists painted her portraits and exhibited in Amsterdam, Zurich and the United States.

    New York pop artist Sucklord created a Scratch ‘n Sniff Pussy May Ling Su trading card in his Suckpax 3 collection. As a writer, she contributed Power Couple, a creative narrative piece for book Agam, published by the Institute for Climate and Sustainable Cities and winner of a National Book Award in the Philippines. She also narrated and produced an audio book, Armageddon’s Princess by Anthony Pacheco. Her novel series, Lilith, is now available on Amazon.

    Website: http://maylingsu.com
    Twitter: http://twitter.com/maylingsu
    Facebook: http://facebook.com/maylingsu
    Email: maylingsu@gmail.com


    Image courtesy of May Ling Su

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  • Sexy Reads – My Russian Master (Service & Submission Series, Book 3)

    Sexy Reads – My Russian Master (Service & Submission Series, Book 3)

    Sometimes the road to happily-ever-after begins with two simple words: “Yes, Sir.”

    For CEO Caroline Turner certain truths were inescapable. No matter how powerful, successful, and pretty she was, it didn’t matter when it came to the number on her scale — a number she wasn’t at all happy with. Like every other obstacle in her life though, she had a plan for overcoming it. The famous Maxim Volkov chef and fitness expert wasn’t cheap, and he wasn’t exactly falling in line with her wishes either, but he was perfect for the job… and extremely easy on the eyes. However alpha and devastatingly handsome the taciturn Russian might be, he seemed to have a different understanding about who the boss was in their particular arrangement. She’d just have to put him in his place… and try to ignore the insane urge to kneel at his feet.

    200x300russianmaster

    Excerpt

    Maxim swung the belt just hard enough to make her groan on each swing, but not hard enough to break the skin or bruise harshly. He’d worked with Viktoria before and she performed in most of his videos.

    He had pushed the skirt up onto her back, her hips elevated on a pillow. Viktoria loved the belt and whip. As a masochist, she loved the pain, sought it like a bear needing honey. The pain centered her, calmed her. She’d been abused as a child and she liked having the ability to relive the hurt under her terms, under her control. She said it healed the scars, the pain in her soul.

    There it was. Soon she’d be coming. She lifted her ass off the pillow, swiveling, circling, her ass yawning open, the silky juices moist on her labia. He thrashed her bottom with the soft, worn leather strap three more times, right at her sit spots, knowing the vibrations and impact of the blows would reverberate up her sex to her clit.

    And there…

    “Ahhhhh!” She screeched into her pillow, her bottom clenching, turning the yawning ass to a tight seam between her cheeks. She groaned, pounding into the pillow that had been used to elevate her hips. He waited until the quakes settled a little, then resumed the cracks of the belt. The blows weren’t fast, but rather timed with the gyrations of her pelvis.

    “Oh, God,” she moaned.

    Her arousal was climbing again. He increased the pace to match hers. And when she mewled loudly, he cracked the strap against her ass — hard. She went rigid, her whole body stiffening like a plank, a growl coming from deep in her throat as she arched her back. She gripped the bedspread in white knuckled fists, convulsing with her release, then finally dropping her head to the bed, totally spent.

    He didn’t let her decide that it was over though. She never controlled how long or how hard. That decision was reserved for him alone. Resuming his belting of her now very red ass, he gave her slow, methodical strokes, varying the swats from light to harsh and back again.

    Now that the arousal and adrenalin had subsided, the ache of the belting would be felt. She’d start becoming aware of her inflamed bottom. She went from mewling and moaning to quietly crying, which then progressed to sobbing. He gave her two more strokes, then stopped. Weaving his belt back through the loops of his jeans, he made sure to stand in her line of vision, as he knew she’d want. As exhausted as she was from the two orgasms and the whipping, her hips still thrust as she watched him wrap the belt back around his waist.

    Women.

    They loved watching men take off or put on a belt. He stroked her hair off her face, kissing her brow before walking over to shut the camera off.

    This would be another great video. He’d upload it to his page on the spanking video site this evening.

    He stood at a distance, giving her time to come down from her orgasm and for her sobs to subside. He loved spanking Viktoria. They’d been lovers first, and when that had ended they had continued as friends — friends with benefits. Although they didn’t have sex anymore, they did meet each others’ kinky needs. He needed someone to spank and whip, and she needed and craved the pain.

    It worked for them.

    He’d been raised in a family that believed in strict, stern discipline. Rules, expectations, and firm boundaries were to be adhered to, not manipulated or disobeyed. He’d been spanked too many times to count as a child. Eastern European families were known to chastise their children with rigorous methods, and although he had never been abused, he rarely broke the same rule twice. Swift and severe punishment was applied liberally.

    But he understood Viktoria’s need to resolve some of the pain and scars from her childhood, and if his own needs could be met during these sessions too, so much the better. He loved her as a friend, cared about her emotional well-being. She needed that comfort as well as the pain.

    She definitely wasn’t the first woman to admit this need, and it amazed him how women thought they were alone in their needs and kinks. Often they were surprised to find out that many other women had the same desires. As much as Viktoria craved the pain, the aftercare may have been just as important. Aftercare brought her back slowly to here and now of the real world, but always with a more peaceful, quiet spirit.

    “Viktoria. Viktoria, sweetling?” He murmured her name, stroking her bottom gently. He rounded the bed, gently pulling her panties up and lowering her skirt down over the inflamed flesh.

    “Girl. It is time to get up. Come, we cuddle for a bit.” He sat at the top of the bed, pulling her into his lap. She wasn’t a small girl; he didn’t like small girls. He seemed to be partial to a woman of substance, sturdy with a fleshy, generous ass. He liked a little wobble when he smacked a bottom. Her breasts were also ample; they filled his large hands nicely. Small breasts would be useless to a man of his size. It’s why he liked Russian women. They weren’t pencil thin like Americans — well, some Americans anyway.

    He wrapped his arms around her soft body, her head buried in his chest. She was still sweaty from the energy expended during her orgasms and whipping, and he brushed her hair back, gliding his fingers through the silky strands, brushing her forehead with light kisses. He hummed a little, gently rocking her, slipping small pieces of chocolate into her mouth and following it with water. Her eyelids would flutter, her eyes regarding him briefly, then closing again, her soft hum resembling the low purr of a cat.

    Contented.

    He loved seeing her in this state, totally at peace, without a care or concern.

    He felt similarly after one of these sessions. The steady rhythm of the whip or belt with the resounding crack accompanied by the mewls and whines of a sub brought him back in touch with himself, his primal need as a man. It reinforced his need to subjugate and subdue, with the power only he could control — and slowly release. The need to control was strong in him, and yet he loved nothing more than to care for and comfort a woman afterward.

    Keeping a tight rein on his restaurant and the students under him satisfied this need too, yet the desire to wield a whip or strap pulled at him daily. He loved knowing that by sheer willpower and control, the whip could be harsh or sensual. He delighted in watching a woman dance and shout in pain — and in contrasting ecstasy — all by his control of the implement.

    Viktoria’s eyes weren’t glazed over anymore, and she smiled at him when he met her gaze. “You came nice, no?”

    “Yes, Maxim.” Her cheeks blushed. “It was good and loud, right?”

    Maxim laughed, “Yes, it was loud. Neighbors will be looking to see if the cat is okay.”

    She slapped his chest with her small hand. “Not funny. You make me come so hard. It is ridiculous how I sound on American video.”

    “Americans love the videos, and you screaming when you come makes it hot. People like to watch Viktoria come loudly. You and your beautiful ass.” He squeezed those gorgeous globes, and then swatted one of them, hard.

    She scooched her hips forward, trying to avoid another swat. Like that would work.

    “Don’t remind me, Maxim. It scares me to think I may have sex, shouting with orgasm in American hotel, and people recognize me, no?” She shook her head, nuzzling it against the center of his chest.

    He ruffled her hair, fisting the silky strands in his hands, pulling her head back until she was forced to make eye contact. “What do you care about people you never meet? Eh? No worries. Come. Time for you to go. I have to read email and then go to restaurant.”

    She kissed him on the cheek, climbing off the bed and grabbing her purse. She made it partway out of the door when he shouted after her, “Next week. Thursday, ten thirty. We do this again.”

    “Yes, Maxim. I will see you then.” She waved and shut the door.

    He started the computer and opened his email, scrolling through the familiar names and deleting the spam. One item caught his attention, an email with the subject line:

    Wanted: Fitness Chef for CEO. Pays Well.

    He opened the email and quickly read. He no longer had any difficulty with English.

    Full time. Lives in Manhattan. Requires Green Card or American citizenship. Chef and fitness trainer to Caroline Turner. CEO of Turner Marketing. Pay will be

    He blinked, reading it again. That couldn’t be? Was that right?

    So far, everything looked fine. He had his green card, and although he lived in Moscow and was trained to be both a chef and fitness trainer in that city, he had lived in the States for a while. None of this was an issue. And the pay. Well, the pay would be fabulous. He didn’t want to lose his chance at this job. He found his phone and dialed the number immediately.

    “Turner Marketing. Sammi speaking. Can I help you?”

    “Yes. Hello. My name is Maxim Volkov. You sent an email to me for fitness chef, yes?” He knew he had spoken slowly, but it was the only way to be sure that he used the appropriate English. Most people didn’t have trouble understanding him, but he wanted to be sure. Accents were hard to decipher over the telephone.

    “Oh, hi Maxim. Yes, we’re interested in a fitness chef for Ms. Turner. Caroline would like someone on a live-in basis at her home. You’d have your own living area — kind of a wing, actually — living room, kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. I included the pay, right?”

    She spoke very fast and seemed almost overly friendly.

    He took a deep breath, hoping he remembered everything she had said. “Yes, you told me about the pay. That would be acceptable.”

    Acceptable? It’s more than you could hope to make in five years!

    “You didn’t say anything about living there,” he said. “But if I have my own area, that should be fine.”

    “Do you have working papers, Mr. Volkov?”

    “Maxim. Call me, Maxim, Samantha. I have a green card to work in the US.” He cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair. “I have been chef in New York, actually.”

    “Really? Where?” The surprise in her voice was obvious.

    “The Russian Room. You know of it? You eat there?”

    “Nah. But I’ll check it out. So, do you think you may be interested in the job?” A hint of hopefulness snuck into her voice now. Samantha was either a great administrative assistant, or Miss Caroline Turner could be a difficult person when things didn’t go her way.

    “Yes. I would be interested. We’d have to discuss details, of course.” He never jumped into things. Getting the details and working out any kinks ahead of time would be best for both of them.

    “Oh, that’d be awesome! Thank God. When would you be able to meet with Caroline to discuss the final details?” There it was again. He’d have to watch Caroline when he met her in person, to see how she related to staff. It would be very telling for him personally.

    “I need to book flight to U.S. so I can email you when my flight is confirmed. Is there any week that is no good for Caroleena?

    “Oh, it’s pronounced Caro-line. She’s very picky about how people say her name, Sir.” Samantha had an edge of rebuke in her voice, which never boded well with Maxim.

    “I say it that way because of accent. She will understand, I am sure. When is Caroleena available, Samantha?”

    “Uhm… Sammi. Call me Sammi. Well, she said that she’d move her schedule around to accommodate you, Max. So, whenever you want.”

    Maxim. You’ll call me Maxim, or Sir.” He paused, waiting for her response.

    Start as you plan to continue.

    “S-sorry. Maxim, Sir.”

    “It is just how I wish to be addressed. No worries.” He paused to look at his schedule on his phone. “It should be no problem for me to be there next week. So, I will call you with details of flight. Should I make hotel reservations?”

    “No. S-sir. Her penthouse has a wing for you. Did I put that in the email? Or did I forget?”

    “No, Samantha, you put it in the email. I’m not hired yet, so I had no reason to believe I would be able to stay there. But, thank you, I will stay at Ms. Caroleena’s. Caroline’s.

    “Okay, Maxim. I’ll talk to you soon! I’m so glad you’re coming.”

    “Good day, Samantha.”

    Maxim hung up, staring at his phone.

    Interesting.

    Caroline didn’t know him at all — hadn’t even met him yet — but was willing to let him stay at her penthouse. Definitely not safe.

    Impulsive.

    And Samantha was overly eager to please her boss, evidently fearing her boss’ negative reaction to things.

    The good news was that Caroleena wanted him to start immediately.


    Purchase the rest of My Russian Master at:


    Image courtesy of Megan Michaels

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  • Sexy Reads – Lust When Away From The Pack

    Sexy Reads – Lust When Away From The Pack

    After a night of drinking with the girls Lucy has plans to go straight home, but gets far more than she bargained for when she bumped into Damien.

    Damien has a secret, one that by his own admission has ruined other relationships, but after a night of steamy sex he reveals himself as a werewolf, and what’s more, as the Alpha of his pack.

    Lucy’s love for him is too strong to back out, so she finds herself in a dangerous world of fangs, danger, and sex.

    Excerpt

    “I’m part of this…group. And they need me around to help sort shit out and keep everyone moving along. When I’m not there, it doesn’t work so well. They needed me, and she needed me, and I guess I picked them.” He explained, vaguely, gesturing with his beer bottle in his hand.

    “Did you make the right choice?”

    He paused for a moment, thinking. “I don’t know. I think so. It’s just tough, because I try to keep those two parts of my life separate and this was the first real indication that it wasn’t going to work long-term. I have to choose between having a personal life, or handling this group.”

    “Huh,” I offered, not quite sure how to respond to that. What kind of group were we talking here? Football? Soccer? Board games? It was clear that he wasn’t going to volunteer the information, and I didn’t feel like I was in a position to drag it out from him.

    He shook his head. “Sorry, I know how fucking stupid and boring this all must sound to you. You brought me back here for one thing, and here I am taking up space on your couch and drinking your beer and bending your ear about my shitty life choices.”

    “Don’t worry about it,” I waved my hand in the air, dismissing his words. “Anyway, who says I brought you back here for one thing? What possibly gave you that impression?”

    In that instant, his maudlin mood seemed to lift, and he turned to me, his eyes bright. “Maybe it was the making out in the taxi? Or how much I wanted to have you wrap your legs around my waist when I saw you in that skirt? Or the fact that, right now, you’re looking at me like you want me to kiss you again?”

    I turned away, pretending to be insulted. “Well, if that’s the way you think of me…”

    “Hey,” he caught my shin, and turned my head towards his. Then he kissed me again, his lips firm on mine, his tongue parting my lips and exploring my mouth. It was far from our first kiss, but it was just as intoxicating as the other ones- maybe even more so, considering the fact that this kiss seemed to hold so much more promise than the others.

    “Was I wrong?” He breathed, pulling away from me just long enough to look me in the eyes.

    I managed to shake my head slightly, and then we were all over each other again; he pushed me down into the couch, pinning my arms above my head as he began to work his way from my lips, to that spot just behind my ear, down my neck, and towards my breasts. Fuck. The feeling on his light stubble against my skin and his hot breath on my breast was almost too much to bear, and I arched my back so that I could feel his whole body against me. Sitting up, he began to unbutton his shirt, revealing a toned chest that I wanted to caress with my fingertips. I lay beneath him, my chest heaving, my body frozen for want of his touch. Throwing his shirt aside, he lay down on top of me again, his body heavy and warm on top of my own. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or the situation, or simply some perfect combination of pheromones, but I knew that I wanted more.


    Read the rest of Lust When Away From The Pack by purchasing it here:

    http://www.amazon.com/Lust-When-Away-Pack-Paranormal-ebook/dp/B013M74AGW


    Image courtesy of Caitline McBride

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  • Sexy Reads – The Heart of War

    Sexy Reads – The Heart of War

    Inside the Heart of every Warrior breathes the Soul of a Hero–even within The Heart of War.

    Meet Ares God of War, the greatest Warrior the world has ever known. He’s moody, grumpy, dominant, ravenously sexual, and above all, built like a Greek God. Suspected of killing his Daughter in-Law, Psyche, and long in exile from Olympus, the solitude of Ares’ island is interrupted when Magdalena MacLeod a brash and sometimes manipulative Fey washes up on Ares’ island after believing she’s been shipwrecked. It’s not mere fate that has brought the unlikely couple together yet it may be what tears them apart.

    Branded with a golden chastity belt bearing the mark of Cernunnos, Celtic God of the Forest and Death, Alena has been on the run from her husband the Great Horned God for 200 years. When the Olympians discover her presence on Ares’ island, they send Apollo to the island while Ares is away with orders to bring her to Olympus. Diplomatically winding her way out of immediately going to Olympus, when Ares returns and with nowhere to turn, Alena strikes a bargain with the God of War–her virginity for his protection.

    Ares sees a sweeter deal; her in his bed and himself back in his rightful place on Olympus even if it means turning Alena over to Zeus. After Alena proves herself to Ares in battle and his bed, the God of War must choose between his Divinely Dysfunctional Family, his pride, and Alena. Get lost in this sweeping dark saga battling Ancient Gods while falling in love with Ares God of War and Alena MacLeod. Ares and Alena share a love that will rock the world from the heights of Olympus to the Celtic moors, but will it be enough? Will love triumph, or will revenge and rage win the battle for the Heart of War?

    The Heart of War contains scenes of graphic sex and violence. As such, this novel and the entire OF WAR Series is intended for MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY it is NOT recommended for the Faint of Heart.

    Excerpt

    Ares sighed deeply. “I don’t appreciate it when those around me lie. Want to try again?”

    “No,” she stammered and pushed his hand away, hoping he’d put the vial back in the box. “I’d rather not answer your question. It’s…personal.” Alena’s bottom lip began to quiver and her eyes began to mist.

    She didn’t have to go any further than that.

    With a wave of his hand, the box and all its contents—including the vial—disappeared from the bed. He reached up to put his hand on the nape of her neck and brought her down to him. “You were going to drink it, weren’t you?”

    She turned away from him with a deep frown. It wasn’t the first time she’d tried to take her own life and she doubted it would be the last. Like her attempts to commit suicide over the centuries, Jaakim hadn’t been the first to abuse her in such a way, but he had been the worst. The day she returned from being Jaakim’s little sex toy, still full of Mamba venom, she’d gone to the girls’ dorm, opened the footlocker and broken the seal on the vial. She drank it. Battered and broken, she’d crawled into her bed and waited to die. Alena was very sick for about a week but she was still breathing. Although they did have very long life spans, Feys were not Immortal. Alena was only half Fey. She never understood why no matter what she did, how hard she tried it just didn’t work. She always woke up the next day.

    “Tell me,” Ares said in a firm tone.

    Without looking him, her gray eyes fixed on the fire burning in hearth instead, Alena spoke. “I just wanted it to be over. I was tired of being afraid all the time. What does any of this matter to you?”

    Ares turned her face back to him to gaze into her watery eyes. Although he couldn’t yet say why, it did matter very much to him. “The taking of one’s own life is never the answer.” For a moment Ares sat there in her arms, taking in that sweet scent and feeling her warmth while wishing he’d killed Jaakim just a little slower.

    “Why not?”

    “Because if you’re dead you can’t experience this,” Ares kissed her.

    As their lips touched her fingers that had been dancing so delicately across his shoulders and upper back froze in place, flexed, and grabbed at the flesh below. Lowering the hand at her neck to her waist, he pulled her body down onto the bed. Alena let out a very sweet sigh as she slid right into the crook of his arm with her lips pressed to his. Her hands were finally allowed to run wild in the space between his neck and his chest. Even though she was afraid that once this started it might never stop, she couldn’t get enough of touching him. The heart in her chest raced like the wind, her lungs couldn’t get enough of the air around them, which had suddenly become hot, steamy. The scent of him, so deep and rich, every breath was intoxicating making her head light and dizzy, her body weak, and her soul cry out for more.

    When his lips pulled away from hers only to land on her neck and suckle, the palm of his large hand covered her heaving breast over the thin material of the shirt. Alena pushed the shirt open under his hand so that there was nothing between them. His touch warm and although it was manly, it was also soft, especially for one who called himself a warrior and was always splitting so much wood. The feel of it over her hard nipple made her nails scrape along his back. Ares couldn’t wait to get his mouth around it; she cupped her hands to his face and brought him closer and then his tingling lips left her once more and made their way to their first destination of the evening. His mouth gently closed down over her ample breast and her back arched up off the hard stone to greet him. She tasted like heaven, sweeter than Nectar and more palatable than Ambrosia; he began to wonder what that bald space between her legs would taste like dancing on his tongue. However, there was no rush. They had the entire night. Apollo wouldn’t return until morning and by then it would be too late. Reaching down past that patiently waiting place between those too slender hips, he grasped the hem of the shirt and slowly pulled it upward, letting those thick fingers linger over that same waiting spot, finding it moist already before he brought the shirt up and over her head, laying her bare beside him.

    She was a rare prize, Ares understood all of the reasons Cernunnos wanted her. She was beautiful. She was brazen. She was brave. She was passionate. Just what the Olympians wanted with her or what Eros had already done with her he didn’t know but he intended to find out. Not before he took all that she was offering to him—her body along with her heart. Not before she said that she was his.

    The world around her began to spin and Alena could no longer tell up from down. It was getting hard to breath and even more difficult to tell where she ended and he began. Men had touched her before but none like this, none that made her want to explore, to surrender, to lose control. The space between her legs became misty, then steamy, then it sweltered as it swelled and prickled with life. “What are you doing to me?”

    Ares didn’t know what he felt, why she filled his head with helium, making it so light he felt it would float off his shoulders and he would be glad for it. He didn’t know why what had turned in his favor as a simple barter between friends became so electric and heated. Then again he hadn’t destroyed that camp because someone defiled one of his whores long before he came along. Ares did it because he was so angry that Jaakim would dare to touch one like Alena that he couldn’t see straight long before Sha’Quanda finished the story.

    “If we do this, you will protect me from them? From your Family?”

    “Are we still bartering?”

    With all of her rationale and reasoning fleeing swiftly Alena grasped for the last bits of both. In the end, he was Ares and Ares had a reputation that didn’t bode well for him. “If we do this, Cernunnos will know. He will send them after me.”

    A barter it was. Fine. Ares always did like to get his payment up front. “Let him know. Let him come. I am not afraid.”

    Staring into those deep smoldering eyes it was clear to see that no, he wasn’t. Why should he be? He was strong. He was powerful. He had the command of fire. He was a God, which put Ares on even footing with Cernunnos. “I thought you didn’t like virgins. Too much crying.”

    Ares cradled his head between her breasts so he could listen to her heartbeat. It was strong and fast. He reveled in the feel of her hands running through his hair and down his back. No woman made him feel this way. He didn’t just want to penetrate her, he wanted to take his time and savor every inch of her. “I lied.”

    Why didn’t that surprise her? After all he was Ares, what else should she have expected? “Kiss me again.” Alena couldn’t help herself. Ares wasn’t the best custodian she could think of to hold and protect her heart, but she couldn’t fight what she was feeling any longer. All she could do was surrender to him and the desire swelling within her.

    “With pleasure,” Ares whispered, his full lips barely touching hers. When they pressed to hers Alena’s head lit up with electricity and the whole world vanished.


    Visit Lisa Beth Darling’s site to purchase The Heart of War at http://www.moonsmusings.com and watch the Of War series trailer here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eowJWBrVB78

    For more of Lisa’s links, find them at the end of her bio below!


    Image courtesy of Lisa Beth Darling

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  • Sexy Reads – Punished by the House Guests

    Sexy Reads – Punished by the House Guests

    My husband Dan and I have one of those relationships where he rules the roost, and I obey him or suffer the consequences. I know, it wouldn’t work for everyone, but it works for us. When I make too many snide remarks about Alison, the bitch house guest from hell, Dan not only disciplines me for being a poor hostess, but, to my horror, he also allows our two guests to watch and join in my humiliating punishment. But it turns out, he knows me better than I know myself, because it seems, humiliation is exactly what I crave…

    houseguests-400-wide-400x600

    Excerpt

    I thought I was quite good at concealing my irritation so it did no more than bubble to the surface every now and again in a mild way, and then something bad just slipped out of my mouth.

    I couldn’t help it.

    We had an open-plan house, so I could see Alison on the couch from the kitchen where I was frantically getting a meal together by myself as usual, and she decided she was having trouble unscrewing the top off her nail polish bottle, so she asked Dan for help.

    I couldn’t help repeating under my breath in that simpering way she had “Dan, could you help me with this please,” and I added to the effect by waggling my tits as she had on the sofa and adding “because I want to show you all I’ve got.”

    Of course, they both chose that very moment to look my way, and Alison gave a little shriek of protest, while Dan just said “Bedroom, now!” and I didn’t think I could do anything else but go there and wait.

    “That was unspeakably rude,” he said. “I can’t let that pass. You’ve been less than welcoming to Alison and Tom the past few days, but that was too much.”

    He pulled me over his lap, lifted my skirt and pulled down my panties to my knees. And then he walloped me hard six times. I knew Alison would be able to hear those smacks, and presumably he knew it too, but he was so annoyed he didn’t care.

    And it was all the more humiliating to know she would be aware of exactly what was happening to me. That spanking hurt just as much as it ever did, but the surprising thing was that, despite the shame of it, I felt excited by feeling Dan’s hand on my bottom more than ever before, knowing that bitch could hear everything.

    “Now pull your panties down and take them off. You can stay like that all evening. Go out there and apologize to Alison.”

    I humphed a bit about having to apologize, but I went out there anyway.

    Alison was as ungracious as I expected her to be, when I said “I’m sorry, for being rude, Alison. Tough day at work, you know.”

    She just smirked at me and looked pointedly at my behind, letting me know she knew I’d been disciplined like a child. I could feel a blush creeping over my face, and there was something else as well. I was getting wetter as she looked down her nose at me.


    Purchase and read the rest of Punished by the House Guests at:

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    Image courtesy of Caia Fox

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  • Sexy Reads – Blood, Sweat and Black Leather

    Sexy Reads – Blood, Sweat and Black Leather

    Damien Lieberman has two men to choose from, David Wilder, a man from his past, whose love he must gain to release his guilt, and Gabriel Tivoli, an acquaintance from his past, who offers Damien eternal youth, beauty, love and life to walk the earth as one of the living dead. Damien chooses to meet Gabriel in Lone Oak Cemetery at midnight on Halloween in a horrendous storm, but his feelings are torn between reuniting with David and building a new relationship forever with Gabriel.

    BSBL.Postcard.Excerpt

    Excerpt

    A bolt of fire struck a nearby headstone, the pounding roar echoing through the canyon. Jumping in fright, he looked above, viewing a perfect, orange, full moon illuminating his surroundings. He glanced at the flowers on the graves, all wilting, except those on the Tivoli family plot. Damien called out, “Gabriel, are you part of this family tree lying in these graves?” The clouds covered the glow of the moon, the winds picked up velocity, and the rain became heavy again. He inhaled the scent of hormones he recognized from sexual encounters with men from his past. Another gust of wind almost blew him off the bench, even though he held tightly to the marble seat. The rain poured down; he sensed something spectacular ready to boil the blood in his veins.

    Feeling weak, he closed his eyes momentarily. Awakening, he saw Gabriel standing nearly naked, clothed only in a scant leather thong, his dick bulging big and hard beneath the pouch. Towering over him, those brilliant green eyes radiated intense fire. Gabriel dripped with rain, illuminated by an aura of desire. His black hair lay over his shoulders, glistening wet and shiny. “I want you here… tonight.” Gabriel commanded. “I want you too, but I’m weak. I can’t move to touch you.” “That frequently happens once you’ve become one of us. I’ll restore your strength.” Gabriel knelt on his knees with his lips ready for Damien’s mouth. He kissed him forcefully, his curled tongue shooting through his lips. “Suck my nipple, either right or left. Clamp down with your teeth and bite, hard. I’ll give you the sweet nectar you need to live and thrive.”

    When Damien hesitated, Gabriel pulled his head down to his right breast and pleaded, “Now suck with those tight lips; bite with all your strength. I’ve something special you crave.” His new lover waffled at first, only gently sucking, until Gabriel bit him on his neck, piercing his tender flesh, ingesting the small amount of blood he had remaining. Damien swooned in pleasure with his initial desperate bite, almost falling off the bench. After indulging in the first few drops of blood, it became a sweet aphrodisiac, tasting like a fine, aged Scotch. Then the resulting potent kick shot electricity throughout his body, blinding him and heightening his sense of touch, leading to a momentary orgasm. Realizing the power infused in Gabriel’s blood, he sucked ferociously, needing more of this pleasure with a voracious hunger. He continued to quench his thirst as he regained his strength. He surpassed a plateau of powerful energy, delving into a euphoria he never imagined. Gabriel’s eyes lit up with flames. “Yes, do me!” As Damien released his teeth and mouth, he fell from the marble slab onto the grass, feeling exalted pleasure, his cock growing erect, hard and gleaming with pre-cum. “I love you, Gabriel Tivoli!” “Not so fast. We’re not done yet. We need to explore each other in the true bond of love, not like those mortal men from your past.”

    When Gabriel removed his black, leather thong and knelt down farther, Damien watched in awe at his friend’s long, erect shaft dripping with cum. “I’m going to do you now, more than you or I ever fantasized.” He knelt down farther to thrust his dick into Damien’s thirsty lips. Damien pushed him away momentarily to take off his shoes and remove his pants. He glanced at his own dick, swollen, the acorn tip oozing. Sitting up, he grabbed Gabriel by the hips, urging him to thrust his dick into his mouth. “I thirst for your cum more than when I first met you, more than I could ever imagine.” Damien opened his mouth, surprised by the size of the bulbous crown of Gabriel’s dick. His tongue and lips tasted the sweat where Gabriel’s leather thong once was. He waited to clasp it between his lips, letting his tongue sponge the moisture from his rock hard cock. “Give it to me now!” “Quit teasing me,” Gabriel demanded. “Bite down hard. I need to know you want me.” He forced his cock deeper down Damien’s throat. Gently, Damien clasped down with his front upper teeth, hoping not to cause discomfort. “Harder! I know you can please me. You’ll become my companion for eternity. Now grind those incisors like you’re ready to pierce the veins on my shaft.” Gabriel’s cock throbbed, as it jerked back and forth between Damien’s loose opened lips.

    “You can satisfy us both.” Damien bit harder, while his lips clamped together like a vice. Squirming with pleasure, Gabriel enjoyed the tight lock and friction. Thrusting his dick faster, he begged, “Tighter.” But Damien was preoccupied with the taste of Gabriel’s flesh; a flavor only a man’s need for another man could distinguish to satisfy his thirst for his partner’s amorous juices. He was no longer afraid to punish the man he’d wanted for many years. He wants me to do it harder now, and faster, but I’m going to tease him and tease him again, until he begs me to bring him to orgasm. He slapped Gabriel’s firm ass with the newly acquired strength in his hands and arms.


    Buy Links for Blood, Sweat and Black Leather

    Kobo Books:

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    Amazon:

    http://www.amazon.com/Blood-Sweat-Leather-Yellow-Dreams-ebook/dp/B00S4F4R3E/ref=sr_1_1?s=books


    Images courtesy of Pablo Michaels

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  • Sexy Reads – How to make wild, passionate love to your man

    Sexy Reads – How to make wild, passionate love to your man

    Every woman makes love to her man with her heart, but just where do you learn how to do it with your mind and body too? Here is a chance to peep into the sexy world between your man’s ears, and lots of practical advice on what to do to drive him wild. Now you can be the most skilful lover he has ever experienced…

    Excerpt

    Men Looking at Women…

    What do men think looks sexy?

    People as different as men and women are bound to have different ideas about what looks sexy. Men are believed to take in a whole-body image of a woman when they first see her. If she is interesting, they register an image of her sexual features – legs, butt, breasts – and then add hair and face. Interestingly, men find it difficult to recall details of what she was wearing or the color of her eyes. They retain a strong opinion of her attractiveness but often cannot tell you much beyond whether she was wearing a skirt or pants. It is as if they are more interested in the effect of her presentation than the details of the presentation itself. A woman seeing the same person is much more likely to be able to recall what she was wearing, perhaps because her mind is unclouded by the question of sexual attractiveness.

    It follows that subtlety is probably wasted on men; it will be only the obvious that stays in their minds. There is not much point worrying about the color balance of the chiffon scarf you have wound about your neck to highlight your new blouse. He might remember that you had something around your neck but he will certainly recall that the cold had made your nipples stick out like thumbs.

    Women look in acid scorn at the girl at the party who has the men hanging around her like dogs at a barbecue. She is dressed just like a slut, her skirt is too short, her breasts are halfway out of her blouse, and those heels are ridiculous. But hey, she is not sitting at home on Saturday night waiting for the phone to ring. She must be doing something right.

    Men in bed dream about sex. Their minds are filled not with pictures of fashion statements but erotic images of women. Of succulent thighs, rounded hips, soft and swinging breasts, heavy feminine bottoms. And that is what they find sexy when they are awake as well.

    Don’t Men care about Personality?

    Nope. Not at first sight. An empty-headed bimbo will get as much attention as you do. Or probably more, because she survives by getting men to take care of her and she has had a lifetime of practice. But don’t be depressed; it doesn’t take much of a personality to catch a man but you will need one to keep him.

    In the meantime, you must concentrate on understanding what men find sexy, so watch the bimbos and learn. It should not be too difficult. After all, you are smarter than they are, aren’t you?

    Men are so Childish!

    Well, yes, I can see why you might say that, but you would be wrong. Let me give you two reasons. Firstly, heterosexual men make up nearly half of the population. If they all have similar reactions to women (and they do, believe me) then you cannot call the reactions childish. They are part of the fundamental male spirit.

    The second reason is that some of the very same men have painted masterpieces, created sublime music, ruled empires and written literature that endures for centuries. Nearer to home you have devoted fathers, solid carers and servers of the community, and quiet gardeners. Inside all of them, sometimes open for view and sometimes discretely hidden, is the same old Adam who would just love to reach out and caress the waitress’s bottom. It is simply the nature of the beast. You do not have to like the situation, just understand how it works.

    Oh, and if you are ever feeling superior about it, run down to the newsagents or supermarket check-out and buy a gossip magazine or a Mills & Boon novel. Who looks shallow and childish now?

    Are you a Sex Object?

    Of course you are. You are a woman, so it follows that you are a sex object. In male eyes there are no alternative positions. The only question is how successful you are at it (in his eyes). Again, you do not have to like the situation but you will have to live it.

    I hope you do not feel terrible and trapped in a world you cannot change. The best response is to quietly take control of your bit of it and even out the playing field. Perhaps it will help to think of the pig-board.

    Have you ever used a pig-board? Do you even know what one is? Well, the story goes like this. If you ever meet a pig face to face, you will see a dense mass of muscle on four legs. Probably not much over knee-high but as heavy as you are. This pork bulldozer is controlled by a surprisingly intelligent brain behind those piggy eyes. You will realize in an instant that if this pig wants to walk right through you, there will be nothing you can do to prevent it. So how are you going to control him? Negotiate? Tell him that his piggy way of looking at you is out-dated and that his worldview must change? Not a chance. Instead you use a pig-board.

    A pig-board is a rectangle of light ply or aluminium with a handhold cut into the centre of the top edge. It is wide enough to reach across the fenced races you find in stockyards and pig farms, and high enough that the pig cannot see over it. So if you want to close off a race and divert the pig into a neighbouring pen, you merely hold the pig-board in front of your trembling knees and close off the pig’s view of the open race behind you. He will then trot sweetly into the pen you have opened for him, instead of bowling you over and leaving hoof-prints over you and your little piece of ply. Magic!

    Every species of animal has blind spots and the pig-board exploits the pig’s natural instincts. You have a pretty good idea of what your man’s natural instincts are concerning women; you just have to use your knowledge to get an even break.


    Continue reading How to make Wild, Passionate love to your Man at http://www.jacquelinegeorgewriter.com/howto.html


  • Sexy Reads – A Rough Ride

    Sexy Reads – A Rough Ride

    When Marianna tried the dress on in front of her full-length, floor to ceiling art deco mirror, the dress wasn’t quite as opaque as she’d feared. It clung to her body like a second skin, with a tenacity that surprised her, and covered up all of the important parts. That was, until she made a move. Then the diamonds quivered, stretched, sparkled and revealed naughty glimpses of skin as they pulled this way and that. As it shifted around her, the dress became a walking advert for indecency. Twisting this way and that at the mirror, she caught a flash of nipple, watched the curve of her breast as it moved softly against the material and if she moved her legs, well, that was another story. Standing with her legs shoulder width apart, the mound of her sex was clearly revealed beneath the delicate triangles. Turning around to view the back, she could see the outline of her toned backside and, if the material was stretched further, the valley between her ass cheeks was clearly revealed. It felt sinfully invigorating. Taking a few practice steps around her bedroom, she smiled as the tiny threads of rope rubbed against her nipples, breasts and sex, and she found that the faster she walked, the more exquisite the sensation. As she moved, the dress slithered in tiny, stimulating whispers all around her body. It would make her acutely aware of her nakedness with every step she took, which was the idea she guessed. Mark Matthews was indeed a master tormentor. No foreplay would be necessary with an outfit such as this, if foreplay had been necessary – which it wasn’t.

    When Marianna waltzed back into the lounge, poised and almost regal in stature, Mark felt his breath catch in his throat. The personal shopping assistant, who advised him on all of his purchases from Harrods, had really outdone herself on this occasion. The dress was scandalous, outrageous and damn near perfect to his mind. Each tiny flash of generously tanned flesh served to titillate his senses and the outfit managed to accentuate all of her ample charms, if that were possible. It was a beautiful frame for a near perfect body. He would never tell her that, of course. He needed to keep this one on her toes.

    1

    “Not bad, Miss Morreau,” he drawled, cocking his head to one side as he appraised every inch of flesh from top to bottom. “You have made one small error, however. I wonder if you can tell me what it is?”

    Marianna’s face took on the appearance of a little girl for a minute, lost and confused. It took her a moment before she remembered where she was and who she was with. Her eyes flared in understanding before she let out a strangled sob. Getting down to her hands and knees once more, she whispered, “I’m sorry, Sir. Please forgive me.” Mark clucked his tongue. She was giving him the ‘lost puppy’ look and it was all he could do to stop from smiling.

    “So many indiscretions this evening, Miss Morreau. We really must start addressing them.” He appeared to consider the matter, while his eyes were devouring the way her breasts wobbled slightly as her breathing quickened. His naughty little girl was aroused, so much the better. “Hmm. I have just the thing. How about we go out for a drink? I know a lovely place in the center of London. Fancy a gin and tonic, my dear?”

    He stifled another laugh as her face dropped. He wondered if she would ask the question or whether he would just give her ‘the look’ and stifle it in its tracks. He decided that would be a little mean, so he waited expectantly. Marianna’s mouth opened and closed several times and she looked not unlike a goldfish gasping for air. She even got to the point where she raised her finger in the air anxiously and Mark gave her an encouraging smile. “Something on your mind, Marianna?” Her mouth snapped shut. Damn the woman, she was spoiling all his fun. She’d obviously figured out his game. What she didn’t know was that they would have been going out had she been a good girl or not. He wanted to see how she would handle the idea of going out in public not only nearly naked, but with a dress that would slay the average male mortal at ten paces. It was going to be an entertaining evening.

    “Before we go, Marianna, I feel that certain aspects of your behavior need to be addressed. So you may place yourself over my knee, hands on the armrest of the sofa. I think we should make that backside take on a pleasant, cherry-red hue before we let the general public lay their eyes on it. What say you, sweetness?”

    Marianna had still not come to terms with the fact that she was about to display all of her most intimate charms to any member of the public who might care to look at them, so it took a moment before her eyes connected with his. Her pupils had dilated dramatically and she was running scared. It wouldn’t do her any harm.

    “Now, Marianna. I am not a patient man.”

    2

    His sharp tone had her rushing to obey. She laid her slight body over his thighs and he felt his trousers crumple as she moved forward. It was probably a good thing. He’d need to look a bit rumpled if he wanted to fit in at the bar they were going to tonight. Splaying her body forward, her cheek rested on the arm of her sofa, tilted to the left and she draped both of her arms either side of her head. He let her rest there for a moment in contemplative silence. Anticipation was the mother of desire, and he would see to it that she had more than her fair share of the fickle creature. She began squirming before he had laid even a single finger upon her. He let her wriggle. It served to arouse him as well. He watched the little, glistening diamonds as they danced sinuously upon her body. His hand itched to slam into her flesh, but he waited patiently. There was a time and place for everything and he valued every last little aspect of control. Another twist of her groin, grinding into his pants made him catch his breath, but still he waited. When she finally cried out, a muffled little gasp of arousal that she could no longer keep inside her, he took pity upon her and slowly slid the pathetic wisps of silk covering her ass cheeks up towards her waist. Her sharp intake of breath was delightful. He could hear her fingernails digging into the soft suede of the sofa and her heels scrape against the carpet. Yes, she was ready for a little pain he thought. She had certainly earned it.

    Letting his fingers slide over the soft mounds of her buttocks, he felt the taut muscle there. It was no surprise she was a little apprehensive but he wondered if she would be wet and ready for him. His fingers walked a path down her butt cheeks. Hearing Marianna moan at even that light pressure, he was pretty much assured of the outcome of his exploration, and when his fingers reached the base of her sex they almost skidded. She was drenched. Perhaps it was a good thing that there wouldn’t be much dress to soak. Plunging two fingers forth into her core, he watched as her back strung itself tight as a bow and her hips bucked against him.

    He whispered, “You’re ready for my hand, aren’t you Marianna?” There was no immediate response. To make his point clear, his hand grasped an ass cheek with a fearsome grip and squeezed. She gave out a high pitched yelp and whimpered, “Yes, Sir.” Well, that was a bit more like it. He raised his hand in the air, palm facing down and unleashed himself.

    The first few smacks were a gentle warm-up both for Marianna’s backside and for his hand. He needed to get a good pattern and rhythm going. The idea was to slowly build up the heat so that each spank was a little bit harder than the last. At the end of this session both his hand and her backside would be sore, but there was no question that she would have the worst end of the deal. To give her credit, she settled into the spanking after the shock of the first two slaps had left her and then raised her buttocks to welcome each new slap as she had been taught. She didn’t move her hands or her head, and she kept her dazzling green eyes wide open even though she couldn’t look at him with them.

    Alternating from side to side, he admired the twin peaks of firm flesh and the first spots of colour that had just started to encourage her ass to blush rather beautifully. It would take a good few minutes to develop something half-decent and long lasting, but he was on the right path. Each slap saw a slight quiver as the orbs tried desperately to recover themselves before his hand descended again with another fresh attack.

    “I’ve been thinking about your punishment for this evening’s ‘panty’ debacle. As you have already realised, parading you around central London in that dress will be a part of it. It should help you lose that innate sense of propriety that you seem so keen to hold on to. You need to learn that when I lay down the law, I mean for my instructions to be obeyed immediately and without question. Failure to do so will result in penalties. These may be moderate to severe, depending on my choice, but I shall make sure that the lesson has been learned.” As his hand continued to fall, he increased the strength of the stroke. She whimpered in protest, but there was still little movement on her part. “You will be pleased to know that I am going to allow you the privilege of wearing panties to work.” He did not miss the puzzled frown that graced her face. She had every right to be confused but he intended to clear up her misunderstanding quickly. “When you arrive at the office, however, you will bend over and push your panties down so that they rest around your ankles. That way, I will be assured that you are not wearing underwear while you are working under my roof.” Marianna’s jaw dropped in horror and he knew it had nothing to do with the effects of his spanking, even though her backside had just begun to wiggle in the most charming fashion. “You may speak.”

    Marianna did the goldfish thing again. He hadn’t slowed the pace of his spanking, so it was going to be a little hard for her to concentrate, but she’d get there in the end. Women were renowned for their multi-tasking skills he’d heard.

    “Isn’t there some…” a rather loud squeak ensued as a particularly hard whack cracked down, “health and safety law against that?” Her words tripped over one another in a breathless manner and her squirming increased. He could feel his cock harden painfully as he watched her body undulate backwards and forwards.

    “Against what?” He raised an eyebrow out of habit, but was aware she couldn’t see it.

    “Against try-ing,” another squeak, “to walk,” a yelp of pain, “in-high-heels-with-your-panties-around- your-ankles!”

    “It’s a good job I speak gibberish, Miss Morreau. No, the only laws in my office are those which I set and you will ensure that you walk slowly and carefully within the confines of my office, so as not to injure yourself. If you manage to injure yourself through your own stupidity, you will, of course, be punished.” Slap, slap, slap. The metronome beat of his hand was building in tempo. She had to wait a full minute before she could summon a weak, if faintly sarcastic response to his dictate.

    “Obviously.” That was the last thing she said for quite some time.


    Purchase A Rough Ride at the following links:

    Amazon: myBook.to/ARR
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    Images courtesy of Christina Mandara

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  • Sexy Reads – Lost Faith

    Sexy Reads – Lost Faith

    Is it better to have loved and lost than never loved at all? For Ty and Trent Jamieson, the Grey River pack Alphas, they would say either would be preferable to both!

    Lost faith - 7 days to go

    Excerpt

    “Oh God!” Faith groaned, or rather tried to, but it was difficult to understand given the fact that Trent had his tongue down her throat. Wanting to be an active participant in what was proving to be an explosive first introduction to ménage sex, Faith sucked firmly on his tongue and plunged her hands into his hair. Her ears were ringing as her body flew toward a precipice she knew that once she flew off, she would never be the same again.

    Ty suddenly plunged a finger into her cunt and rubbed an unknown place within her that sparked such pleasure she tore her mouth from Trent’s with a scream, and her body began to tremble violently.

    “Fuck yeah, baby, Ty’s found it, hasn’t he?” Trent growled against her neck as he continued to fondle and pinch her nipples, heightening her pleasure. “Ty’s totally hit your sweet spot.”

    “You have no idea just how sweet she fucking is, Brother,” Ty growled against her pussy as he added another finger and continued to rub her in just the right spot, the trembling increasing to the point Faith was sure she looked like she was having a seizure. Her body felt like it was hurtling toward something big. Faith needed something to help her, but she just didn’t know what.

    “Ty, please!” she sobbed, desperate. “Please!”

    “Anything, Faith, for you, anything,” Ty rasped before he swirled his tongue around her clit, then sucked it into his mouth, gently biting the swollen nub. Faith threw her head back and screamed as an orgasm the likes of which she had never felt before overtook her.

    “Oh fuck yeah, baby, do it, come for us,” Trent groaned and growled against her neck. It seemed to crest again as Ty continued to plunge his fingers into her sopping pussy and sucked harder on her clit.

    All too soon, the tremors slowly began to ebb, and the world began to fall back into place. Faith could hear not only her own harsh breathing but the constant growls of the man still steadily licking her and lying between her spread legs. She could also feel Trent’s hot, harsh breath against her neck.

    Suddenly Trent moved away from her, and Ty’s form loomed up and over the top of her. His mouth glistened with the juices from her own body, but what caused her to almost stop breathing was the look in his eyes. As if he were on the edge of complete insanity, an insanity she had caused with her response to him.

    Of their own accord, her legs wrapped around him as he settled in the cradle of her hips, the hard, blunt head of his weeping cock pressed against the swollen folds of her pussy. He held himself above her on arms that rippled with muscle and restraint.

    “Faith, I have to take you.” Ty’s voice was slightly garbled, and Faith knew that his wolf, stronger than most due to his alpha status, was fighting for control.

    Faith would have dearly loved to believe that the reason for that was because of the mating heat and Quickening, driving him to complete their mating with her by biting into her shoulder, marking her as his for all time and for all to see. But she knew that wasn’t the case. If they had experienced the Quickening, it would have been years ago when they first met at the diner. As she understood it, the Quickening was so powerful that wolves could barely control their reaction to their mates, and they certainly couldn’t hold back from it.

    No, this was not the Quickening. It was simply affection and intense desire that drove Ty’s wolf forward.

    “Then do it, Ty,” she whispered as she lifted her arms to wrap around his shoulders and urge him to her, gently rolling her hips in invitation. “Take me.”

    The words had no sooner left her mouth than Ty thrust home, filling her with his cock. Both of them threw their heads back and groaned at the sensation.

    “Fuck, Faith, you feel fantastic.”

    Image of young woman looking back

    Faith gripped Ty’s shoulders and held on as he started to move within her, slowly at first and then with more strength and power. He fell against her, kissing her with a passion that left her breathless. She could taste her own salty musk on his lips, but that simply added to her pleasure. Oddly, the thought of tasting him and his brother flew into her mind. God, she would love the opportunity to take them into her mouth and learn them with her tongue. She wouldn’t stop until she had taken every drop they had to offer.

    “Hell yeah, you would, Faith. You would take every damn drop, sweets,” Ty growled against her lips.

    Faith started to wonder how Ty knew what she was thinking, but then he added a twist with his hips when he slammed home, which ground his body against her rapidly swelling clit, causing all thought to evaporate.


    Links to purchase Lost Faith:

    www.bookstrand.com/lost-faith

    Lost Faith [Grey River 1] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) – Kindle edition by Maia Dylan. Literature & Fiction Kindle eBooks @ Amazon.com.

    Follow Maia on Amazon here: http://www.amazon.com/Maia-Dylan/e/B00WPO0GNA/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1


    Images courtesy of Maia Dylan

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  • Sexy Reads – Forbidden

    Sexy Reads – Forbidden

    “Bestselling Romance Author Kiki Howell provides a taste of the sun, sand, waves, and a certain sexy as hell male body no woman in their right mind could resist, in this mainstream romance novella. Take a cruise with Forbidden and meet Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious as he provides Samantha with her greatest adventure yet, in the bedroom and out.”

    Excerpt

    When the door clicked behind her, his body moved to hers like a magnet. His strong hands rubbed down her back, over flesh and then material, to stop just above her ass. He pulled her against him, fierce, showing a loss of control that excited her. Looking up, her heart feeling like it was in her stomach made the butterflies there flutter with more determination. His hair, now free of the rubber band, framed his face with silky curls. One wild and unruly section of strands covered his left eye, while several others fell over his right shoulder. Jacket and tie already gone, the open buttons of his dress shirt revealed the chiseled muscles of his chest she’d already imprinted in her mind.

    “Can I kiss you?” he growled, the gravely tone of his voice savage and wonderfully unsettling.

    The serious lines etched in his face broke for a second into an unconscious smirk before relaxing back into their natural state of tempestuous scrutiny, like he was on the edge of some fantastic discovery. At this moment, she knew he wanted to explore her. The knowledge of that fact sent a cool shiver down her spine, one soon doused by the heat rapidly building in her core.

    When words failed her, his brows furrowed, his lush, black lashes semi-covered the stormy look in his eyes. She steadied her hand by running her finger over the course hair of his moustache. Following the thin trail of hair past his lips to his chin, she settled on the small patch just below his bottom lip. A perfect triangle within a perfect square, the hair tickled her fingers, alighting every nerve ending until she throbbed, wondering how his face would feel rubbing over the sensitive skin of her mound.

    His blood-red lips open again, this time his mouth fell into a full smile. She dared to touch his lips, finding the skin warm and soft. Still grinning at her like a tiger about to devour prey, something primal and maybe even sinister lurking in small upturn of his lips, she startled when he nipped at her finger.

    “You’re stalling, denying yourself. Why?” he questioned, his voice deep and sultry, devouring her senses.

    She merely shrugged, letting her other hand fall to the hard lines of his shoulders, and then drop to the dip at the base of his neck. This move kept her hands from rubbing over the chill running over her arms. Her shawl, now a puddle on the floor, didn’t have that much to do with the intense shivers crawling over her skin.

    “I scare you?” He frowned, his voice deeper than usual. “I can see it in your eyes.”

    “In the best way,” she finally got out. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’d never been with someone like you. Stormy. Untamed. Strong. Dark… I don’t know how to put it. The mystery you are to me, rich kid, but not spoiled, smart and strong, intense and loving. I don’t know what kind of lover you’ll be. I guess that excites me as much as terrifies me.”

    “I’ve no chains to tie you to the bed with, though, if you’re expecting that, I could surely improvise such a thing.” He laughed, a slight sound that resonated a playful hint at the base nature of violence.

    “With thoughts of dark overlords or the mafia when I look at you, I can’t say some capture fantasy hasn’t snuck through my mind. Whatever you do, don’t treat me like some breakable woman, this faerie or angel you’ve spoken of.”

    “The faeries and angels I create are badass, tough, able to take on the roughest, most rogue of warriors.”

    “Good to know,” she got out, despite the hitch in her breathing.

    He moved her hand, still on his face, to the side as he leaned in to kiss her. Brutish at first, his lips pressed to hers in that intoxicating line between pleasure and pain. His hand moved up to curl into her hair, grasp a handful and use it to tug her head back, gaining him more access, leaving her more exposed to his wiles.

    His lips and teeth scraped down over her chin to her neck, feasting there until she felt he’d take a chunk out of her flesh. Instead, he nibbled. He sucked. He licked over the red and warm skin he’d created.

    She grabbed at his arms to hold herself upright, his muscles bunched under her palms. Her fingers tried to dig in, to hold on, but there was no give to the sinewy mass of man she had hold of. As if he sensed her plight, his free arm circled her, pressed her against his body, holding her upright as her shaky legs failed to support her.

    A curvy, lightly muscled woman, she felt light in his grip. What she had of female softness melted up against all his rugged edges. And then, he let her go. With a shake of his head, he stepped back from her until he stepped out of the shadows of the entryway into the light of the bedroom. Standing up straight, his shoulders squared, and his feet planted firmly on the ground in an open stance. He appeared to be holding himself back from the verge of attack. With determined movements, he reached out for her hands and lured her further into the room.

    The sliding glass door on the far side of his cabin stood open. Another broken rule, the sign on the door posted that due to air-conditioning with central controls the doors to the decks had to remain closed to conserve energy. The sound of the water rushing against the fast moving ship added to the sense of danger that hadn’t let go of her, had kept her pulse racing since she’d started toward this forbidden room.

    “May I?’ His hands toyed with the straps of her dress.

    “No,” she answered, her shaky voice now steady. She’d found an allure in standing up for herself, taking what she wanted, too, in the face of such a beast. She’d never backed down before, never relinquished control, and she didn’t want to start now. She wanted not to tame this beast, but to control him like a trainer would, with respect for the danger the animal posed, while admiring the beauty of his wild strength.

    “I’m sorry,” he spoke, his voice so deep she could barely make out the words.

    “Don’t be. You first,” she demanded, standing up straighter herself.

    “I see.” He huffed, a twinkle in his darkening eyes.

    “No, I want to see.” She smirked.

    Closing the gap between them, she took to unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. Moving her hands over his broad shoulders she pushed the silk aside, let it fall to the floor. He stood like some statue of a Greek god come to life, only with a light bronze skin tone and the sharp lines of black tattoos. Up his arm, from wrist to bicep, the jagged lines appeared like flames. Softer and shorter versions of the same aimed downward from his shoulder, more flames in a war with the first, battling it out for space over the bulging of his arm muscles.

    This same look of fire licked around his six-pack abs, framing them, but never letting the ink mark an inch of the perfect definition of his waist. That illustrious v-taper of muscle that stood out just about the waist of his pants had ink on the left side only, dark flames that came from under his pants, followed the definition of his trim hips. His belt pulled tight, remained the only reason they were still on.

    “More,” she demanded, her arms rigid at her sides.

    “Feisty. I like it,” he growled, more animalistic than before.

    Yet, he obeyed. This thrilled her even more, to have such control over one so malevolent and brutish. She rode the high as he undid his belt with determined movements. His erection sprung up strong when he pushed his pants down past his hips. They soon hit the floor with a whoosh of material that sent goose bumps traveling up her arms. Unashamed, and why should he be, he stood still, controlled, only the bunching of his muscles, legs, chest, arms, gave her any hint of just what it took to remain as he was.

    “You’re perfection,” she breathed out.

    “I’m glad you think so. But, how long do you plan to make me just stand here like some statue in a museum? I’m not really perfect. And, I want you.”

    “You can wait. I’m an adventurer, remember? And, I have this need to explore such unchartered territory. Besides, I think I’m getting off on controlling such a dark beast as yourself.”

    “If that’s some challenge, then test me. I play games to win, so give it your best shot.” His voice steady, deep, daring.

    “I plan to.” She matched him, her voice at full volume, unwavering. The only hint of trembling came from excitement, not fear now.

    If this were an episode of Survivor, he’d be the island, beautiful with hidden dangers, and she’d play the game with confidence, and play it well, until she discovered where each gem and pearl lie hidden. She wouldn’t be voted off this island.

    Moving in, she stood to the side of his outstretched cock, careful not to touch it just yet. She traced her fingers over the tribal tattoo, as if she could find some veiled clue as to the man in his markings. If she could just read between the strong, and now trembling lines, she’d discover just what made him tick, and then make him hers for life. The errant thought gave her only a second’s pause before she stepped behind him.

    The dragon on his back looked about to fly away. Again, abstract, tribal in nature, there could be no mistaking the mythical creature and the power it held. Her hands now flat on his upper back, she kissed the head, and then the tips of the wings of this guardian image. The full symbolism of the creature suited this man.

    He groaned deep in his throat as her hands ran over his skin to his rock hard ass. The muscles flexed and then relaxed, letting her press with her fingertips until small white circles formed around her fingers. Lowering to her knees, she kissed him, bit him, and licked him, as he’d done to her neck, being consumed by the sensations even as she practically devoured the man. Her heart racing now, her stomach a tight coil, she followed each whim, kissed every inch of him she felt possessed to explore.

    Moving around to the front of him again, she took his length into her mouth, as much as she could handle, and felt the strain of a smile from her otherwise occupied mouth as she heard the catch of his breath in his throat.

    “Are you trying to kill me,” he hissed in a raspy voice, barely able to speak.

    His fists clenched by her ears, he obviously strained to resist touching her. Good beast, she thought as she let his erection fall from her mouth. Moving in under his wet cock, she took in the scent of him, all male, light sweat and some faint scent of soap. His balls hung heavy, but she nudged them with her nose before she caressed them with her lips. The taunt line of flesh between his legs she kissed, nuzzling into the most intimate part of his body. Her hands on his massive thighs, she felt the muscles there contract and shake.

    Whatever possessed her now, she gave into the raging, feral, impetuous drive. Kissing down the inside of his leg, she moved to his feet. Strong, thick, solid with veins now popping out on the top of them, she bowed of her own accord, and kissed all the way to his toes. What the hell, she had no problem worshiping this god of a man. Not tonight. She had no problems at all.

    She looked up at him, the whole of his body raged, each muscle tight with more veins bulging, as if he’d just finished a workout, a thin sheen of sweat glistened over his skin. Coming to stand, she took a few steps back to admire her work. The full body display he gave her, erect, tall, tight, stood juxtaposed to the waving of the soft, sheer curtain behind him.

    A rumble of thunder in the distance silenced the vicious crashing of the waves for a second as the boat ripped through the stormy seas. The energy of this, the sheer, white-hot thrill of the entire situation, gave her an electrified shiver that sparked a primitive need deep inside her to be taken, to unleash the monster she’d help create before her. Make up your mind! She wanted it all. One night would never be enough.

    Pushing past the dismal thoughts of the unknown future, with trembling fingers she moved the straps of her dress off her shoulders.

    “Stay,” she warned him, when she saw his biceps bunch.

    The sound that ripped from his throat was unrecognizable. She could only describe it as a small roar of frustration. She fully understood. Mimicking his stance, she undid her bra and slid off her panties in two quick motions, luxuriating in the feel of the silk rushing over her skin. His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed. His breathing rumbled from his chest in tumultuous waves of sound.

    When a streak of lightening lit the sky behind him, she released him with a phrase that made her giggle slightly as she braced for the impact.

    “Release the kraken.”


    Continue reading Forbidden by Kiki Howell at the following links:

    Amazon http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TJI5L58

    Barnes & Noble https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-forbidden-1758604-149.html

    All Romance Ebooks https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-forbidden-1758604-149.html

    Naughty Nights Press http://naughtynightspress.com/nnpstore2/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=6&products_id=121


    Image courtesy of Kiki Howell

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