TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Gale Stanley’s hot new M/M paranormal Romance On The Go™ Coywolf, now available from Evernight Publishing, Amazon, and other online retailers of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Gale!
Then one night, he finds his true mate and he’s forced to make a choice.
Logan set Rory on the wood floor. It would do, he’d slept on worse. Logan opened a cedar chest and took out a thick quilt. He laid it on the floor under a window. “It’s late. You can sleep here.” Logan pointed to the coverlet.” If you decide to shift, you can share my bed. It’s big enough for two.”
No thanks. But Rory couldn’t deny that he was tempted as he watched Logan undress. The man was sex on a stick with his strong jaw, straight nose, and dark intense eyes. Why were alphas always so damn good-looking? And straight as an arrow? Probably so they would attract the best bitches in the pack. Rory sighed. Logan looked even better with his clothes off. He had sexy chest hair and a dark curly bush that Rory wanted to bury his nose in. He imagined himself licking that half-hard dick to erectness. Down boy! He was tempted to shift, but good sense won out. If he didn’t stay in his fur, he would really be fucked.
Logan flopped onto the bed and lay flat on his back. He tugged on his cock until it stood straight up like a flagpole. Rory’s penis came out of its sheath and he whimpered. Thankfully, Logan was too busy jacking off to notice.
The Alpha bent his muscular legs and continued stroking his thick cock. The head flushed purple and pre-cum leaked from the slit. The musky scent drove Rory crazy. Slithering on his belly like a snake, Rory inched toward Logan’s dirty clothes on the floor. Rolling on them as best he could, he took comfort in Logan’s scent. But his gaze remained fixed on the man.
Panting now, Logan worked his cock harder and faster, tugging his balls with his other hand. His heavy breathing and the sound of his fist moving up and down his shaft made Rory hot and horny. Logan’s thighs went tense, and his hand moved so fast it blurred.
Rory’s anticipation built as he watched Logan stroke his hard length one final time. Thick threads of cum burst into the air. Rory ached to lick the creamy white liquid off Logan’s chest.
Logan stilled for a few minutes, and then glanced around the room. His eyes lit on Rory humping his jeans. Caught, Rory froze. A sly smile seemed to dance on Logan’s lips. His voice was low and sexy. “Pleasant dreams, boy.” Then he rolled over and promptly fell asleep.
Rory’s canine libido was in overdrive. A little more rubbing action on the denim and he shot his load. Then he settled down on the jeans, and in a few minutes his eyelids grew heavy, and he felt himself drifting off to sleep, too.
Where to Buy
About the Author
Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.
Some things never change.
Whee, it’s Wednesday! Which means it’s time to feature the lovely Ravenna Tate and her pyroclastic new romance Undeniable (Tortured Love 4), now available from Evernight Publishing, Amazon and other online retailers of fine erotic romance. Enjoy!
Rosanna Selim can’t recall almost two years of her life, but it hasn’t stopped her from loving her job as a paralegal with one of the top defense firms in Cleveland, Ohio. It also hasn’t affected her relationship with sexy, charming homicide detective, Houston Cassidy. Until he tells her about a twelve-year old case. As images invade both her waking and dreaming states, she’s certain that uncovering the truth means losing Houston.
Houston has been unlucky in love because of dedication to his job, so he’s determined not to screw things up with Rosanna. She’s sexy, beautiful, and the most easy going woman he’s ever met. He adores her. But when she tells him about the images, and as she works with a therapist to recover her memories, Houston has to come to terms with the possibility that she’s the killer in a case he’s been trying to solve for twelve years.
“I love it when you do that.”
“Are you sure?” He raised his brows. “I can wait a long time.”
“Oh yeah?” She shoved her hand between them and caressed his erect penis. “Doesn’t feel that way to me.”
The laugh she loved so much filled the space around them. “Appearances are deceiving.” Shivers ran up and down her spine as he kneaded her breasts. Even with her clothes still on, the effect was intoxicating. She massaged his shaft, aching for that dick to be inside her.
“You’re going to wait for it, babe.”
“Even with me doing this?”
One finger traced between her breasts, over her abdomen, and landed on her clit, where he rubbed hard. The movement forced her hand off his cock. “Now you can’t reach me.”
“I never tease.” He massaged her swollen bud through the jeans, but she definitely felt it.
“So what do you call this?”
“For being too damn sexy for your own good.”
“Weak, Houston. Very weak.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s the one squirming and begging right now?”
When he clamped his mouth on her groin through the denim, Rosanna cried out in pleasure. He was right. He’d nailed her. How the man had so much self-control was a mystery to her, but she loved it. She loved the teasing and she loved the way he made her so crazy with desire she wasn’t above begging him to fuck her.
“I’ll bet your hot pussy is soaking wet right now.”
“Why don’t you take off my jeans and find out?”
“Oh, I’ll take them off, but I’m not fucking you just yet. There’s something I keep promising you but haven’t delivered.”
“And what might that be?”
A wicked, sly grin had her wondering if she should have asked. Houston yanked off her jeans, taking her panties with them. He removed her socks and shoes, but instead of returning to what he’d been doing with that magic mouth a second ago, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her over one knee.
“Houston…” She was so surprised, she had no idea what to say.
“I’ve been threatening to spank you for weeks.” She gasped as he swatted each cheek, hard. He pinned her thighs with his right leg and held her across the lower back with his left hand. She couldn’t move, and the effect was so deliciously dominant that she nearly came.
“Tell me you’ve been a bad girl.” One more stinging smack on each cheek forced another gasp from her. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I’ve been a bad girl.” Her voice came out all breathy and low, but honestly, how could she help that? This was so over the top intoxicating that her clit began to throb.
“Yes, you have.”
“Oh my God!” He delivered five more blows to each cheek, alternating, and now they burned like fucking crazy. Each swat built on the next one, until she couldn’t distinguish the pleasure from the pain. The combined into one sweet, torturous sensation that sent shivers down her spine, and tiny contractions to her soaking wet pussy.
“Had enough yet, bad girl?”
“I don’t even know how to answer that.”
Houston rubbed the wounds he’d made, which forced loud moans from her as the intensity of the burn increased. “Not quite yet. You can take a bit more.”
Where to Buy
About the Author
Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, pumpkins! Today I’m featuring Jules Dixon and her hot new fairy tale romance Rescued By Love. And now, here’s Jules!
Aurora Jessen lives a life that would make a princess envious, but will her prince ever find her with her overprotective father hovering? When the infuriating Drexel Mason returns to town, his ability to get her to almost spontaneously orgasm while simultaneously making her want to stab him fascinates her, but a deadly accident reiterates the lack of control over her own life.
Drexel Mason’s childhood was more a scene from a nightmare than a tale of fated love. The memories make him cover his pain with a secret elixir, but Aurora’s kiss confiscates the lingering ache. When she accidentally takes his pain-killing potion, he’s given an opportunity to slay the dragon of his cruel past and release the prince hiding inside.
Will Drexel save his princess or will she continue waiting for true love in her ivory tower?
I rested my cheek against his shoulder and my nose brushed carelessly against his neck. His body stiffened and I wondered if it was from the touch or something else. I could hear his heart beating fast in his chest and the sound was comforting. I inhaled a deep breath and smirked.
His cologne isn’t that bad. Just takes time to get used to it.
“Drexel?” I asked.
“Why did you kiss me?”
“Yeah, I didn’t kiss you, Princess. You kissed me.”
I’ll show him Princess!
As if he knew I was going to try to get away, his hand pressed on my shoulder blade to hold my body to him.
I adjusted my head so I could look up at him again. “No, you kissed me, Drexel.”
“Don’t say my name like that,” I said through gritted teeth.
His lips grazed my ear. “Ah-roar-ah.” He pulled the life from every syllable until I needed the next one like the oxygen in my blood. “We both know that was an impulsive and uncontrolled Aurora kiss. It wasn’t a Drexel kiss. When I kiss you, it’s different than that kiss. I’m sure you remember what one of my kisses feels like, right?”
I ignored the question. To remember brought back memories I didn’t want to forget, but I’d pushed them down to move on with life like he had.
“You can’t tell me you didn’t like that kiss,” I hissed back.
“Didn’t say I didn’t like it. I’m saying I didn’t start the kiss, and I was only participating in being molested by your tongue because you seemed to be enjoying it.”
“I seem to remember your third leg was molesting me and would lead me to believe you were enjoying it.”
“Whatever.” He chuckled and my rising blood pressure made my face flush.
“Did you just ‘whatever’ me?”
“Just trying to speak your language.” His hand lowered and slipped into the open slit on the back of my dress. With his hand spread across my lower back, I could feel the tip of his pinkie just resting at the top of the split of my butt cheeks, sliding under the lace of my thong. Skin on skin.
I wiggled and shout-whispered in his ear, “Drexel, your hand!”
“Uh-huh, nice thong.” He was an excellent dancer, swaying our bodies in unison to the dreamy but sultry beat. He spun us at just the right moment, compelling the breath to exhale in excitement from my lungs. “What about my hand?”
My breathing shallowed and my body betrayed me, hardening my nipples. “Please, your hand.” A moan escaped my lips.
Drexel rumbled a soothing, manly murmur of appreciation in response. “Now, why can’t you be this Aurora all the time? So peaceful and graceful, and not pissing me off?”
Where to Buy
About the Author
Fuzzy sock collector, martini connoisseur, baseball fanatic, and dandelion lover, author Jules Dixon is a living testament to the genius of sugar and caffeine being able to keep a human alive. She’s addicted to everything related to the amazing emotion of love, probably instigated by her own happily ever after of 25 years with her beer-brewing hubby. Their own love story created a sassy, artistic daughter and a computer genius but ultra-sarcastic son.
Jules explores the rich psychology of sexuality, choices, and conflicts of high school, college, and young adult characters with sizzle and humor in her novels and novellas. She’s a busy writer, and she loves it!
Coming to Evernight Publishing April 24th:
OWNED BY THE ALPHA ANTHOLOGIES
The Alpha lives for the hunt…
Driven by instinct, an Alpha shifter recognizes his fated mate from one scent, one touch. He’ll pursue his woman, regardless of the cost, and anyone else would be smart to get out of his way. He won’t stop until he takes possession of his prize.
Although the hunter doesn’t need convincing, his mate certainly does. The Alpha will have to prove himself as a lover and convince his woman that he plays for keeps.
Scent of Destiny by Rose Wulf
Taken Mate by Sam Crescent
Finders Keepers by Stacey Espino
The Hunt by Doris O’Connor
Alpha at Altitude by Lily Harlem
Fated to the Razorback Demon by Maia Dylan
Running Home by Michelle Graham
Alpha’s Sunshine by Elyzabeth M. VaLey
Checkmate by Wren Michaels
Frozen Heart by Beth D. Carter
Wolf Hunter by Elena Kincaid
Returning to the Coyote by Roberta Winchester
A Tiger’s Luck by Maia Dylan
Last Alpha Standing by James Cox
Mooncrest by Jules Dixon
His Guardian Panther by Elena Kincaid
The Scarf by L.J. Longo
A Matter of Trust by Pelaam
Conflict of Interest by L.D. Blakeley
Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, petals! Today I’m here with Raven McAllan, writing as Kera Faire, and her smouldering new dark romance The Furnace Man (Death Isle 1), now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, ma’am!
Hi all, Raven chatting.
It’s so lovely to be here, and talking about The Furnace Man, the latest book by Kera Faire, my dark side.
I’m very lucky having two author sides of me, as I can indulge what I like doing best—creating stories with a happy ever after—in so many different ways. I just swap hats so to speak. It might not work for everyone, but it does for me.
This series, Dark Isle, is darker than my Raven stories. Mainly set around an island on Loch Lomond, in Scotland, The Furnace Man takes a bit of a new track, by starting in a glass works in Yorkshire. I just happened to go to the grand opening of a new furnace, and got chatting. The Furnace Man is the result.
Of course we end up on Dark Isle…also known aptly as Death Isle, an island in Loch Lomond, which is handy as it is not that far from where I live. Good excuse to procrastinate and well, enjoy the scenery. A flask of coffee, a g-f biscuit or three and my lap top. Perfect. Well I hope so.
It might be a standing joke around the glass factory—he’ll mix you with the sand and burn you, leaving nothing left to discover—but Lindsey Earnshaw is about to find out the truth behind it.
Placed there to spy on the place on behalf of the government, a warning message brings forth not only a dead body, but also the one man she’s never forgotten.
Michael Hoult cannot believe his eyes, when his ex-wife turns out to be the receptionist on duty. Having to drug her in order to not blow his cover will not earn him her renewed submission, neither will whisking her away to the Death Isle.
Duty first, though. It cost him his marriage all those years ago, but with Lindsey now working for the same side, can they not only catch a killer, but also rediscover each other?
“Nice now, safe word or suck me off.” He waited as she gulped and hesitated. She swayed towards him and straightened. Many people didn’t involve sex in their play; he and Lindsey always had and that was how he wanted it to be now. However, he remembered oral was something she’d never been keen on and eventually said it was a soft limit. It had never changed and nor had she gone down on him more than a few times, and never ever swallowed his cum. Not something he’d ever encountered before or indeed after Lindsey. She’d tried and after gagging and throwing up, had said swallowing was a big fat red no-no. He’d accepted it, but had missed that special closeness only being jerked off by your partner could bring. But Lindsey was his lady, his sub, he had loved her—still did—and her pleasure came first.
Perhaps it was unfair to throw her into this scenario so quickly, but he knew his pet. She could go round the houses for ever. He intended to show her he would not be fazed or upset by her limits whatever.
“Pet, you need to tell me where you are in this. Safe word.” He rapped his demands out. “Now.”
“Green to lick,” she said so softly he had to strain to hear. “I hope.” She took his cock in between her hands and delicately licked the head.
His pre-cum leaked fast and furious and she drew back and looked at it.
Typical. The one time I could do with it taking its time it comes like the clappers.
“It’s fine,” she said with awe in her voice. “Green.” She took more of his length in her mouth and began to nibble and suck.
He saw stars as the tug and pull became stronger. God almighty, did she know the affect she was having on him? He was going to come if she didn’t slow down or pull back.
“Pet, enough, I’m about to shoot.” Michael tugged her hair, hard enough to make her release him. Or so he hoped.
“Lindsey. Pet, stop now.” Did he sound Dom-like enough? It was bloody hard when half of him would like no more than to fuck her mouth until he filled it with cum, and watched the excess run down her cheeks. But he didn’t truly want to. Not yet. Baby steps.
His command evidently got to her because she moved her mouth from his with a gentle plop. The confusion and hurt in her eyes hit him. “Pet, baby steps,” he said softly as he helped her to her feet. “I would happily fill your mouth and fuck it. But, not today. We have so much more to explore and hopefully have a lifetime to do everything in.” Would she understand without him getting too graphic? “I want to fuck your sweet pussy. Fill you that way. Relearn how you sigh and how well our bodies mesh. Make you scream as you come. Shudder and shake for me. Show you how much I love you, have never stopped loving you, and want this to be our happy ever after.”
Lindsey sighed and her eyes became misty. “Sir, My Michael, oh yes. I feel the same. You are mine. My lover, my friend and my Sir. I want it all as well.”
“First then.” Michael paused, tugged off her cardigan and threw it onto the floor. That’s better. Now…” He unzipped her jeans so he could run one finger around her pantie leg. “Firstly, I want you naked so I can spank your sweet ass until it’s the rosy color of that cushion over there.” He slid her panties and jeans down her legs and helped her step out of them. “I want to see my hand print and know that outline shows you are mine. Arms up.” Her t-shirt followed the cardigan. “Stand still, just like that with your arms up. Don’t lower them.”
Michael waited as she did as he demanded, grabbed her ass hard to keep her in place and lowered his lips to the lacy cups of her bra.
And sucked hard.
Lindsey bucked. “Oh grief oh my, oh hell…Oh god, green bloody green.”
He took that as a good sign, let go of her nipples and ignored her moan as he blew on each hard nub in turn. Deftly he unclipped her bra and flung it in the direction of the rest of her clothes. Now he wished he’d taken her to the playroom. He knew no one was playing in it and he had a cupboard full of delicious things he could use on her. All still new and in their packets. Here, he’d have to be innovative and make do.
At least he had his hands. Michael unclenched his fingers and watched her pupils dilate as he smacked her ass a couple of times. “What color are clothes pegs?” he asked casually. “Specifically on your breasts, nipples and ass.”
“Clo… Pegs?” Her voice rose to a high-pitched squeak. “Pegs on my…oh my…” She blinked. “Can you?”
Michael smiled. “Oh yes. But maybe not yet?”
She nodded. “Perhaps not. I need to rediscover pain, I reckon. Let’s say yellow.”
“Then maybe we should start.” He pondered for a moment. “Here, I think.” He sat on the nearest chair and pulled her to lie over his lap, head to one side, legs to the other. “Color, pet?”
He could visualize her rolling her eyes at him for being so insistent. However she answered him readily, and politely. “Green, Sir.”
“Then, pet, count. Ten on each side and then I’m going to fuck your wet and willing pussy.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said fervently.
Michael laughed as he raised his hand. He hit her right buttock firmly and then rubbed away the sting as she gasped.
“Good girl.” He repeated the actions on the other globe. By six on each side Lindsey was writhing and he opened his legs enough to reach between them and pinch her clit hard. “No coming or I’ll stop now.”
“Eh?” She sounded dazed. “F…flip, no…no. Don’t stop.”
Where to Buy
About the Author
Raven/Kera lives in Scotland, along with her husband and their two cats—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.
A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she’s strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.
Her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.
Whee, it’s Wednesday! Which means it’s time to feature the lovely Elyzabeth M. Valey and her hot new paranormal romance Seamus’s Mate (Alpha Protectors 2), now available from Evernight Publishing, Amazon and other online retailers of fine erotic romance. Enjoy!
When Seamus discovers Kaila is in danger he sets out to save her. He couldn’t care less that she doesn’t want him there. His objective in life is to love and protect her. Besides, she might refuse to be with him, but her body knows better. With both their lives on the line, she can’t say no to his aid, can she?
For years, she has ignored her feelings. Kaila’s mission was supposed to be easy: enter the demon’s lair and save her sister. Then, he came along. For close to twenty years she has been fighting against the mating pull. She has avoided Seamus at all costs, but now they’re both trapped in hell and she has nowhere to run, except, maybe, into his arms.
“Wait up, Kaila.”
She didn’t acknowledge him, and he rushed to catch up with her. He grasped her wrist, spinning her around with force.
“Didn’t you hear me?” he asked.
Kaila’s gaze narrowed. Her lips pursed into an ugly grimace.
“Let go of me, Seamus. Why don’t you let this weak human die already?” She poked him in the chest with her index finger. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
Seamus scrubbed a hand over his face. “What is wrong with you? You’re not making any sense. I know you didn’t ask for my help. I gave it freely, but you aren’t going to deny that we are different, are you?”
Blinding rage took over him. Seamus dug his fingers into her arm. He was tired of all this nonsense. He pulled her closer. Her arm shot out to keep him away, but not fast enough. He swooped down and claimed her lips. She gasped, and he seized the chance to push his tongue into her warm recess. He groaned. She tasted better than he remembered. For a brief moment, she grappled with him, attempting to break lose, but he grabbed her arms with ease and held them behind her back.
He twisted his tongue around hers, drawing it out from its reluctance and forcing it to battle with his. Something in his chest tightened as she responded. Yes. He sucked and tugged and demanded more. She gave it to him. Her body arched against his, her mouth seeking his with almost as much desperation as he possessed. His hold on her slackened. He wanted to touch her everywhere. To press his lips to her body and taste every inch of her. His hand trailed to the curve of her ass, then to her waist. Then, bang! Her knee slammed against his leg. He released her, cursing. He’d probably be incapacitated for life if she’d hit her mark.
“Fuck you, Seamus.”
“Whenever you want, babe. I know you’ve got the hots for me, even if you just tried to castrate me and failed miserably.” He laughed.
Kaila spun and walked away from him again. She was probably not trying to be sultry, but her hips swayed in that way that drove a man to stare. She lifted her arm and gave him the finger. He grinned. She was pissed and sexy. He loved it.
Seamus took in a shaky breath. Watching her back on her feet, her spirit alive and surging, was soothing. He rubbed at the spot where she’d kneed him. It hurt, but it was proof that she was herself again, not lying in a puddle of blood, shredded to pieces by a monster. He glanced at the Dream Catcher’s skeleton out of the corner of his eye. He hadn’t told Kaila the details of what he’d suffered inside the beast. The images of her dead body, broken, destroyed. He didn’t wish his worst enemy a fate like that.
He stretched his wings and snapped them back into place. Even they ached. He adjusted his now-flaccid cock and shuddered. He hurried after Kaila. The place appeared deserted. There were no scones in the wall giving off light. Instead, the walls themselves seemed to pulse with energy. They glowed from the inside as if behind them a relentless flame burned. He frowned. He extended his arm and placed his pinkie on the rock. It burned.
“Damn it.” He put the digit in his mouth, hoping to sooth the sting. “Don’t touch the walls, babe. They’re hot.”
Kaila didn’t reply, but she moved a little closer to the center of the path.
Where to Buy
About the Author
Elyzabeth M. VaLey is a writer of sizzling, sexy romance who firmly believes in happy ever after. From paranormal to contemporary, fantasy, or historical, she enjoys exploring her characters’ darker side and writing stories about tortured heroes, strong heroines, and all that comes between them and their love.
When she’s not writing, she can be found walking in the Spanish countryside with her black Lab, exploring castles, or enjoying some tapas with her friends.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to the darling (and muy prolific) Doris O’Connor, whose sizzling new shifter romance Claiming His Human (The Projects 6) is now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. And now, here’s Doris!
Thank you so much for hosting my new release on your blog today. Claiming his Human is book 6 in The Projects series, and readers will meet many a familiar face from the previous books.
Don’t worry, though, you do not have to read the previous books in the series, unless you’d like to, of course.
Darius knows Holly is his from the first whiff of her scent in the air. Holly needs some convincing… especially when she finds out that the man she’s been lusting after turns into a huge grizzly bear.
Bear shifter Darius Longton never expected to find his mate in his favorite coffee shop, but one sniff of her scent in the air is all it takes for his bear to know the truth. This delicious, sinfully curvy redhead is his.
Too bad she’s human and far too fragile for his volatile bear.
Holly Trent cannot understand the instant attraction she feels for this man. One look from his heavy-lidded eyes is all it takes to set her knickers aflame with lust. However, she will not be another notch on his bedpost, no matter how much his voice alone makes her want to sink to her knees.
But when a customer gets heavy with her, everything changes. Darius’s defense of her places them both in terrible danger. Thrown headfirst into shifter council politics, it falls to Holly to save her mate.
Darius’s eyes flashed from golden to brown and back again, and she lost herself in the intensity of his gaze.
“Holly, what are you doing?” he asked. The gravelly timbre of his voice shot straight to every one of her erogenous zones, not least because his scent increased and wrapped her into a cocoon of his earthy, spicy presence.
“I don’t know. I just want … please … I need.”
A hiss escaped him when she lowered herself back down on his lap and ground her by now sodden crotch over his cock.
Another one of those earth-shattering deep rumbles came from the man she was dry humping like some sort of wanton hussy, and in the next instant, his large fingers dug into her hips with enough force to leave bruises. Shivers of apprehension, or excitement, she wasn’t sure which raced down her spine.
Darius lowered his head so that their foreheads touched. Their breaths mingled, and the world stood still, as she waited for him to move, to do something, anything.
She couldn’t get her voice to work past the huge lump of emotion which clogged up her throat, so she simply breached the distance between them and pressed her lips against his. His groan rumbled through her, and then he took charge of the kiss. Just like before, their surroundings faded into the background, as he deepened the kiss, and she gave herself up to the myriad of sensations that immediately assaulted her. With his hands firmly clamped around her hips, she couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but tug at the strands of his hair which had come loose from his ponytail. The action seemed to incite his bear, because he broke the kiss, and ran his nose along her neck, inhaling deeply.
“Fuck, Holly, you better be sure, because all I want to do is push those panties away and bury myself deep inside your sweet cunt until you have no doubt who you belong to.”
He yanked her up slightly while he traced one hand along her hip until he could cup her pussy.
“So fucking wet for me, little one.”
Incapable of uttering anything but incoherent moans, Holly rubbed herself against that hand.
“Oh, yeah, I can smell your need. Tell me this pussy is mine. Ask me for my cock. I need to hear you say the words, my sweet.”
His voice, full of heated promise, didn’t sound like him at all, more animal than human, and she responded to the almost desperate tones in kind.
“Just fuck me already, will you?”
A sharp tug on her hair brought tears to her eyes, and she whined her disappointment when he pulled back to study her. Try as she might she couldn’t close the distance between them.
“Ask me nicely, girl, or I’ll stop this instant.”
Holly’s flippant reply stuck in her throat when she properly looked at him because the determination edged in his hungry features told their own story. He meant what he’d said, and despite the massive erection tenting his suit trousers, which must cost him dearly, he would get up and leave her wanting. His thighs flexed under hers, and Holly swallowed hard when he released his grip on her hair and grasped her wrists instead. She was no match for his superior strength, even if she had tried to resist him, as he slowly pulled her hands away from him, and pinned them behind her back. The action thrust her breasts out at him, and her breathing sped up when his gaze slowly dipped lower until it rested on her straining cleavage. Her nipples pushed against the fabric of her lacy bra, hard little beacons of lust pointing straight at Darius, positively begging for his attention. Darius transferred both her wrists into one of his large hands and then slowly brought his free hand into view. His knuckles skimmed across the hypersensitive tips of her nipples, and Holly whimpered her need.
A wicked grin flashed across his features, and he repeated the action several times until Holly was pretty sure she would self-combust if he didn’t do something else. Incomprehensible sounds spilled from her lips, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the sight of his large, tanned hand against her pale flesh.
“Hmm, so beautifully responsive, my sweet. I bet you could come from this alone.”
Holly gasped in fascination as one of his fingernails formed into a wicked-looking claw, and he used that lethally sharp appendage to run ever tightening circles around first one nipple and then the other until Holly thought she would scream. When he added another claw to lightly score her skin the pleasure pain acted like a livewire of electricity connected her clit to her boobs.
Her hips took on a life of their own, and her pussy muscles clenched and released desperate for his cock to fill her.
“Please, I need to … please, Sir, I want your cock.”
The words were out of her mouth before her brain had even cottoned on to what she was saying. Darius stilled, his eyes flashed fire at her, and for the first time since she’d initiated this, a trickle of fear snaked up her spine. Not enough for her to put a stop to this, whatever this insanity which seemed to hold her in its grip would amount to, but enough to make her already far too fast heartbeat turn into a sledgehammer inside her chest.
Her vision dimmed, and all reasoning fled her brain in a puff of smoke because Darius looked more animal than human. He looked as though he wanted to eat her alive, and before she could even fathom his intention, her hands were free. The audible rip of her knickers giving way, as he tore them off her sounded far too loud in the quiet room, and then his fingers slipped inside her pussy and she groaned in need. Her head fell forward on his shoulders, even as she instinctively spread her thighs wider apart to give his questing digits better access.
“You’re so fucking wet, my sweet. Come for me, baby.”
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About the Author
Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
Happily married for the last twenty-five years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.
TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Ravenna Tate’s new book Relentless (Tortured Love 3), now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Ravenna!
For years, Blake the Snake, as he was known to his Alpha Chi Gamma brothers, took pictures of the conquests of auction winners having sex with their “prizes” at the fraternity’s annual Spring Bacchanalia. It was all in fun, until he stopped a young woman from being raped by the football player who had won her.
From that moment on, Blake Bombay’s life changed forever. He became obsessed with Kendra Kensington, and worked tirelessly to keep her safe. While watching her from afar, he plotted and planned for the day when she would be his. Trouble was, she didn’t know it. She never saw his face that night or learned his name. But that didn’t matter to Blake. She was his. She had always been his, and one day she would be his forever.
“Oh, wait. What have we here?” He turned her around so her back faced him, and brushed his hand across her soaking wet slit. “Oh, Kendra…”
There was no answer. She couldn’t even moan. She was lost in the heady sensations once more of his hands on her, caressing her in exactly the right way to bring an orgasm close. He played with her clit, teasing it until Kendra’s moans grew loud, and she pushed back against him, wanting more.
“What should I do with you, you naughty girl?”
Oh, what a question! “Anything you want.”
His soft chuckle sent a thrill racing through her. “You might regret saying that.”
“Not a chance.” Every cell in her body tingled with desire.
When he lifted her skirt, he brushed his hand over her ass cheeks, alternating them. “You really do have a beautiful ass.”
“Thank you.” She was out of her mind with need. Nothing existed except his touch on her skin.
The swats on her ass were light at first, but Kendra had to hang onto him once he began. She’d never been so turned on in her life. Her clit contracted in tiny spasms as the strikes grew harder, burning now each time he hit her. But at the same time, Kendra didn’t want him to stop. Her climax inched closer when she flexed her Kegel muscles, sending shockwaves of desire racing through her groin and out to her fingers and toes.
“Let’s see how much you like this.” He brushed his fingers over her labia. “Oh, wow. I’d say a lot.”
The giggles turned to moans when he pushed two fingers into her pussy. Blake kissed her neck as he finger-fucked her, his thumb now rubbing her clit in time to his thrusts. She clutched his arm for support as a crazy orgasm began, and when he realized what was happening, he bent her over the table until her she rested face down on the surface. Her torso was supported, but her ass was bare.
“Please don’t stop, Blake.”
“I won’t, sweetheart.” He continued moving his fingers in out of her until the climax finished. She was so wet, Kendra heard slurping sounds when he finally removed his digits from inside her pussy.
“Oh, fuck.” Blake spanked her a few more times on each cheek, harder this time, before she heard the sound of a zipper. “I can’t wait, Kendra. I’ve never done anything so fucking sexy in my life.”
The tip of his dick rubbed her ass cheeks, and Kendra was certain she’d go out of her mind long before he got it inside her. He ran one finger along the crack of her ass.
“I’m going to fuck you right here, on this table. What do you think about that?”
“Oh, Kendra…” He grasped her right hip and slid his cock into her pussy, groaning loudly. Kendra cried out in pleasure as he slammed into her. His thrusts were quick and powerful, and she loved it. Being taken like this, still fully clothed and bent over the dining room table, was the kinkiest thing she’d ever done.
While David Bowie sang about his China girl, Blake fucked her like a runaway train. When he massaged her clit again, another climax tore through her, making her dizzy with its intensity.
“Kendra … oh my God, this feels so damn fantastic!”
Where to Buy
About the Author
Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, pumpkins! Today I’m featuring Lynn Burke and her hot new ménage novel The Playboy Bachelor. And now, here’s Lynn!
Dubbed Boston’s bachelor of the year, Blake Harper knows how to make the North Shore’s women sigh and say yes…except for the studious Wren Shipman. The more she resists, the more he’s compelled to pursue the little birdie, conquer her, and flee to save himself from a fall he’s never wanted.
Wren would love nothing more than to dig her fingernails into Blake’s back and squeeze the life from him with her thighs. But she’s not interested in being another notch in the billionaire bachelor’s string of shapely sweethearts—not when she’s so close to earning the precious college degree that will help her rise above the trailer-trash stench she was born into.
With his best friend’s help, the playboy’s persistence wears on the young co-ed, until he has the little bird soaring from every fantasy he fulfills. What goes up must come down, and when Wren finds herself falling hard and fast towards a bitter reality, she’ll do anything to save her heart from shattering. Even if it means walking away from the only man who had the passion to make her fly.
“Dance with me,” he said, pushing to his feet and holding out his hand.
I’d rather get right to the fucking, I thought, but I took his hand anyway, cursing myself with every erotic sway of our tightly pressed bodies. His hard cock pressed against my belly, his large hand palmed my ass.
I dug my fingernails into the back of his neck, closed my eyes, and leaned my forehead against his rock-like chest. He smelled ten times better than chocolate; woodsy, sexy man … I wanted a bite. “You drive me insane.” I heard myself whisper.
Blake’s other hand palmed my ass, and he lifted me higher.
My legs wrapped around his waist and squeezed as our mouths crashed together. His groans filled my ears as his fingers dug into my backside. I’d bruise for sure, I thought, pulling his hair to angle his head so I could bite his lower lip.
“Fuck,” he gasped as I bit harder. He ground his cock against my soaked core, and I repeated his curse over the fact clothing separated our bodies. His mouth released from my hold, Blake kissed along my jaw, down my neck, and back up to my ear as I squirmed in his hold. He bit my earlobe, and I winced, my panties useless to contain my arousal.
“I want to fuck you, Wren. Right here. Right now.”
I shimmied out of his arms, and he tugged my tank top off. In my rush to get his shirt open, I heard a few buttons ping off the furniture as they flew. Holy shit, his bare chest. I licked across one pec and bit the hard nub on the other.
“Goddamn it, woman.” He all but ripped off my skirt, the material floating to the floor.
Panting—heaving for breath—we stepped apart, hungry gazes drinking in the other. His eyes set my skin aflame, and I swallowed, nails digging into my palms, as I studied every curve and indent of his sinful upper body. The luscious V of muscle disappearing beneath his jeans flooded my mouth with drool and my pussy with cream.
“Lose the jeans,” I said, my voice raspy and low.
“Lose the bra and panties,” he replied, reaching for his zipper.
A quick rustle of clothing and we both stood naked, his jutting cock drawing my gaze. “Condom,” I whispered, every inch of my body thrumming.
Blake fished one from the back pocket of his jeans, ripped it open, and rolled it on. Two steps forward, and he tangled a hand in my hair, his other hand gripping my thigh to hoist me up.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and wiggled around, trying to line up his cock with my dripping core. He attacked my mouth, striding across the room.
My back slammed into a wall, ripping a gasp from me, but Blake swallowed the noise and thrust into me, balls deep and perfect.
Where to Buy
About Lynn Burke
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Naomi Clark and her smouldering new shifter book In Cold Blood. Take it away, Naomi!
Hi there! Thanks for having me today and letting me share a bit about my new release, IN COLD BLOOD. This is a spin-off from my Urban Wolf series, set in the same world but featuring new characters. My goal with every entry in the Urban Wolf series is to open the world up a little bit more. SILVER KISS gives us a good, solid starting point with werewolves. BLOOD HUNT introduces vampires. PHANTOM FEARS teases the idea of ghosts, and COLD NIGHT MOON gives us fae creatures (or one, at any rate). With IN COLD BLOOD, my idea was that, well, someone had to be noticing all these weird and wonderful creepy beasties. And someone would be keeping notes…This will tie directly into the plot of the next Urban Wolf book, which will take us back to Ayla and Shannon. The circle of life, etc.
IN COLD BLOOD is the first of a planned trilogy about Phoebe, Aisling, and the Luporum. I already have book 2 mostly planned out (in my head, anyway), but my aim is write that Ayla and Shannon book first. So if you enjoy IN COLD BLOOD, rest assured that there’ll be more from my socially awkward werewolves in love – and the Urban Wolf series in general! – in the future 🙂 Happy reading!
You can find the complete Urban Wolf series, in reading order, at my blog here – http://naomiclarkwrites.blogspot.co.uk/p/urban-fantasy.html
Phoebe Fairley wanted to be a librarian. Somehow, she’s become a vampire hunter. Women are dying across the country and the police are baffled. Phoebe’s just supposed to be gathering information on the deaths, but as the body count mounts, she can’t help but break the rules and get involved. She knows what the killer is—and catching and containing it is vital. If she can persuade the police to believe her, and keep her secretive bosses happy, she stands a chance of capturing a very real, very deadly vampire. Not bad for a werewolf who can’t shapeshift.
Aisling is happy living as a feral wolf. She’s got no time for human affairs, until a mysterious creature attacks her and leaves her in human hands. Now, if she wants her life back, she’ll have to join Phoebe’s hunt. There are just a couple of snags. One, she hates humans. And two, she’s falling hard for Phoebe. With a monster to catch and her own past to protect, will Aisling trust her head or her heart?
The scene inside the barn was surreal. Two big floodlights overhead lit the barn in glaring white. Half the huge space was taken up with sheep, penned off from the drama but still hysterically bleating and milling together. A grizzled man in a tattered dressing gown and Wellington boots – surely the farmer – leaned into the pen, talking non-stop to the frightened animals. Bales of hay were piled high around the rest of the barn, looking to Phoebe like they might come toppling down any second. They formed a rough arena for the main drama. Two more men held down a naked woman. She thrashed in their grip, tossing her matted red hair and snarling with a viciousness that made Phoebe’s wolf cower. This was their victim, this mad, wild thing?
Spalding hurried over to the farmer and Gibbs ran to the paramedics. They had to be wolves, from the strength they were displaying, but the woman was making them work to keep her still. Phoebe hesitated before following Gibbs – at a distance. Observe, Spalding had said. That was fine. Observing was all she was meant to do. The question was, what exactly was she seeing? The victim of a vampire attack or a feral wolf gone mad? She couldn’t help but lean towards the latter. Perhaps the woman thought the sheep would be easy pickings, but something had gone wrong. Maybe she’d been startled by the farmer or a guard dog. Phoebe had noticed a kennel outside the barn, although there was no sign of a dog now.
As she got closer, she saw the woman’s hands and feet were caked in mud, and there were thin red scratches all over her pale skin. Dried blood on her chest, too, although her endless thrashing made it hard to see where the original wound was. She stopped a few feet away, watching as Gibbs crouched down before the woman and – daringly, Phoebe thought – gripped her chin firmly. She was surprised he didn’t get his fingers bitten off.
The woman growled but couldn’t pull free of Gibbs’ hold. He growled right back, with a force and venom that made Phoebe quake. Did they teach that in training?
For a minute, the pair seemed locked in battle, the woman struggling against all three men in vain while she snarled at Gibbs. He didn’t flinch or loosen his grip, and kept his own domineering growl rumbling on, rising in pitch. The sheep grew more frantic and both the farmer and Spalding yelled at them with a mixture of anger and desperation. Phoebe felt battered, all the noise and tumultuous emotion like an assault. She wanted to run. She forced herself to stay, watching as Gibbs tried to inflict his will on the woman.
As much as pop culture got muddled with myth, some things were always true, just as much for wolves as humans. Some people were simply more dominant than others. Gibbs’ laid-back, clownish persona was all gone now as he pinned the woman down with both his body and his eyes. Phoebe would have caved already, if she’d even had it in her to resist. The woman, whatever her mental state might be, was not so easily dominated. But after what felt like an age, she slumped, stopped fighting, and went still.
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About Naomi Clark
Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she’s not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she’s hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn’t available, she’s with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.