Friend Friday ~ Rosanna Leo

Why I Love Paranormal Men

     I remember the first time a supernatural being turned my crank.  It was a delicious sensation and so new.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’ve been reading about ghosts and vampires since I was a kid, but Count Dracula and Nosferatu never managed to turn me on. 

     Count Chocula stood a better chance. 

     But then I saw the sublime Gary Oldman in the role of the afore-mentioned fanged nobleman.  Something changed in young Rosanna that day.  Something indefinable and wonderful was awakened in me.

     It was the first time a paranormal creature made my heart race for reasons other than fear.  Picture Gary if you will.  The velvet coats and top hats.  The brooding.  The pale skin and the broken heart.  Scrumptious.

     I’ve had a lot of time to consider it and have come to the following conclusion: there’s something incredibly appealing about the idea of an immortal man pining for me for an eternity.  With an undead lover, that is indeed a possibility.

     However, it’s not simply longevity that appeals to me.  Think of your favorite paranormal hero.  Generally he possesses other choice traits as well.  Superhuman strength is generally a given.  That’s a big plus.  Speaking as a woman who often has trouble opening jars, a hero with great brawn is a huge score.

     There’s also something to be said for lovemaking abilities.  Envision a Greek god or a centuries-old vampire or even a werewolf who ages at a slow pace.  These guys have been around the block once or twice.  It stands to reason that they might have picked up some interesting tricks for the bedroom…or graveyard, or your choice of venue.

     They’re also usually well-travelled.  I like that in a man.  I love the idea that my paranormal lover might have fought on the battlefield at Culloden or worn a toga in ancient Greece, or even danced at a Regency ball.  Think of the conversation!  If you choose to indulge in conversation, that is.

     As much as I adore the heroes of our modern world, I relish a tale with a sexy supernatural.  Be he Fae or were, vamp or god, send them all my way.

     I have a few good ideas what to do with them! 


New Release: Up in Flames

Buy Link Amazon

Juliet Baker is not looking forward to coming home after six months. Yes, the fiery brunette wants to make a go of turning her parents' farmhouse into a B&B. She’s just not looking forward to seeing the place where they died. To make things worse, she knows she'll finally have to face her cheating, firefighter ex-boyfriend.

Luckily, her sister has found Jules a boarder. Easy money, right? Not when she realizes the boarder is Captain Shane Gaskill. Not only is Shane a firefighter, he’s the town's hot new fire captain.

Jules is determined to hate all firefighters. After all, the men of that precious brotherhood protected her cheating ex. Shane, however, proves he’s different from the start. He's protective and kind, and she can't stop looking at his smoking, Viking-hot body. She learns, though, that Shane isn't so willing to love again either. He's been hurt, too. They both fight the sexual chemistry, and resulting tenderness, between them. But when a stalker begins to target Jules, they realize they can't fight their desire forever.

As the threats escalate, Shane and Jules are thrown together. The resulting passion overwhelms them.  But are they willing to trust each other and surrender to the flames of love?

Be sure to visit Rosanna's blog 

Thursday Thoughts ~ When a Heart

When a Heart

By Heaven O’Shey

When a heart

Finds one it loves

It is filled with joy

Becomes whole

Skips a beat at the thought of its love

Waits with bated breath to

Hear the voice it loves

Feel its love’s touch

Just to look in its love’s eyes

Willing to lay down its life

For the one it loves

Its only request

To be loved

In return

Tie Me Up Tuesday ~ Where's the Rope?

This week's Tie Me Up Tuesday is written by Sara BC.


After undressing me, you place me on my back on the bed. Leaning over me, you grasp my hands in yours and kiss my palms. As you stretch my arms over my head, you command, with a seductive growl. "Close your eyes, sara. Grip the headboard. Don't let go and don't move."


My body trembles as it awaits being bound. I've known this test was coming, and yet my trust overrides my fears.


Your hands gently and firmly part my thighs as your fingertips move slowly up and down them. Separating my legs further, you position my feet at opposite ends of the foot board.

Again, you lean close to my ear and remind me not to resist and not to move. Still, I breathe deeply, awaiting the ropes and trying to calm myself.


When you tease and tantalize me further with your tongue and fingertips, a moan cannot help but escape my quivering lips. My body on fire, as I struggle to remain still, I blurt out a gasping plea. "Master, please may I..."

The harshness of your voice startles me. "Not yet!"

Then more gently you add. "Wait my pet."


My breathing becomes more rapid. 

The hot, tender, throbbing clitoris you flick over and over sends lightning bolts through me as fluid drips from my folds and I tighten my grip on the headboard.

"Please Master" comes out in a whine, and I realize my absolute desperation.

Once more you deny me, as you continue to probe, lick, suck, kiss, pull, flick, and squeeze.


My breathing becomes more ragged now, I feel my hips wanting to squirm and my back almost involuntarily arching. Tears well up, and one streams down my cheek, as I sniffle and try to stifle a sob. After all this time, it seems I am going to fail you.


You cease your ministrations, lean closer, and softly say, " Come now sara"


My senses explode in the curiously painful yet sweet release. Hearing a scream, I realize it is me, and yet I am unable to stop. The intensity of spasms rock me and wring me out, while I ride wave after wave of ecstasy.

When the throbbing and muscle spasms wane, I feel my body collapsing back onto the bed. It is drained and sated, still tingling and twitching with after shocks. My screams have turned to halting whimpers and mewling sounds.

You move my arms to my sides, then enfold me in your embrace telling me what a good girl I am and how proud of me and pleased with me you are.

Stroking and caressing my cheek, you add, "Your surrender and obedience are so complete, my pet, that they bind you to me more securely than any rope or chain ever could. Such devices are superfluous with a woman like you. I am so glad you're mine."


You are right, of course. I am yours, and I know now that I am bound to you forever by my submission and my love. 

Memorial Monday ~ Lest We Forget

"To those who have fought for it, freedom has a flavor the protected will never know." ~Source Unknown~


Memorial Day is meant to honor the members of the United States Military, especially those brave men and women who made the ultimate and irrevocable sacrifice for our nation's freedom.


In doing this, we also honor not only those who have served, but also those currently serving, and especially those still in harm's way.


Someone once said there is no such thing as an unwounded soldier who has been in a war zone. Not all wounds are visible to the naked eye. There may be no external scars, missing limbs, or other apparent disability; however, young men and women who have seen combat often bear less obvious but lasting scars on their minds and their souls.


Today, as we gather with family and friends to picnic, party, and BBQ, bow your head in prayers and thanksgiving in remembrance of the souls lost so you may be free.


It is the least we can do.

Soul Mate Sunday ~ More Than a Hot Bod

Physical attraction is usually the first sign of chemistry between to people. However, a relationship cannot be built on looks alone. So forget about having the trophy partner on your arm, because that will never work, for a soul mate is much more than a hot bod.

When searching for your soul mate, look for qualities in a person that will complement your own. These qualities will build a lasting relationship.

Sara BC has some thoughts on what qualities her soul mate should possess.

My Soul Mate

By Sara BC

Someone to be there for me

My soul mate

Good times or bad

Fun times or boring

My soul mate

My rock, my shoulder, my friend

My soul mate

Sharing my joys and my sorrows

My soul mate

Understanding me without words

My soul mate

Supporting, encouraging, inspiring me

My soul mate

Trust unbroken, steadfast and true

My soul mate

The other half of my spirit

My soul mate

Thursday Thoughts ~ Oops I Hit My Widdle Head

When looking in the deep in the refrigerator, and the phone rings, do not raise your head suddenly forgetting where you are. It can be surprising painful when your head whacks the top of the refrigerator’s interior.

The term seeing stars takes on a completely new meaning. Certain expletives come rolling out your mouth uncontrollably. Meanwhile, the phone is still ringing and the dog wants to go out and you cannot find your head. It seems to have rolled off somewhere.

Now, there is an incessant throbbing where your head should be and your eyes are unable to focus. Your knees are weak as you grope your way to a chair.

You take a deep breath; it occurs to you that you should put something cold on that injury. You struggle to stand and hobble back to the refrigerator. Delving into the freezer, you retrieve a bag of frozen veggies and plop in your aching top.

Later, what seemed to be a brilliant idea for dealing with a concussion now comes dripping down your face. As you get a whiff of the melting veggies, you realize sitting on top of your head, is a bag of thawed onions. Removing the dripping bag, wet onion scented hair falls in to your face. Concussions are so much fun.

I would write more, but it hard to think and write when your widdle brain hurts.

Hump Day Memory ~ The Shirt

The Shirt
By Heaven O'Shey


Her soft fingers travel
Across his skin
Her lips caress his
She breathes his scent
So intoxicating
Masculine
Her fingers pull at the zipper
Needing to feel all of him
Her intense desire
Rules her
Too much time has passed
Since last they came together
Frustrated, the zipper sticks
It pinches her fingers
Her eyes open
Lying next to her 
A garment bag 
Containing the shirt
He left behind
Remembering laying it in the bed
The night before
Her tears fall
As her, heart breaks again

Tie Me Up Tuesday ~ Her First Time

Her First Time

By Heaven O’Shey

She shivers from

His touch

His stare

He knows she is frightened

Her first time

She has never known one like him

This time he will

Rein in his dominance

For she pleaded

Not this time

No crops

No floggers

No ropes

He binds her with a look

She is obedient

He is pleased

He rewards her with tender lovemaking

Join the Worldwide Party ~ Indies Unite for Joshua

Indies Unite For Joshua is a campaign to raise money for a young man with leukemia. That young man is my son. Joshua is twenty-one years old and undergoing chemotherapy for Acute T-Cell Lymphoblastic Leukemia. But he could be anyone's son, with any type of cancer. The Indie community came together in support of a young man in need simply because there was a need -- and compassion demanded action. Many gave their time, talent, and resources for a complete stranger. That is who they are. 


The online community is much the same as people pressing into a strange new frontier. There exists a deep bond and willingness to support each other not common in our modern world, yet essential to generations past. And even more than the camaraderie of the internet community, the Indie community – breaking new ground in how art and free expression is presented to the mass audience – stand together in common support. They are what is best about humanity: freedom, innovation, fearless exploration, and selfless devotion to each other.


May 25th on Spreecast.com we will celebrate that spirit of common weal with a worldwide party for Indies Unite For Joshua. Many of the authors, artists, and publishers who donated books and services will be there, some live on camera. So come by and meet the best and brightest of the Indie community. You can chat with your favorite author, meet new and old friends, ask questions of those on camera, and perhaps join them in the spotlight.


If you haven't joined this amazing group of people yet, come by Indies Unite For Joshua on Indiegogo.com and make a donation. No amount is too small and for as little as $10 you get two eBooks – one of mine and one of your choice (everyone who donates any amount gets a free copy of one of my books) If you can't make a monetary donation you can offer a word of encouragement, share the link to your social networks, or join #IndiesUnite4Joshua on twitter. The campaign ends May 30th. Don't miss your opportunity to meet some of the best folks on the net.


xoxox


max




Maxwell Cynn is a novelist, freelance writer, amateur coder, webmaster, and Indie publisher. His twenty-one year old son Joshua was diagnosed with leukemia in January, and since that day all of Max's time and royalties have gone to Joshua's care. He continues to stay active on the internet through twitter and his blog. Connect with Max on twitter @MaxwellCynn and visit Indies Unite For Joshua on Indiegogo.com to offer support and/or encouragement to a young man fighting leukemia.

Soul Mate Sunday ~ What is a Soul Mate?

Each has their own definition of a soul mate, depending on their needs and wants. 


To me a soul mate is just what the words imply. A soul mate means finding the one who is the other half of my soul, one that completes me. That does not mean I am incomplete without one. No! Not at all. It’s simply means the one who unleashes my passion, brings out the very best in me, and who is not afraid to let me be me.


My soul mate is one who understands me, is supportive of my work, and knows the love and respect given to me is returned to him.


Where I come from, a soul mate is someone you'd take a bullet for.


What does the term soul mate mean to you?


My Heart
By Heaven O'Shey


My heart is precious 
Filled with compassion
With generosity
With love 
While it has been
Deceived
Betrayed
Broken
Know that 
It becomes
Stronger
Resilient 
Yet guarded 
My heart awaits
For its mate
The one who is appreciative
Of all it has to give
Who will cherish it 
For my heart is more valuable than gold

My Heart can be found in A Sensual Thought available at Amazon 

Just Words

Just Words
By Heaven O’Shey


In the beginning 
Your words touched my soul
Beautiful and heartfelt
They appeared
Suddenly the words changed
Blinded I was
For the words were
Recycled over and over
No truth in them
Words only meant to placate
The words fooled many
Continuing your spiel
Only fooling yourself
The words lost their passion
When written to the masses

Thursday Thoughts ~ It's Memory Killing Time

My friend Sara BC is letting go and moving on.

It's Memory Killing Time
by Sara BC

My body burns with longing

Tears well up

Then freely fall

For what could have been

What should have been

Your scent

Your face

Your voice

Your touch

Invade my dreams

Intrude upon my waking hours

Stealing sleeep

Strength

Joy

Peace

This must end

Now it’s clear to me

I can’t face another tomorrow

Without you

Tonight

It’s memory killing time

Hump Day ~ Going Deeper

Hump Day is a term, which usually describes the middle of the Monday through Friday workweek, hence getting over the hump.

However, it has taken on a more risqué and naughty meaning related to sex.

Terms such as humping, doing the horizontal tango, getting freaky, bumpin and grindin, hittin that, and other ones I won’t mention, are now seen and heard frequently. They are used to describe what used to be considered a special and intimate time. Now, it seems that true intimacy and connection between couples has been abandoned in favor of frantic and temporary groping and coupling.

True sensuality takes time, thought, and feeling from the heart and soul. It is not merely a matter of random and instant gratification. Reaching a level of genuine intimacy and sensuality entails going deeper.

Tie Me Tuesday ~ What Bonds Hold You?

A man who views the world the same at fifty as he did at twenty has wasted thirty years of his life. Muhammad Ali

As we go through life, we may find ourselves so tied to and tied up in the mindset of the past we cannot enjoy and appreciate the present.

When we are reluctant to leave our comfort zone, we deny our mind and spirit opportunity for needed growth and development.

Sometimes taking baby steps to move past our fears and prejudices can enlighten, enable, and empower us.

This is not to say that we should bow to pressures of peers, society, or the media, or latch on to every fad or trend. Once we have broken these self-imposed bonds and stepped outside the box, we can be who and what we truly are and what we may wish to become.

What bonds are still holding you back? 

Tie Me Up Tuesday ~ Invisible Bonds

Invisible Bonds

Heaven O'Shey


Bonds that bind us 
Not always seen
Invisible like the wind
Yet, feel the same
Through the distance
Over land and sea
Through unspoken words
A touch can be felt
Unseen bonds are
Intensified
Passionate
Connected like
Yin and Yang
Bonded spiritually through
Mind and soul
Even in sleep
Ropes and chains
Cannot compare
For they are not as strong
As the bonds that bind us

Invisible Bonds and other poems of love and longing are in A Sensual Thought. 


Amazon

Soul Mate Sunday ~ All the Frogs I’ve Known Before

A friend and I are doing our soul mate search at the same time, hoping to find ours. The other day we were discussing all the frogs we have met in the past and the nicknames we have given them to make us laugh and keep us from crying.

So travel with us down memory lane as we recount the traits of our frogs, which might remind you of yours. 

The first house on the left next to the lake belongs to Majesty. Majesty is educated and functions well in the business world. Socially, he seeks out younger women who are generally unsuccessful in life and careers. He calls himself a rescuer, but in actuality, he is an enabler and encourages the dependence of these women upon him.

Around the bend to the right of the lane is the home of Precious. He is an arrogant and somewhat kinky fellow. Precious also likes to bark out orders on a date and doesn’t seem to understand that not everyone works for him.

Turning more towards the right we come to Big Gun’s house. Big Gun, while intelligent and well-mannered can disappear from a woman’s life without a trace.

Crossing the bridge, we turn left onto a road leading to Lucky Charm’s house. Here lives another smart man who talks a good game, yet has no follow through. 

Following the lake to the right, we come across Bunny Fu Fu’s home. This is a creative man who enjoys being cryptic and ambiguous. 

Although men are all different, these frogs have certain things in common. They are all insecure, easily threatened by strong intelligent independent women, unable to tell the truth, incapable of admitting their faults, and most importantly cannot commit.

We are not men haters. Otherwise, we would be content to live alone rather than seeking our soul mates.

My sister, Shey’s  advice to men is summed up best in Winter of Life.

Winter of Life

By Shey

As hair turns gray 
Just as the leaves of the trees, turn red
Skin is not as supple as it once was
Like forgotten fruit
Sitting in a chair 
Reflecting on life
Tales recounted 
Like howls of the wind
All the times had
Happy and sad
Living in the moment
Reckless and abandonment 
Love could wait until the morrow
Now in the winter of life
Looking at the empty chair across the room
Regretting 
No one is sitting in it

Winter of Life can be found in Murals of Lust.

Amazon  Barnes & Noble

Friend Friday ~ Natasha Blackthorne

This week Friday's Friend is Natasha Blackthorne.


Blurb: Book one in the Regency Risks Series


He is her most dangerous temptation, the only man she has ever trusted and now he is demanding her submission. Dare she take the risk?


Emotionally scarred in the horrific accident that took her husband’s life, Lady Cranfield is imprisoned by her lingering terror of horses and carriages. Lady Cranfield longed to be closer to the fascinating Earl of Ruel. She sensed intuitively that he could teach her how to overcome the terrors that held her in bondage.


And now she’s willing to risk almost anything-her reputation, even her virtue-to find out. But what he proposes startles her.


When the shy, studious and socially awkward young widow approached him, Ruel instantly sensed she would be the sweetest, most submissive experience of a lifetime-if only he can gain her total and complete trust. He makes her a non-negotiable offer. His help in return for her submission and obedience.


But Lady Cranfield grew up neglected by her ducal parents, raised by servants and then later ignored by her handsome, charming husband. She’s learnt to protect her heart at all costs and she trusts no one but herself.


How can the jaded Earl of Ruel break through her self-protective defences and show her how to love when he has spent his lifetime avoiding that tender trap?


Reader Advisory: This is a work of historical fiction, it is not meant to be an accurate portrayal of or guide to how people recover from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It is also not meant to be an accurate portrayal of modern BDSM or D/s lifestyles.


Excerpt


“Why did you run away?” His deep voice settled in her belly, rich and warm, like crème brûlée on a cold winter’s night.

“Because I wanted you to follow.” She tried to sound sophisticated and seductive, but her voice choked off on the last word.

Ruel placed his hand on the shelf above her head and blocked her path to the door. His tall, solidly muscled body leaned over her, surrounding her with the sumptuous, sinful scents of tobacco, Scotch whisky and something masculine and undeniably dangerous. A slow, sensual smile stretched his hard mouth.

He appeared different. Softer. More approachable.

At the change, her insides seemed to flip over.

“Well, sweeting, getting us off alone was a very inspired idea.” He touched one of her fallen ringlets. “I am bored to distraction with endless hunting and fencing.”

As he slowly wrapped the curl around two fingers, he brushed her collarbone. Fiery sparks tingled down her spine, so intense that she shivered and her nipples beaded, pressing against her stays. By some instinct she hadn’t even known she possessed, she arched her back, presenting herself for his assessment.

His eyes shone so vividly blue against his bronzed face that they resembled cornflowers. She swallowed tightly and wished for a long drink of claret. This more personal side of him suddenly seemed far more hazardous than his usually fierce exterior.

Well, no matter. There was nothing to fear. She would allow only as much contact as need be to get to know him a little. Since being torn from her lonely yet secure life in Ireland and thrust into society at age sixteen, she’d spent her time allowing people only as near as was comfortable. She was an expert at emotional evasion.

It should be easy to regain her control.

But now, as late afternoon sun rays played over his pale hair, turning it to the colour of winter wheat, all her carefully rehearsed words flew away.

Say something—anything—else he will think you’re a bird-wit.

An intimate smile, one that invited her to play, tugged at his mouth.

“In a situation like this, alone with a gentleman, it’s perfectly normal for a lady to feel some apprehension.” His hushed voice, barely audible above the piano and boisterous singing from down the corridor, accentuated their isolation. He brushed his fingertips over her cheek and his gaze became so piercing that she had to lower her eyes. “She will invariably ask herself if he will try to kiss her.”

She jerked her eyes back to his face. God, he couldn’t mean to—Not yet, surely… Peculiar, heated chills swept over her. She tried to take a step back, but found her arse flush against the bookshelf.

He leaned closer; so close that his Scotch-scented breath tickled her face. “And just in case you are wondering, Lady Cranfield—the answer is most assuredly yes.”

She should demand that he put his arm down so she could pass by and leave. She really should. But she couldn’t stop looking at his hard mouth and wondering what it would feel like upon hers. He was so close to her, his breath blew on her lips. If she moved but a fraction, she’d be kissing him.

Kissing him.

Dear God. Her breath began to come very fast and short. Her throat went tight with a suppressed moan.

His eyes burnt as brightly as aquamarines. He looked so fierce. If he kissed her, if he dared… Oh God, it would be so harsh. That cruel-looking mouth could express itself no other way.

Excitement rushed through her, sending tingles to every point of her body, even her toes.

But no, he wouldn’t. Not yet.

He kept leaning closer. He didn’t close his eyes. Instead, he seemed to focus all the harder upon her.

Heart pounding and unable to move away, she braced herself for his assault.

His lips brushed hers, barely. A gossamer caress.
He lifted his head.

It was done.

Ended.

And it hadn’t even begun.

He held her chin, appearing so cool, so unaffected. His kiss had seemed to sear her. An urge to put her fingers to her lips arose in her. She resisted it, for it would give away too much of how she was affected.

Never show your feelings.

He traced his thumb along her lower lip, slowly, deliberately, as he studied her with eyes that now glittered with something powerful and predatory. Heat pooled in her pelvis, low and spreading even lower.

She went weak all over, as if she’d lain in a sunny window seat for too long. Her knees almost buckled. She forced them to lock. To be strong.

It should not have affected her so profoundly. It had just been a peck—not a true kiss at all. William had poured out all of his skill upon her and hadn’t garnered even a tenth of the reaction in her that this man’s peck had.

Ruel traced her jaw line with his fingertips. Unthinkingly, she leaned in to his touch.

“Of course, once he has kissed her, then it’s his turn to wonder…” His voice sounded unnaturally loud to her ears. “How will she respond? Will she withdraw, or can he ignite some hidden fire?”

She sensed that he was toying with her. She’d didn’t understand flirtation—why had she imagined she could carry this ruse off? Was he making advances in order to have a laugh with Francesca and her simpering friends later? Hurt blossomed in her chest. She resented him for that. She ought to feel indignant, superior, uncaring—anything but hurt.

“Please don’t make sport of me.”

She cringed. Was that quavering, pleading voice really hers?

An infinitesimal pause. “Now, why on earth would I do such a thing?” His voice was as smooth as velvet.

“To please your vanity,” she replied, trying to regain her wits.

“Here.” He placed her hand to his chest. The contours of his muscles were hard, powerfully developed. Even more so than she’d expected. His body heat radiated through the satin and, beneath her hand, his heart beat was rapid and strong.

“Is that vanity?” He put a finger under her chin, giving her no choice but to face him. “Is it?” He gentled his grip.

The warmth in his voice settled over her like luscious hot chocolate. Melting her insides to quivering burgoo, rendering her speechless, unable to move.

“My dear, lovely Lady Cranfield, I am going kiss you again.”

Then he touched his mouth to hers, more firmly this time. Delicious, steady pressure. Her lips trembled and she clutched his lapels. He lifted his head. At the loss, a throaty, pleading moan sounded in her ears. Had it really come from her?

Clearly, now was the time for her to reassert some control over her reactions. To put him at a more comfortable distance.

“Kiss me back.” At the commanding edge in his voice, hot, sweet honey pooled in her belly.

No. Focus.

 What had she wanted to ask him? Focus? Dear God, what rubbish. She could scarcely remember her own name, much less anything else. What madness had made her think she could maintain control over him?

He traced her mouth with his tongue. Deliberately; lingeringly. This time she couldn’t hold back a moan. She had grown to dislike it when William kissed her opened mouthed. It had always seemed such an overheated, messy thing. But where was her coldness now? She was burning to know what it would feel like to know Ruel’s full kiss. She had to know—just once—or she would surely die.

Just once. Certainly once wouldn’t hurt.

Tentatively, tremulously, she opened her mouth.

He thrust inside, his tongue like a bold blade of flame as it touched hers. He tasted of whisky and something smoky, too sensual to be borne. Fire burst within her, spreading over her breasts. Of their own volition, her hands slid up his muscled arms and she gripped his shoulders and moaned again.
She twisted and pressed her breasts against his chest, trying to increase the sensation on her taut, aching nipples. However, her stays prevented it. Her frustration vibrated deep in her throat, another longer, more intense moan.

The sound startled her and, for a moment, it was as if she was staring down at the two of them. She didn’t recognise herself, but she couldn’t stop kissing him back. Couldn’t stop rubbing her breasts against him.

Who was this uninhibited strumpet? His breathing changed, growing heavier. He cupped her face with his large, long-fingered hands, angling her head. She went even more boneless and allowed him to move her as suited his wont.

He probed more forcefully with his tongue, went deeper, compelling her to open further, to melt against him more completely. He slid his hand to her neck and threaded his fingertips through her hair. He lifted the heavy mass off her neck. Cool air rushed over her nape. In one quick movement, he tightened his hold and, with gentle but firm pressure, he pulled her head back. Her shocked gasp came out as a mere whimper, muffled by his demanding mouth.

No man had ever handled her like this. She’d never even suspected a gentleman would handle a woman—even one of his whores—like this. If she had any sense left, she ought to be frightened, offended—enraged.

Instead, her nipples pebbled painfully and heat twisted through her insides.

He tore his mouth from hers. As she gasped for breath, a sense of loss hit her so intensely that she felt disorientated. She stood there, leaning against his hard body, panting open-mouthed, with her head pulled backwards by his grip.

He studied her and tightened his grasp, pulling more harshly this time. A violent shaft of desire stabbed her, womb-deep.

Warmth, and what looked very much like satisfaction, shone in his gaze.

He laid his other hand along her collarbone in what could only be called a blatant, sexually possessive manner. The skin crinkled around his eyes. He was smiling, ever so slightly. Something had just happened. She didn’t understand what it was. If only she could think, she would be able to reason it out. However, liquid warmth pooled in her lower pelvis and flowed out between her legs in a gush that came so suddenly she gasped. Her sex throbbed as if it were a beating heart.

Coherent thought was impossible.

He shifted and throbbing heat seared her, even through their clothing.

His erection.

Its long, thick, tubular weight was more substantial than William’s.

Ruel brushed his fingers against her back. Tugging, pulling.

Undoing her laces.

She froze and placed her hands on his chest. “Don’t.”

The gown slipped and she automatically clutched the dark purple silk to herself.

He took hold of her wrists, easily circling them with the forefinger and thumb of each hand. “Let the gown fall away.”

He used the voice. The one from the dreams she only reluctantly admitted to herself. The very confident, commanding tone that the nameless, faceless man used in her nocturnal fantasies. Her secret lover who would press her down and—

“I want you to remove the rest of your garments and then I want you to lie on that crimson divan and display yourself for me.”

She threw a glance at the divan, her favourite spot in this whole house. The image his words conjured—her, lying naked on the crimson velvet, open for his perusal—burnt into her brain. Her inner muscles contracted several times—hard. The folds between her legs swelled and grew slicker.

Of course, despite her wayward dreams, she didn’t really want to do something like that.

Couldn’t possibly.

She barely knew Ruel. Yet there was that innate sense that she could trust him. That she could give in to his whims and it would be safe. A secret shared between them. Temptation tingled through her, increasing with every beat of her heart.

Reckless.

She had never been reckless in her life. A trembling began in her legs.

She turned back to him. His features were tight with desire, his stare commanding and compelling. She wanted to be reckless with this man.

“The door is locked. The others aren’t going to come in here—the gentlemen are all occupied with fencing and the ladies are busy with their watercolours.”

She’d never allow herself the luxury of surrendering to this. For this was pure emotion and it would be giving him too much of herself.

“I won’t do it.” She had intended to make her tone resolute. That thready, pleading voice couldn’t possibly be hers.

“It would please me.” His firm tone sent a new wave of lassitude through her limbs.

Need twisted in her lower stomach and a fresh cascade of wetness slicked her intimate folds. It slid down her inner thighs.

Wait—How had they come to this moment? Where the devil was the reserve and sexual coolness that had driven William into other arms? This virtual stranger held some kind of special power over her. God. It was unthinkable. It was terrifying.
“No.” Her strident denial echoed jarringly in her ears.

He released her wrists.

She pulled the gown up high and clutched it tight. She wanted to run. She should run. But his large, strong body still stood between her and the exit. Would he really attempt to stop her if she tried to flee? Her heart pounded at the thought. Because she knew that if he put his hands on her and stopped her, especially if he did it as forcefully and firmly as he’d behaved thus far, she’d melt for him.

What a revelation! She’d never suspected such a creature existed in her secret heart, waiting for someone to come along and draw her out.

“You’d better leave now.” She pushed the words past her shaking lips.


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White Lace and Promises ~ Grey and Beth's passionate battle of wills continues. Coming Dec 26, 2011


Alex's Angel ~ He needs her to believe in him a lot more than she needs his protection. Coming Feb 28, 2012

Hump Day Secret ~ Better Tasting Blowjobs

New release Easy Recipes for Sweet Man Sauce is out. Yes, the title does mean that! 

Want her to swallow and not spit?

This book not only gives you quick and easy recipes for making you taste sweet, but also tells you what and what not to eat. Even a section that will help keep you healthy and erect.

A couple of chapter titles are: Swallow These and She Won’t Swallow You and Suck on These and She’ll Suck on You.

Easy Recipes for Sweet Man Sauce is available at:


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