Tag Archives: erotic excerpt

Lick By Moonlight

This  Lick comes  from Wolf of the West, a standalone novel currently available here! Remember, Licks are NSFW excerpts, so read carefully – and look forward to another erotic excerpt on the smutty seventeenth of next month!

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Just Marcas’ kiss was almost enough to bring Connor over the edge. When Marcas pulled back again, Connor was glad, not wanting to make a fool of himself, but the next moment he thought it might not matter. He felt a single one of Marcas’ fingers moving over the entrance of his body, circles that teased with a dip inward, never really penetrating, stimulating nerves new to sensual sensation. His other hand gripped Connor’s cock at the base, stroked slowly.

“Marcas—Marcas, please, I’m—”

Close?” The word was a growl that came close to his skin. “Good. You like when I touch you, Connor?”

Yes.”

“You like when I touch you here.”

Slowly, the finger penetrated, and there was both pleasure and faint burning. “Yes…“ Marcas pressed deeper, and Connor let his head fall back against the ground. “Oh yes.” The feeling was wholly new, different from any way he’d ever touched himself or been touched by any lover. “Please, Marcas, more.”

He felt more stretching him, knew it was two fingers inside him now, but the slow pace of Marcas’ stroking didn’t change. Gods. He’d been wanting for so long that it was all he could do to keep himself from really begging, but Connor’s body wouldn’t obey like his voice did. He moved his hips against Marcas’ fingers, into his fist, reached up to grip Marcas’ shoulders with both hands.

He had been teasing himself before Marcas came—what Marcas was doing now was driving him to distraction. Connor slipped his hands down Marcas’ sides, pressed his palm against the rigid throbbing of Marcas’ cock.

“Want you, Marcas. Want more—want you—”

The fingers moving in him thrust faster, sharper. The fist wrapped around his cock squeezed tighter, sped its strokes, and Connor lost his words to gasps and moans. He stared up into Marcas’ eyes and felt another surge of heat. So good, the fingers inside him, the fist wrapped around his cock—and the way Marcas’ looked at him, hungry, panting wolf in the back of his gaze, as if he would swallow Connor whole—

So good.

“Marcas, you—you—please—

The words were barely coherent, but Marcas laughed at him still, his voice almost hoarse with wanting.

“No, Connor. No more than this. Not now.” He flicked his gaze up to meet Connor’s eyes. “Not unless you want more fingers inside you.”

“Yes—anything, yes—”

Connor heard Marcas groan, then gasped as he pulled two fingers away and pushed three back inside. It was almost too much, slow burning stretch, deep feeling, but too much wasn’t enough.

“So tight, Connor. So tight around my fingers, how will I fit my cock in you?”

Connor squeezed the thickness of Marcas’ cock under his hand, felt his fingers inside touch something hot with pleasure. He groaned and bucked up twice into Marcas’ fist, fire spreading everywhere inside him, a shattering ecstasy. He felt the wet warmth of his own essence on his chest, his belly, and over him Marcas trembling—trembling so that Connor was able to pull himself back, away from fingers and hand and the heat of his body, and tumble him back onto the grass.

 

 

Week Two – Undone

This teaser of smutty goodness comes from Undone,  to celebrate the end of the blog tour, and because it’s smutty goodness. (And of course, as it’s smutty, that means NSFW!)

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You’re perfect.”

The words slipped out of Tighe’s mouth and Faelan relaxed at the sound of them, some of the tension dissolving and what remained, all sensual tightness. Tighe kicked his trousers the rest of the way off his legs and waited only for an instant. Then Faelan was over him, on him, .

Faelan’s thighs sprawled open across his hips and the length of his cock pressed tight and hot against the rigid thickness of Tighe’s own erection. Faelan pressed down, leaned forward and rolled his hips so that the slick head of his cock rubbed back and forth against the pulsing nerves in Tighe’s.

His mouth moved across Tighe’s chest, over his collarbone, licked at the red bruises he’d left. Pleasure made his eyes dark and darker, the shining flecks deepening from amber to mahogany dusk, the green near-black, barely distinguishable from Faelan’s dilated pupils.

Tighe let his head fall back against the grass and traced the lines of lean, slender muscles in Faelan’s arms while he moved over him. Faelan braced himself on one hand, reached out with the other and entwined their fingers. He leaned up again, a shift of pressure and angle that let him kiss Tighe’s mouth even as the movement of his hips drew out a gasp. Faelan moaned faintly, breathed hot words close to Tighe’s ear.

“How much more. How much more will you give me? Prince, how much more?

More. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. It’s too good to stop.”

Perfect friction, perfect touch. Tighe gave in to his own urges, reached his fingers into Faelan’s hair and pulled him down against his mouth, kissed him again and again. The fire that lived inside him was seeping to the surface of his skin, and around them he saw the air rich with luster.

Week One – Wolf Of The West

This bit of smutty goodness comes from Wolf of the West, as a result of…well, research, faoladh, and my own inability to resist the temptation of Marcas. Friday Fun may become a regular deal – let’s see how it goes, shall we? (And of course, as it’s smutty, that means NSFW!)

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Connor pressed his hips up against Marcas’ and grinned at the breath the other man sucked past his lips.

“What’s not right about now?”

Marcas laughed again, but this time Connor knew that he was laughing at him.

“You don’t want it enough yet. I want more than this from you, Connor.”

Connor couldn’t see Marcas’ smirk, but he felt it, the lips stretching, parting against his skin. Again, he felt a languorous stroking of tongue against his throat, nipping teeth, open-mouthed kisses that sucked heat to the surface of his skin to be soothed by that tongue. It was no longer in him to deny anything. He could only capitulate to sensation, his own nerves betraying him with what they wanted.

On your knees, Marcas said, and the image filled itself in his head, more than an image, a whole scenario… There would be the taste of salt and skin. Give as good as I get.

He found himself pushing up against the thigh Marcas had pressed between his legs. Connor arched his back off the ground and wished he could get out of his clothes, feel all the burnished heat of Marcas’ skin against his skin, but he still couldn’t move. He couldn’t even get enough movement out of his hips to ease the aching of his cock, so full, so wanting…

What did he mean, didn’t want it enough yet? What more was there to wanting than this painful pressure, tingling in his fingertips, his toes, a shiver that turned to a full body shudder when Marcas licked his lips. He leaned back over Connor’s mouth and kissed him, sucked Connor’s tongue into his mouth and stroked it lightly with the tip of his own tongue.

He mouthed his way along Connor’s jaw, back to his throat, kissed his shoulder—then bit it, hard. Connor jerked upward with an involuntary cry. He had been so close—but Marcas was already standing, backing away, grinning.

Lick the Sun

This  Lick comes from book two of the Eight Kingdoms series, The Circle Unbroken! Remember, Licks are NSFW, so read carefully – and look forward to another erotic excerpt on the smutty seventeenth of next month!

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Bran reached out and ran his hands through Macsen’s hair.

“The Red King on his knees in front of me—I wonder how much some would pay for that?”

Cool hands caressed the bare skin of Bran’s thighs, cold enough to set him shivering but not to dull his lust.

“Never enough—but I want you now, Bran.”

He leaned forward with the words still on his tongue and wrapped his lips around Bran’s cock. Cool. Velvet. Bran tightened his fingers in Macsen’s hair, leaned forward and groaned, guided his erection back and forth over the roughness of Macsen’s tongue, the softness of his lips. Now and then the dangerous teeth glided over his skin, just enough to tease, to remind Bran who was really in control, always.

“Back, Bran. Lie back.”

Macsen was already reaching for the sweet oil they kept by the bedside.

“So I don’t get anything I want after all?”

He would have said more, just to tease, but Macsen poured the oil over Bran’s erection, smoothed it with his fingers, his fist moving up, down, up… Then it stopped, and Macsen stood, stared down at him.

“Move back, Bran. The middle of the bed—yes.”

Bran obeyed, then looked down his body and saw Macsen crawling up over him, slow movements, every stretch, every inch he covered sensual panic, perfect—gorgeous he was, lust in his eyes, his smile pure sex. He settled himself on Bran’s belly, just above the head of his cock, and pressed back enough that Bran’s cock slid between his buttocks, and Bran groaned. So close, so close to where he wanted to be, but not close enough.

He pressed upward, ran his hands over Macsen’s thighs, his hips, dragged his fingers over Macsen’s erection.

“Is this what you wanted, Bran?” Macsen lifted himself just a little then pressed down on Bran’s cock.

Oh yes.”

Tightness, but not heat, satin sinking over him, drawing a groan out of his lungs, long noise of breath—Macsen’s hands on his chest, the weight of him, his thighs pressed close to Bran’s thighs… Slowly, he rocked up and back, took a little more of Bran inside him each time—it took all Bran’s willpower not to use his grip on Macsen’s hips to pull him down, flush against his body, bury himself all the way inside.

Inside you, Macsen. I want— I want to—”

Macsen settled on top of him, his buttocks flush against Bran’s thighs, and Bran finally gave in to his urge and let his hips jerk upward. Macsen leaned back, open pleasure on his face as he lifted himself and sank down again and again.

At first Bran lifted his hips to meet him, drove little cries out of Macsen’s lips, gorgeous, so arousing, until Macsen leaned forward again, forward until only the head of Bran’s cock was inside him, and he could speak just beside Bran’s ear.

“Are you going to take what you want?”

Lick of Fire

This  Lick completes the teaser  from The Burning Season, currently available here! Remember, Licks are NSFW excerpts, so read carefully – and look forward to another erotic excerpt on the smutty seventeenth of next month!

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Bran let his head drop back against the bed, cried out and bucked into Macsen’s touch. There was nowhere to go, no escape from those hands, that mouth sucking against his flesh, but escape wasn’t what he wanted.

He wanted more, and more. More than the languid stroking of Macsen’s thumb against the head of his cock, more even than the rush that was the sharing of Macsen’s deepest nature. The dark of it came over him like he thought his own heat must come over Macsen, sudden, full, undeniable.

“Macsen, more, please, I need more.”

The words came aching from his mouth, and Macsen pulled away, licked his teeth and looked up with blood on his lips still. The sight made Bran tighten his grasp against the bedclothes. The fingers pulled out of him, and warm hands spread Bran’s thighs apart farther, left him empty, needing, feeling his pulse in the hundred marks Macsen had left on his body. He felt a soft tongue on the wound Macsen’s teeth had left in his thigh, soothing, reminding…still not enough.

Not nearly enough.

Now that his hands were free, Bran reached down to tug at Macsen’s hair, pull him up. Yes, up. He didn’t have the strength to move his lover, not if he didn’t want to be moved, but Macsen was pliant, let Bran tug him into place between his thighs, nuzzled his cheek against Bran’s cock.

Macsen, please, suck—”

His tongue lapped around the head, pulled Bran a little at a time into his mouth. Slow. So slow that Bran could feel every stroke of tongue, the coolness of Macsen’s breath, the softness of his lips. “Oh yes—yes.

Before he knew what he was doing, Bran was holding Macsen’s hair tight in his fists, guiding the movement of his head, thrusting his cock up into Macsen’s mouth. Red-violet, heavy-lidded, pupils wide, Macsen stared up at him, and Bran’s gaze traveled between that wanton look and the way Macsen’s mouth stretched around his cock.

Again, Macsen pulled back, and this time all Bran’s tugging was for nothing. “Macsen—”

“Have I proved yet that I’m the patient one?”

Bran sucked in a breath, scowled but couldn’t sustain the expression. “You—”

Macsen only grinned. “I.” He leaned forward, lapped at the underside of Bran’s erection, laughed huskily at the sound of Bran’s groan and closed his mouth over the head of his cock again. His tongue moved in darting patterns, and no matter how Bran pulled at his hair or bucked his hips upward, there was no more than that—only a tease.

A minute, two, and Bran tensed, so close, not close enough. Easily, Macsen’s fingers slipped inside him again, and that was more than enough to prod his nerves higher, always higher, but not enough to bring him the release he craved.

There was heat at the curve of his hip, the dip of his pelvis, Macsen’s mouth, one kiss after another. Macsen’s tongue drew wet lines of desire across his skin, along the length of his cock. He spoke in a murmur, close to Bran’s skin.

“I want the taste of you to bring with me, Bran.”

The words licked at him like that wicked tongue, sent a jolt through him and invoked a new flush of flame.