Tag Archives: Romance

Friday Fun

Week Eleven – The Shadow Road

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This bit  of erotica comes from the soon-to-be-released  book four of Eight Kingdoms, The Shadow Road. Keep an eye out for more bits and bites as we draw closer to the December preorder date! 

(And of course, remember, this sort of Friday Fun is NSFW!)

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Macsen bent and took the head of Bran’s cock into his mouth, just for the taste of him, and his hands darted down to cup the back of Macsen’s head. He licked his lips and stood straight again, pulled Bran the tiniest bit closer, right to the edge of the table, and replaced his fingers with his cock.

He didn’t say a word, gave no warning, and Bran gasped under him, clawed at his shoulders, pulled himself tight against Macsen’s body and let out one long cry. It was just what Macsen wanted, his name drawn out into an unrecognizable sound.

“Open up for me just like that. So good, Bran.”

Bran shook, shuddered, and trembled finally as he relaxed. Everything was heat, and the fire clutched at Macsen’s skin, but Bran was so tight around his cock he couldn’t move. The pleasure was a torment. It was so hot—so hot—there was just one distraction, and he held Bran against his body and bit deep into his throat, sucked up the red, dark blood.

The first mouthful was enough to take Bran shuddering over the edge, all but untouched, heart speeding under Macsen’s tongue, all of him shaking and his cock throbbing its white essence in pulses between them. His body gripped Macsen’s cock almost painfully, then relaxed while he tightened his fingers in Macsen’s hair again and again.

He stayed still and let Bran ride out his climax, took slow mouthfuls from the brilliant spill at his throat. Brighter. Brighter than it had been since they had left Summer. Was it the power Bran used for his work?

So much sun.

Slowly, Macsen pulled back, then thrust deeper, again and again. He felt desire as it sneaked back into Bran’s body, up his calves and his trembling thighs, into the tautness of his buttocks and the sudden tenseness of his hips. The shadow of fire trembled across his skin as he arched back, flickered over his abdomen, his chest. There was fire in his blood, too, as it streamed over Macsen’s tongue and down his throat.

From the Secret Files...

Red Woman

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It’s #1lineWed again, and that means time to riffle through my word-stash! Today’s “Context is Key” entry in the Secret Files comes from Rakushinpu, another WIP I’ve not shared from previously. It takes place slightly before  and during Japan’s Heian era, and explores some of the mythology of the Jorogumo, or Rakushinpu.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The woman – is she, can she possibly be a woman? –  draws Miho’s eyes. The red-painted smile drifts on her face like coiling smoke. She walks under a red umbrella, and her hips sway back and forth with her steps.

Her robes are the robes of a lady, but she is alone – no guards, no outriders, no chaperon, no escort. Her face is hidden behind a red fan, but her eyes are black and gleaming above it. Miho stares at her; why is she familiar?

No woman like that has ever been inside her father’s house.

A little at a time she follows the woman through the market. Past the stalls of food vendors and their sweet-spicy smells, past shops selling paper and silk and ink and furnishings and combs and jewelry, past men and women going about the business of their lives.

Her eyes are focused on the flash of red that moves ever in front of her, the swinging black hair like a cut out section of starless night, drinking light.

Miho traces lines of gold embroidery with her eyes, then stumbles a little. She has seen a flash of pale skin. A bare foot, visible for a sneak of a moment, one shining instance that Miho was lucky enough to catch.

So improbable. Her attention lingers on it long after it has passed. Her gaze is fixed to the hem of the woman’s robe now, waiting, hoping – so pale, that skin! Milk and moonlight. Like Miho’s own skin, but more gleaming.

She is so distracted by it that she doesn’t notice the trap in front of her until it is too late. Until she is in it.

The woman turns down a darker way, and Miho waits a moment and then slips around the same corner.

A dead end, and two chips of onyx that confront her, eyes so dark she can’t discern their pupil. Miho draws in a sharp breath and turns to run, but a sharp, hard grip has her by the shoulder in the next moment.

“Don’t run, little girl. I meant for you to follow me, though I wasn’t sure it would be so easy. Do you know me, pretty one?”

Miho stares at her, stunned. No one has ever, ever called her ‘pretty one’. The fan lowers before the face, and it is a beautiful face – the most beautiful face Miho has ever seen, as she’d known it would be.

“I – you wanted me to follow you?”

The woman smiles, though her mouth does not move. The crinkles at the corners of her eyes give her away. The eyes themselves drink Miho in, drink her whole awareness with the penetrating nature of their stare.

“Yes. I needed to thank you. But you haven’t answered my other question. Do you know me?”

Miho stares at her, the slender fingers wrapped around the black lacquered pole of her Chinese umbrella, the red shade across the pale skin of her cheeks and the darkness of those eyes. Always, always the eyes.

“I know – your eyes.”

And then she averts her gaze and twists her fingers together, suddenly ashamed that she should be dressed below her station, with leaves in her hair and the dust of the market on her face – and I’m ugly I’m so ugly it’s not fair, she’s so beautiful –

“But I called you pretty one, didn’t I?”

Miho starts backward away from the fingers that are reaching out for her cheek and finds her back pressed against the wall of the alley.

“I – you – I didn’t meant to say that out loud, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry -”

“Hush, flower, glowfly, beautiful darling – is that enough to reassure you? Pretty one, I said, and I did mean it…and you…you spoke only to yourself, only in your mind – but that doesn’t mean I didn’t hear you.”

Miho stares.

“You know who I am now, don’t you?”

The utsukushii woman has a voice like honey and plum syrup, thick and rich and too, too sweet. Miho feels that voice sticky on her skin and poured into her ears and drowns in it. Red woman – red woman, utsukushii woman, too sweet woman luring her closer, always closer, speaking like the spider to the fly.

“The spider.”

“Yes.”

 

Friday Fun

Week Ten – Earthbound

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This bit  of erotica comes from Earthbound, the enormous epic novel that will probably be the death of me.  A certain individual, Codename: Twin, is responsible for me actually working on it as I should – so celebrate the joys of editing with me as I share this smutty bit of fun!

(And of course, remember, this sort of Friday Fun is NSFW!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yun has wanted to love her this way from the first moment he saw her, dancing in the dangerous night. He cannot decide if he wants her so terribly because of that moment…or because his need is for someone like her, someone full of innocence and desire in tension.

He is yao-guai, after all. Lust is half his nature…but only half. The other part of him is violence, darkness and barely-leashed destruction. The two sides of his nature are one thing in this moment, pulsing and furious within him.

~ ~ * * ~ ~

The moment does not remain frozen. The pain passes from Liuxing’s face and in its place grows a hungry, lustful curiosity. She can feel the weight of him and the hard, solid thickness of his erection pressed deep into her body.

She tastes blood, scents sex and sweat and the wild musk of her lover, feels heat where his skin is pressed against her and coolness where the night air sneaks against her nerves. The muscles of her pelvis tighten reflexively and she hears Yun suck in a breath; she does it again, purposefully, and then lets out a long moan of her own.

Yun is unyielding, his arousal rigid and still within her, almost uncomfortable – but when she squeezes those muscles the discomfort is overwhelmed by new feelings. When he begins to thrust, a slow rocking of his hips, it sends a glissando of sensation across all the awakened nerves within her, thrilling and terrible and lovely.

She wants more; it is is who she is, the core of her secret self. She is a seeker after sensations, an eager connoisseur of the roughest and richest of melodies, of exquisite tastes and complex rhythms.

Yun’s hands on her skin are finer and more caressing by far than the smoothest of silks. The pleasures he has already given her have set her desires burning higher. She wants more, anything more as long as it feeds that fire.

This is love, this must be love.

The thought comes to her wild, on the edge of wordlessness. What else can it be? It is more than lust, more than the heat; it is something so great and tender growing in her that she is afraid to touch it, can only wonder at it even as it burns into every new place Yun’s hands are touching her.

~ ~ * * ~ ~

Her hips hum in his hands, responding to his thrusts, quickening them, deepening them. The thrumming of her nerves is almost visible when he pauses. He pulls on her taut nipples and waits.  Her enjoyment is pleasing to him, but he needs more from her than sounds and gasps.

He needs words. He needs submission. He needs her active participation in her own defilement; he needs her to give what he so badly wants to take.

He watches the almost invisible trembling of her eyelashes beneath the blindfold, the twitching of muscles beneath the surface of her skin, a drop of red blood rolling to her chin from where she has bitten her lip – anything that might distract him from her body’s wet heat.

He can feel the bending of her will. He tastes her need in her breath, feels it in the curve of her feet, their pointed toes – in the taut muscles of her legs, and in the quivering, clenching, tightness that begs him to give in.

He steels himself, swallows dryly. Her face is dark in the shadow of her hair as she twists beneath him, but when the moment comes that he thinks he cannot restrain himself any longer he hears her voice, soft, pleading…

So much more than he had hoped for, but for reasons he cannot possibly dream

“Yun – Yun, please, I want – please, please, I need you, you can’t stop – you – you can’t-”

Like fire on oil, his hands climb her body, find her most sensitive nerves and stroke them with dexterous fingers. He gives in to the urge that has been taunting him, even as he makes her submit.

He thrusts into her again and again, closes his eyes and drinks in the sound of her heavy, squealing breaths, the begging below her moans. Her legs tighten around his hips and pull him deep, deep, deep. Yun feels the squeezing of her body become sharp, rhythmic pulses and smiles a smile of victory for no one to see.

He no longer even needs to move. Her hips lift to him; the wet depths of her body engulf the whole of his erection and he tightens his hands on her thighs, lets the pleasure wash over him, lets the bond between them complete itself at her instigation. He lets her damn herself with her words, and her not-words, and her writhing.

“Mine, xiaofan – you are mine.”

And in her lustful madness, utterly mindless, she can say only –

“Yes, yours – yes.”

The bond between them is sealed in that moment by her words and her willingness, her intentions voiced and unvoiced.

~ ~ * * ~ ~

Liuxing runs her tongue over her lips, tightens her legs around Yun’s body and presses herself up to him, arches her back.

He gives her no warning but increases his pace. It is more than enough to send her careening wildly across the wave tied to his snarl of pleasure and release, tied to the heat inside her. The ball of furious pleasure wound up tight beneath his touch breaks and bursts.

This is all that is sacred, the unspeakable truth. This is pleasure, its most principle form. It is unlocked within her, a howling beast never again to be silent, never again to be secret.

All that is sacred.

The sacred beast within me.

From the Secret Files...

Wild Justice

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The best part of the writing week is Wednesday, because Wednesday on Twitter is #1lineWed. The hashtag will lead you to a land of glorious lines, excerpted from the works in progress of writers all over the world!

Because I participate myself, and because Context is Key, today’s entry in the Secret Files comes from Haven, a WIP I’ve not shared from previously. It takes place at the meeting of east and west, covering nearly a hundred years, from the mid 1800’s to the end of World War II. 

This bit comes from what is  currently scene one of draft one….the very beginning! 

P.S: If Casimir’s body movements seem strange, it’s because right now…he’s a Unicorn. Bwaha!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Casimir came following purpose, the nature of his being – the odor of a final sacrament. Out of the night of the summer forest, skirting villages, towns, civilized places, he came summoned by the need to act, to fulfill his own essential task. Yet he was drawn onward, needled through every wild place until he breached the borders of domesticated gardens.

He heard low voices, words in German and a language he did not know, quick and light and sharp, incomprehensible as the darting speech of birds.

There were nothing but human sounds from within the boundaries of the garden, and Casimir shook his head, pushed his nose through the edge of the green. Brick and white masonry, tall fences of fern and flowers plaited into webs against the walls – nothing unusual. In a clear space paved with white stones, there were a table and four chairs.

He caught the thin smell of tea, food odors, and focused on the four unfamiliar faces in those chairs. Mortal. Pale.

Empty. What was he doing here? What drew him onward?

I have nothing to do with men.

This was not the place or time for some great revival, for a fight against this world. The world of men and real things, the world of iron. And yet as he focused on the strangers – so foreign, the source of those bird-voices.

He heard a wail that did not come from this world, but from the world beyond. Purpose. Madness. Intention and price. The black eyes of a woman who stood behind one of the seated strangers opened for him, and showed him a land of mountains. Islands and sea.

How long since I have seen the sea?

But there was nothing clean in the salt or the wave, and over the green mountains, which first had beckoned him, there grew a haze of orange and gray. The vision expanded, focused, drew him down from the blue of the sky into jade canopies, the million leaves of an ancient forest. Then – terror!

Smoke sensations.

Casimir reared back, but there was no escaping it now.

Wild justice. All that was magic turned to dust. Yes. Black eyes opened over a tea cup, and they were full of future reflections. In the east, a green land would fall to screaming fire. Even the land on which he stood would turn to brown ash.

War is coming. It comes with these men – fire from the sky.

He breathed sharp and deeply, and panted enough to dislodge the blossoms before his face. A gasp of surprise broke the trance that held him, shattered the vision. It was a gasp directed at him, but that was all but impossible.

Long gone, the days when mortals knew our ways, could sense us, see us.

Casimir hesitated at the edge of retreating, then remained.

Friday Fun

Week Nine – Holy

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This bit  of erotica comes from Holy – a last excerpt before I put Matti and Artemio on the back burner to focus on Sophie In September and book five of Eight Kingdoms!

(And of course, remember, this sort of Friday Fun is NSFW!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, sleepy. Angel?”

Matti sat up abruptly, turned and stared at him for one moment before he leapt out of the sheets, down off the end of the bed and onto him. He wrapped his arms around Artemio’s neck, his legs around his waist and nuzzled his face into the curve of Artemio’s cheek. Despite himself he laughed, reached one hand up into Matti’s hair and tugged gently.

“What the hell are you, a fuckin’ monkey? Christ, Matti -”

“Master. I -”

“Hey. What’d I say about that?”

“I – sorry. Ar…tem…io…”

“Better. Now, what were you gonna say?”

“I missed you.”

“Yeah? You’re an idiot, huh?” But he grinned, then shrugged his shoulders under the pressure of Matti’s arms, turned his head to one side. “You gonna let go anytime soon?”

“I don’t want to. Do you want me to?”

“Let’s try…legs down, and less strangling. Grab my chest if you wanna hold on to me, not my neck, and…and…Matti.”

He obeyed promptly, easily, and Artemio sucked in a breath as Matti slid down his body. He hadn’t thought this through. He had not thought this through. Matti was wearing his shirt and nothing else, and as he slipped down it opened and shifted until far too much of Matti’s skin was pressed against him.

He was so hot in Artemio’s arms, squirming just a little – a little too much. It was easy to forget, because he made himself so small so easily, but he was almost exactly as tall as Artemio was and that meant standing like this –

It was too perfect of an embrace. It gave everything away.

“Artemio…Artemio…Master. You want me. Oh – ohhh -” Matti rocked against him, and Artemio felt the extra heat of his cock against the length of his own erection as he leaned up on his toes and then back again. “Master, tell me it’s because of me, tell me you want me, please, please.”

“Goddamnit…goddamnit, Angel, what’d I say? I -” But Artemio couldn’t make himself let go, held tighter instead. He slipped his hands down Matti’s back and grabbed his ass with both hands, a sweet curve of bare skin under the hem of his shirt. “Fuck.”

“Mast-”

He bent his head and shut him up with a hard, hard kiss, then jerked back and sucked in a breath when Matti gasped against his mouth, bucked his hips forward in Artemio’s grasp and groaned. So hard. So hot. And his cock was leaking against Artemio’s belly, wet enough that he could feel it through his shirt, against his skin. “Matti…Matti.”

Artemio kissed him again, and again – god, kissing Matti was like drinking coffee and whiskey at the same time. Intoxicating. Maddening. Not enough and too much and – and – “God. Yes. Yes, I want you, I want you so bad – been wantin’ you so bad. Wantin’ you since I found you, since I – God’m gonna. Gonna fuck you right now. Gonna fuck you right against the wall.”

“Master!”

“’S your own damn – your own damn fault.”

“Please. Please. I don’t know why you, I don’t know why now, but I’ve been waiting, wanting, waiting. Please…please take me.”

“You – goddamn. You’re wearin’ my shirt.” He closed his eyes, brought his nose down to Matti’s throat and breathed in the richness of his skin, the mingled warmth of his own scent with it. “Your own goddamn fault. Kept on – askin’ for it, and askin’-” Again he kissed him, and again. “You got that? Your fault.”

“Yes, Master.”

Matti was laughing at him, laughing between every hard kiss, rocking against him and  moaning and laughing still.

Bites

Darkest Bite

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To celebrate the contract being signed just this morning, and because a few lines of this were shared during #1lineWed on twitter today, enjoy a tiny Bite of Deathless!

 

Deep in the winter’s dark promise, as far from spring and his own country as he had ever been, Myrddin finally encountered something completely beyond his experience. Slim, naked, wild-haired, beautiful, a stranger was crouched by the water of a trailing spring, black as the night, black in the chill, and when he turned at Myrddin’s voice, the wide of his black eyes was the wide of the startled deer.

“Hello -” Myrddin paused, heard something riled, whispering, but it came from the air all around him and not from the stranger he had spoken to. “Where did you come from, where are you going? Will you let me stay a while, will you answer my questions?” He took two steps closer, then three. “I’ve been looking for someone. Someone to help me with a rite of spring. To invent something beautiful and take away the power overflowing my soul. Someone… Do you know anyone?”

He was answered by nothing, and at the same time by a myriad of silences, one quiet become many voiceless truths. The wideness was fading out of the dark eyes that confronted him a little at a time. The voice that answered him was soft, but it only spoke his own words with the intonation of some other power heavy behind them. “Some…one. Anyone?”

The words were halting, the sound of them almost swallowed, more a questioning echo than real speech. Myrddin took one step closer. The stranger took one step back. “Can’t you answer me? Who are you? What’s your name?”

“Your name?”

“Myrddin—my name is Myrddin. And you?”

“You…”

“Do you not have a name? Do you not know words? Who are you?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Myrddin!” But this time he started laughing and couldn’t stop—it really was like talking with an echo. Maybe this stranger didn’t know how to speak? But he was gorgeous, and the dark of some terrible, magnetic power leeched out of his skin like rain from clouds, soaking and unavoidable.

 

Friday Fun

Week Eight – Sophie In September

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This bit  of erotica comes from a new smut short, Sophie In September, the second story in Luka’s Pack and sequel to Anna In August! 

(And of course, remember, this sort of Friday Fun is NSFW!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Relax. Sophie, beautiful Sophie.” Luka’s voice was a quiet murmur, and his fingers slipped along the fastening of her clothes. The bright sun dress she’d worn was the only splash of color on the black sand, and she flushed when she saw her bra beside it.

Luka’s hands reached around from behind her, lifted the weight of her breasts, and he rolled her nipples, already puckered from the cool breeze off the water, between his thumb and his fingers. Her nipples had always been sensitive, and she sucked in a breath as he plucked at them.

“I’ll let you choose, Sophie.” He let go of her left breast, slipped his hand down the front of her body and into her panties. “Which one do you want to lick you here?” With the rough tip of one finger, he started to tease her clit.

“Ohhh…”

“Which one, Sophie? Alexandre loves the taste of a woman – Ares wants to fuck your ass so bad he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Blond or brown or black hair between your thighs, Sophie? Blue or brown or hazel eyes looking up at you?” While he was talking, he had trapped her clit between his fingers, was squeezing it while he rubbed over it with another finger.

Sophie bucked her hips against his hand when he pinched her nipple again, then dragged her eyes along the line of men in front of her, stripping now, revealing hard muscles outlined by moonlight. Hungry faces, hungry gazes, one licking his lips, one already stroking his cock.

The sight reminded her of Luka behind her, stronger, broader, bigger than all of them, his cock pressed against her ass. And she wanted Ares, wanted him touching her, but if Alexandre was the one who liked to –

“I don’t – I don’t know, I don’t care, any of them, all of them -”

“No, Sophie, we don’t have time for that. There’s too many other things to do to you. Choose.”

“I – ohhh – I -” And then her eyes locked with a brown and hungry stare again. “You. Ares – please -”

He grinned at her, and she felt Luka laugh against her back. Ares took one step toward her, and Luka’s hands curled around the backs of her thighs simultaneously, sprawled wide and lifted her straight up in his arms. She gasped and dropped her head back against his shoulder, felt the tautness of his muscles against her back, her arms, and shivered.

She didn’t know what to do with her hands, and then Ares bent between her thighs and she sank her fingers into thick brown hair and moaned at the touch of cool air as he spread her open, lapped over her clit and shot a hot glance up her body.

“Tell me what you like, Sophie. Won’t you?”

 

Licks

Lick Twice

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

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bran lay quiet, his eyes closed and his breathing growing slowly steady.

“When do you have to go? How soon?”

“Soon, but not now.”

Bran’s hands wandered across Macsen’s chest, up to cup his jaw, drew him close so Bran could kiss him, skimmed the sides of his body. “Good. Good.” Bran reached across his hip to run his fingertips along the underside of Macsen’s cock.

“Again, Bran? Impatient and insatiable.” There were heat and amusement both in Macsen’s voice as he turned against Bran’s body, reached over to close his fingers around the swift thickening of Bran’s erection.

“Yes. I want to still be feeling you when you leave.”

Macsen pressed his lips to Bran’s throat, licked the stinging punctures there, stroked him slowly. Bran turned his head again, lifted one leg over Macsen’s thighs behind him and shifted so that Macsen’s cock pressed between his buttocks.

“Please.” Macsen pushed , and Bran let out a broken moan. There was no discomfort now, his body still stretched and more than ready. There was only pleasure with every inch of Macsen’s penetration. “Want it harder, Macsen—” One slow thrust after another filled him with rigid thickness, then pulled back.

If Macsen kept to this pace, slower than before, Bran might die. He tilted his head back, exposed the vulnerable curve of his throat and met Macsen’s eyes. There was more red in them than violet now, red of blood, red of fire, and beneath those things, the swirling of a winter storm.

“Harder, Macsen. Please—cock in me, teeth in me, harder please.”

The more Bran begged the more he felt Macsen tensing behind him, coming closer to an edge he rarely crossed. As if he were afraid. Now, as always, Bran could tell he was holding back, and that was the opposite of what he wanted.

“It’s too much, Bran. I’ve already taken too much.”

“I want too much.” Bran rolled his hips and felt the sharp heat of Macsen’s exhalation against his back, the tightening of Macsen’s fingers at his hip. “Give me what I want, Macsen. Give me what I want, you know you can’t say no.”

In a moment, Bran was flat on his back again and empty, so empty. The glare of Macsen’s eyes blazed down at him through the fall of his hair.

“I can’t say no. I can’t, I can’t.” He spread Bran’s legs with warm hands that went cold without warning. “That means you should be careful what you ask for.” Wholly, fully, Macsen thrust deep, pulled himself forward over Bran’s body and set a pace that was fast and hard.

 

 

 

Friday Fun

Week Seven – Anna In August

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This bit  of erotica comes from a new smut short, Anna In August, just like week five! (So if you haven’t yet, read That One first!) This particular bit is where the smut starts to get really steamy…so enjoy! 

(And of course, remember, this sort of Friday Fun is NSFW!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anna tried to think, but she could barely breathe. Luka was – a wolf? A werewolf. They were just a myth, but this myth had a tongue with which he lapped up her throat again. This myth had a body that was muscled and broad, hot and hard, all man, and she heard herself moan.

I’m going insane. That had to be it. She didn’t care. She wanted him to kiss her again, was suddenly certain that no man was ever going to kiss her like Luka had. She wanted him to do more than kiss her, wanted him to touch her, fuck her, and even as she had the thought he bent to her mouth. Luka bit her bottom lip and sucked on the tip of her tongue, and she lifted her hips and felt his cock pressed against her, huge and hot and hard. She shuddered, moaned. He was going to put it inside her, he was going to fuck her with it, she knew it – she wanted it.She wanted it so bad –

“More, Anna?”

“Please.”

She felt heat against her back without any warning, and knew it was another man. No – another monster. He was as hard and hot as Luka, naked abs burning Anna’s skin through her shirt and his cock pressed tight against the curve of her ass. Luka tilted her head back until she was forced to break eye contact with him and met a dark brown gaze instead, then slid his fingers down her throat to her nipples and thumbed them through the lace of her bra.

Luka pulled at them, and her gasp let brown-eyes’ tongue into her mouth as he licked at her lips. So different from Luka, this kiss, but almost as good. Whatever fire had been lit in her was burning brighter, hotter, and she didn’t protest when the man behind her pulled her shirt down her shoulders and off, then slid his fingers to the clasp of her bra and undid it. He slipped the straps off her shoulders and dropped it on the ground, cupped her breasts with both hands and started to tease the points of her nipples.

At the same time Anna felt Luka’s fingers inside her panties again, spreading her open to his touch. He toyed with her clit, the tips of his fingers almost too rough when he squeezed it, rolled it around. She groaned again, rocked against the body behind her, then almost jumped at another touch on her side. That was too many hands! Not just Luka’s, not just another pair, more. Who? All of them?Were they all going to – to –

Luka slid two fingers inside her, kept rubbing her clit with his thumb, and for the life of her Anna couldn’t think any more why it mattered. She looked to one side through half-shut eyes and saw a pair of dark haired men stripping, staring at her as Luka fucked her with his fingers. Together, they closed their fists around their cocks, and she shuddered, squeezed tight around a third of Luka’s fingers and wondered if he would fuck her now if she begged, or if he was going to make her wait.

The hands on her were stripping her again, distracting her, and she felt, not just hands, but more. Someone’s mouth was on her thigh as he pulled off her jeans, kissing, teasing, and she looked down and met the eyes of one of the two she’d seen stripping.

Someone’s tongue was on one of her nipples, but Luka growled in the next moment, and whoever it was retreated so that Luka could lower his mouth and suck instead. Anna pressed her breasts up toward his tongue and two pairs of hands settled on the waistband of her panties. They started to slip them down her legs, and she spread her thighs to make it easier.

Luka chuckled against her skin and slipped his hands back around her hips and down to cup her ass.

A wet finger slipped between her buttocks, started to press inside her, and Anna gasped, bucked up against him and felt his other hand back where it had started, two fingers deep in her pussy again, twisting, stroking inside. She jerked, started to fall, but the man behind her caught her, and more than one pair of hands stroked her arms, her legs, and held her up off the ground. She felt hard muscle against her back, someone’s chest again, and reached up and back to wrap her arms around his neck.

Luka started to fuck her with his fingers again, three in her pussy now, two in her ass, and she stared down at him with her mouth open, couldn’t make a sound.

“You’re so tight, Anna. So tight for us.”

Us.

“Luka, Lu-ohhh.”

One of their mouths was at her throat. Someone’s hands were teasing her nipples, someone’s tongue on her neck, licking at the bruises Luka had left. Anna heard a low, begging whine, then flushed. That was her noise, and Luka laughed, then pulled his fingers out of her and stepped back between her thighs.

He unbuttoned his jeans, kicked off his boots and stared at her as he stripped out of the denim. There was nothing under them, just Luka, more cock than she’d thought even, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care, she wanted it. She wanted him to fuck her, and then she wanted him to fuck her ass, and then – what then?

But he stepped around her instead, up toward her face, and she knew what he wanted before he said it, was already opening her mouth.

 

Friday Fun

Week Six – Holy

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This week, I’m sharing from the first draft of Holy once again!  (And of course, remember, this sort of Friday Fun is NSFW!)

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“Gonna make me fuck you right against the wall.” It came hoarse and hard and quiet against Matti’s mouth, but Artemio kissed him before he could say anything in response, then kissed him again. “Wanna do it – fuck I wanna. Cause I can, cause you – but not now.” Every other word he almost lost in a kiss, but Matti didn’t complain, pulled him closer, tightened his fingers against Artemio’s scalp and pulled deliciously.

“Love that, Matti. When you – when you – mmmm.” Words went to silence against Matti’s mouth again, but this time Artemio moved away from the wall, maneuvered around the bedroom door, thankfully open, and let Matti go onto the bed.

He made to move back, but Artemio was too quick for that, darted over him and pinned him down against the mattress. “All mine, so goddamned lucky and you’re all mine. Want you – god I want you. Fuckin’ stupid how much I want you. And you think – goddamn. Wake up wantin’ you, go to sleep wantin’ you, dream about fuckin’ you. Like a fuckin’ teenager. Want you more than anything.”

“Master -”

“No.” He kissed Matti hard, pressed his mouth against those soft lips until Matti was panting for breath every time he pulled back. “No, don’t you call me that. You know what to call me.” Matti sighed against his mouth, and Artemio licked his lips, his tongue, caged him against the bed with both arms, both legs. “What do you call me, Matti?”

Broken, husky, the sound came obedient from Matti’s lips. “’Temio. Oh – oh ‘Temio.”

“Yeah. Yeah, Matti. That’s good. So good, you – you’re so good. So good.”

He shivered, tensed, and Artemio felt Matti’s fingers twitching against his back, tightening in the fabric of his shirt. “’Temio won’t you – won’t you fuck me, please, please -”

“Fuck. When you talk like that-” Artemio kissed him again, nudged his head aside, kissed his throat, his collarbone, bit gently then forced himself back. “I’ve been a bad influence on you. Listen’a you. Such a dirty mouth – but I’m not gonna fuck you, Matti. Not tonight.”

“Not..not…no – please -”

“Gonna make love to you, Angel. Gonna love you nice’n slow, give you all the cock you want – but I’m not gonna fuck you tonight.” Matti blinked up at him, confusion mingled with the softest delight.

“’Temio? Temio, what’s – I don’t -” But Artemio shut him up with a kiss, then pulled back and stripped off his shirt, his sweatpants. “’Temio?”

“Undress myself first, so you don’t get distracted tryin’a do it for me.” Matti opened his mouth to protest, but Artemio kissed him and whatever words he’d been going to make turned into a moan instead, warmed his mouth. “Wanna take my time with you, Angel. Wanna make you understand – ” He knelt on the bed over Matti again, kissed him, then his throat, peeled the t-shirt he was wearing up over his skin a little at a time.

He traced meaningless patterns on Matti’s skin with eager fingers, brushed his mouth with his lips with just enough pressure to make it a kiss and laughed deep in his throat when Matti moaned even at that, lifted his hips to press his erection against Artemio’s body. “Need it so bad already? But I’m not gonna let you come until I get my cock in you, Matti.”

“Nn…Mas…’Temio.”

“Cock dripping already, look at you. Look at you. Makin’ a fuckin’ wet spot on my sweatpants.” He leaned back and grasped the shaft of Matti’s cock through the cotton, rubbed his thumb over the leaking head and grinned when Matti rolled his hips up into the touch. “Feels good?”

“Ohhh…yesss.”

“Bet I could make you come just like this, huh? Rubbin’ your cock like this, barely even touchin’ you, not even got your pants off yet but you’d come for me, wouldn’t you? Come if I told you to. If I just kept doin’ this.”

“Yes, yes -” He lifted his ass up off the bed, tried to roll his hips into Artemio’s grip, but Artemio only smirked at him and let go.

“Maybe next time.”

“Oh ‘Temio. Not fair – not fair.”

Artemio chuckled and reached for the knot he’d tied in the looped up drawstring, untied it and let it drop. “I know. Didn’t say I was gonna be fair, said I was gonna make love to you – and I love teasin’ you, Angel. Love watchin’ you get all worked up for me – ”

He leaned back, then tugged at the shirt still pulled up around Matti’s ribs. “Take this off.”