When Mourning Becomes Joy

Happy Blissemas, everyone!

For those of you who don’t know about Blissemas, a quick refresher. The season of Blissemas starts on the 1st December and will finish on the 24th December. Every day of Blissemas a different author will post up gems of delight in the guise of festive stories, excerpts, recipes, hints and tips and this year one lucky winner will receive a Kindle Voyage! Click here to find out how you can join in the Blissemas celebration and increase your chance of winning.

 

 

I love Blissemas! I always find it a time to be thankful for all of the blessings of the year and a chance to look forward with hope to all that will be in the New Year. But sometimes things don’t go as planned, and sometimes the joy of the season is mixed with tears and sadness, mourning and loss. I lost my brother to cancer on December 21st. It’s been fifteen years ago now, and I still remember the Christmas that followed as one of the richest, deepest Christmases, one of the ones in which I had the most to be thankful for of any I’ve ever had.

 

My husband and I were living abroad at the time. We’d gotten used to spending our holidays away from family, as so many people have, and while it was always a good experience for us, it had become very insular. At the news of my brother’s death – not unexpected, we were on the next plane to Colorado, and what could have easily become one of the worst Christmases of my life became a Christmas filled with wonder and love and appreciation for all that’s good in my life.

 

It was bitterly cold and snowing when we landed at Stapleton International Airport outside Denver after flying forever. We were met by old friends I’d not seen in years, who had heard the news of my brother’s death and insisted we spend the night with them before we headed over the treacherous mountain pass. They took us to their home, fed us, gave us a warm place to stay for the night along with a much-needed dose of laughter and good conversation. In the morning after a good breakfast, they insisted that for the trip over the mountains to my brother’s house in Wyoming, and for the duration of our stay in the Rockies, we take their four-wheel drive SUV instead of trusting to a rental. They drove the mountain roads in winter, and they were always prepared.

 

We arrived safely at my brother’s house in very rural Wyoming to find the whole family already gathered and the house full of food brought in by neighbors and friends. That night before the funeral, we put up the tree, something my husband and I hadn’t done in a long time, but something we all did together for my brother’s first grandchild, who was four at the time and just old enough to miss his papa and to delight in the magic of Christmas. It had been a long time since I’d seen the wonder of Christmas through a child’s eyes, and I found myself delighting in Timothy’s delight and remembering how it had been when I was a kid.

 

At the funeral, there were old friends, friends I hadn’t seen since childhood, all with memories to share of times they had spent with my brother and with all of our family. Some of them came back to my brother’s house afterwards and we all laughed and reminisced and remembered not only the best of my brother’s life – but how far we had all come in our own journeys and just how much we all had to be thankful for.

 

Christmas morning dawned just as bitterly cold as the rest of our time there had been, but with a dusting of new snow – the dry kind with more sparkle than substance, shining like diamonds in the cold winter sun. We all shared in Timothy’s excitement as he opened his gifts, as he laughed and squealed. One particular gift, I recall was a bowling ball – possibly a bit much for a four year old, but not for a four year old from a family who had a passion for bowling. “This is from Papa,” my sister-in-law told him.

 

“I miss Papa,” he said, looking down at the ball he held in his lap.

 

In a strange way, I think I felt my brother’s presence more that Christmas than I ever did when I was a child. We were not close then, and we understood little about each other. Before my brother became bedridden, he had successfully hunted elk that year with his friends, which meant he’d left the freezer well stocked for his family. He had also had time to make sure there was plenty of wood laid in for the winter. The house had a fireplace and a wood-burning stove. My brother was old school – fourteen years my senior, and caring for his family meant keeping them warm and well-fed. I know, that’s what every parent sees as their responsibility to their family, but in the open spaces of rural Wyoming, in the dead of winter, those basics were taken much more literally than they are for those of us living in a more urban setting.

 

Two days after Christmas, we set off back over the pass to catch our flight back to England. As we watched the smoke from the chimney and loaded our borrowed SUV, we walked past the woodpile. Probably every house in a community that was no more than a dozen homes spread over probably twice that many miles had a woodpile, but for me, it symbolized my brother’s last act of caring for his family.

 

That Christmas will always be a reminder for me that sometimes the very best of gifts come from the most painful places. Within the mourning, there was celebration, within the sadness there was joy, and surrounding the whole experience, there was love. That, I remember most of all.

 

Wishing you all celebration, joy and love this holiday season.

 *****

 

Here’s an outdoorsy wild wintery excerpt from the third of the Executive Decisions novel, The Exhibition. Enjoy!

 

The Exhibition: Book Three of the Executive Decision Series

Blurb:

Successful NYC gallery owner, Stacie Emerson, is ex-fiancée to one Thorne brother and ex-wife to the other. Though
the three have made peace, Ellison Thorne’s friend, wildlife photographer, Harris Walker, still doesn’t like her. When Stacie convinces Harris to exhibit his work for the opening of her new gallery she never intended to include him in her other more hazardous plans. But when those plans draw the attention of dangerous business tycoon, Terrance Jamison, Harris comes to her aid. In the shadow of a threat only Stacie understands, can she dare let Harris into her life and make room for love?

 

 The Exhibition Excerpt — Call of the Wild:

The sun was just staining the sky pink when they topped the rise that overlooked an outcropping of rocks opposite them on the other side of a narrow canyon. And there on a ledge were the two mountain lions. Harris could feel the tensing of Stacie’s body in the excitement he knew she felt because he felt it too. From the looks of the situation the female had been calling for a mate, and the male, who crouched on the outcropping just above her, had just arrived. Harris breathed deeply and slowly to steady his hands as he aimed the camera. He was so engrossed in the cats that it took him a second to realize Stacie had her own camera, and he couldn’t help feeling a swell of pride at just how calm she was, already shooting next to him. But then he reminded himself she’d grown up in the Russian wilderness. Beneath the big city venire, she was made of stern stuff. He leaned close to her. ‘This is my cat all right. See the little notch in her left ear, some old injury.’ His voice was less than a whisper, but she nodded that she understood.

 

And then the action began as the two cats went about the business of getting acquainted, the female stretched long and lean across the rock before the male, not unlike Harris had seen Dee’s two tabbies do when they found a particularly nice place to sunbathe. In the crisp quiet of the morning, they could hear the rumble of the purr emanating from the female’s throat. It was a feline act through and through as the two made little grunts and growls at each other and the male sniffed the female’s readiness. It didn’t take long until the female rolled back onto her belly and positioned herself, flicking her tail to one side and lifting her bottom.

 

Being privy to such an intimate act of nature, such an intensely wild and primordial act made Harris’s pulse thunder against his throat. Simply seeing the two cats together like this was an unparalleled privilege, but to share it with Stacie made him feel as though he had somehow offered it to up her, as though he’d had something to do with the cats’ presence here. It felt right on a level that he had no words for. If he were ever to share such an experience, it should be with her. It couldn’t be with anyone else.

 

At some point he realized Stacie was taking pictures of him as well as the cats. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest through the dark green fleece she wore. He could almost feel her intense concentration and her delight at sharing the experience, at watching the cats as they got on with creating the next generation. He loved that she’d made no nervous twitters, no off-handed remarks about the cats’ mating. Most people would have. Most people would have been uncomfortable with seeing something so raw, so blatantly and unashamedly sexual.

 

The sky had gone from pink to blue and the monochromatic world had brightened to subtle desert shades of tan and mauve and kaki bathing the cats in golden light as they stretched and preened. Then Stacie and Harris watched as they moved on silent feet single file off the ledge and disappeared into the canyon. They stood and watched long after the cats were gone, as though to move, or to speak would somehow destroy the moment. Harris understood. He sat for nearly an hour after photographing the female with her kittens, unable to move, unable to do anything but try to take in what he’d just witnessed.

 

It was Stacie sniffling that brought him back to reality. He turned to find tear streaming unabated down her cheeks. She offered an embarrassed smile and wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. ‘Amazing,’ she managed. ‘They were amazing, so beautiful and powerful and …’ She looked up into his eyes. ‘Thank you for bringing me here.’

 

‘It was a pleasure,’ Harris managed, resisting the urge to take her into his arms. What she was feeling had nothing to do with him, and he didn’t want to take away from it.

 

‘I’d love to come back and try to find her after the kittens are born,’ she said.

 

It encouraged him that she was thinking in terms of the future, a future without Terrance Jamison. ‘I’m sure Doug’ll let us know when that happens. It’ll be three months, maybe a little more, before they’ll be born.’

 

‘In the dead of winter? That’s a harsh time to bring kittens into the world.’

 

‘Don’t worry. She’s up for it. Doug says she’s successfully raised at least two litters before the one I saw. She knows what she’s doing.’

 

Stacie looked after the cats again, and Harris couldn’t resist. He lifted his camera and took a couple of shots of her. When she flipped him off and then offered her usual teasing smile, he only shrugged and continued. ‘Just returning the favour.’

 

The blush that crawled up her throat made her look even more beautiful if that were possible. ‘Yes but you look outdoorsy and ruggedly handsome. I look all swollen-eyed and under-slept.’

 

He kept shooting. ‘To me you look beautiful. You belong here almost as much as those cats do.’

 

*****

 

Instead of shoving at him as he’d expected her to do, she curled a hard fist in his hair and ravaged his mouth with every bit as much ferocity as he had given her, pulling him still closer, rubbing her body against his, making him instantly and startlingly erect.

 

She snaked a hand down between them and savaged his fly until he feared for what lay beneath, until her fingers wriggled and dug their way into his walking trousers to possess his cock with a tight grip as though it were a weapon, one she were about to use to do serious damage.

 

He fumbled to return the favor, with her ripping at her own fly to make room for him, to guide his fingers down over her mons. Her eyes locked his in a devastating gaze that felt as though she could see right through him. ‘I need you to touch me there.’ Her voice was a breathless whisper. ‘Where I’m wet, where I’m open, where I’m always, always hungry for you.’ Her breath caught; her eyelids fluttered and she sucked her bottom lip as he found her cleft, wet and open as she’d promised. ‘You can’t tell me you don’t want to be like those cats.’ She guided his hand still further and manipulated it until first two, then three fingers pressed up into her. ‘You can’t tell me that when I present myself to you all hot and ready and begging for it, you don’t want to service my need. You can’t tell me you don’t want to get a little primal with that cock of yours.’ She gave him a hard squeeze and drove her hand up and down his length, thumbing the already abundant pre-cum over and around the tip until he gritted his teeth and held his breath while his hips bucked hard against her efforts.

He scissored her deep with three fingers and raked the silky slickness of her up and over her clitoris, and the sounds from the back of her throat easily resembled the sounds the female cougar made when the male mounted her. They wildly, madly fucked each other’s hands. The wind had risen and even on the clear morning, the chill left no doubt about lingering for more than the quickest of releases. Then she shifted, pressed her back hard against the stone and rested both of her hands on his shoulders. Before he could protest the removal of her fingers from his cock, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her still clothed crotch rubbing tight and insanely hot against his exposed cock as she began to rock and gyrate, and it was all happening way too fast.

 

‘Stacie I –’

 

‘Shut up, Harris,’ she spoke between chattering teeth. ‘I need to come, and so do you. You can fuck me properly when we get back to the SUV. It’s too damn cold to linger.’ With each sentence she ground against him, baring down with the extra leverage the cliff at her back afforded and, almost before the words were out of her mouth, she convulsed. Her spine stiffened and her shivers had nothing to do with the cold. Harris could stand no more. He felt the eruption deep in his groin. It might have been embarrassing had the circumstances been different, but as he tried to cover himself, tried to hide the results of Stacie’s hard ride, she shoved his hand away, pushed him back and practically fell into the space between them positioning herself so that she caught his release, all of it in her mouth. What could he say to that? What could he do but hold her there, helplessly grunting the weight of his need into the back of her throat. It was an act as intimate and as primal as the cougars mating on the rocks minutes ago. And sex, any kind of sex, with Stacie Emerson was worlds apart from any other sexual experiences he’d ever had. As she stood and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, the look of hunger in her eyes, the promise of more sex to come in the SUV before the trip home couldn’t help but lighten the mood. As they straightened and tucked and donned their packs, he wondered if that was maybe why she did it. Whatever her reason, it definitely worked for him in ways he was still trying to get his head around.

 

 

Available from:

eBook:

 

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Amazon AU

Amazon CA

iBooks UK

iBooks US

Kobobooks.com

Xcite Books

 

Print:

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Barnes & Noble

Powell’s

The Book Depository

Waterstones

Xcite Books

 

 

Out Now—A Harmless Little Plan (The Harmless Series Book 3) by Meli Raine (@meliraineauthor)

Release date: December 13, 2016

Genre: Romantic Suspense, Political Thriller

Description:

Turns out there was a second video from that awful night four years ago. Mine wasn’t the only tape.

Too bad mine wasn’t the worst.

Drew can’t protect me no matter how hard he tries, but the roles are flipped now. I have to help him, but I’m not wired that way. Not anymore. That one night changed me more than anyone knows.

More than anyone could predict.

Three men think they’re above the law. They’re right.

But I’m willing to go beneath the law to make sure they never harm anyone else. Their threats don’t scare me.

When you have nothing left to lose because someone took it all away, you create the most dangerous creature imaginable.

Me.

Game over.

* * *

A Harmless Little Plan is the final in this political thriller/romantic suspense trilogy by USA Today bestselling author Meli Raine. This series includes:

A Harmless Little Game

A Harmless Little Ruse

Buy links

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2fwWLxE
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2fyBsKD
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/2fUQWN8
Amazon AU: http://amzn.to/2faFJag
B& N: http://bit.ly/2faAWW7
iBooks: http://apple.co/2fauvTb
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2fyAnCq
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2fyAIoV

Author Bio:

Meli Raine writes romantic suspense with hot bikers, intense undercover DEA agents, bad boys turned good, and Special Ops heroes — and the women who love them.

Meli rode her first motorcycle when she was five years old, but she played in the ocean long before that. She lives in New England with her family.

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://meliraine.com/

Newsletter:  http://eepurl.com/beV0gf

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/meliraine

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/meliraineauthor

Excerpt

They have to feed me.

Right?

Unless they plan to kill me in the next couple of hours.

If they’re not feeding me, is that a sign? Or are they just assholes who don’t care about feeding me? My stomach gurgles. Then it makes an epic sound, like wet boulders being dragged through mud with air pockets.

Muffled voices provide a strange background sound. None of their words is distinct, but the accumulation of them stacks up to create a ribbon of sound. Whatever they’re planning for me, they’re not tipping their hands.

I’m left without a voice, without a way to get out, and without Drew.

Time keeps changing. I’m on the bed again, but sitting up against the headboard, my hands in front of me in a zip tie. It’s better than having them behind me. Hurts less.

That’s how I measure time now. Through pain. Less pain = easier to pass time.

Time slows when the pain increases.

I can’t think forward, either. If I anticipate time, think about the future, the pain increases, too.

Mental pain.

Mental pain that will soon convert to physical pain.

What are they going to do to me?

As I move, my hair tickles my neck. Because I’m living with my skin on fire, every nerve quick and ready to react, even a gentle touch like strands of hair against my skin feels horrible. My mind keeps playing through memories of the video I’ve seen of what they did to me.

My gut tightens. I’m close to throwing up.

If they’re going to torture me and kill me, I wish they’d just do it.

But then again, if I draw this out long enough, Drew may have enough time to find me and save me.

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

 

The Sexy Librarian has Something Especially For the Men (and the Women Who Love Them)

 

 

It’s absolutely my pleasure to have the wonderful Emmanuelle de Maupassant back on A Hopeful Romantic today, and this time she’s talking about a fantastic new anthology called  For the Men (and the Women Who Love Them) edited by the fabulous Rose Caraway  What a holiday treat this anthology is, and Emmanuelle is here to give you the details.

 

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I’m so excited to appear in a wonderful new anthology, written For the Men (and the Women Who Love Them), edited (and narrated) by Rose Caraway.

 

We take for granted that erotic fiction is the realm of women, as writers and readers, but there’s no reason why men shouldn’t enjoy creating and consuming sex on the page (or via audio). In fact, it’s in our interest to encourage them to do so!

 

Rose emphasizes, “We want men included in this creative, erotic space because they’ve been too long told that they shouldn’t. We want/need men writing and reading, thinking about and expressing their erotic selves. It’s how we, as couples and individuals can better understand and support one another. Erotica is for men and women both.”

 

‘For the Men’ features tales written by men, alongside women. They are intentionally diverse in style and theme, as well as in content, reflecting a range of sexual tastes. The collection brings us perspectives male and female, and explores universal preoccupations: those relevant to us all.

 

A prominent theme through the anthology is that of exhibiting our sexual selves, of revealing what is usually concealed, for the delectation of other eyes. There are tales not only of being watched, but of watching, illicitly, or through invitation. Of course, we might say that the very act of reading is voyeuristic (magnified many-fold when we’re reading erotic fiction).

 

adrea-kore-for-the-men-quote-erotic-fiction

 

 

Adrea Kore, in Dance for Me, explores seduction through performance, showing a woman’s elation and liberation through ownership of her sexuality. Her character reveals herself through dance, and is ‘fully seen’. In this way, she demonstrates both vulnerability and power. Adrea tells us, “I love dancing, and have often noticed how much men love being ‘danced to’. The first half of Dance for Me is only a slight fictionalization of a night out I shall always remember. Gorgeously corseted for my date, it was a spontaneous flow of events – but I got to be ‘the girl in the cage’ that night. The spontaneity of it all meant there was very little time for me to be nervous!” Adrea stresses the transformational potential of our sexual fantasies. She tells us, “If readers feel inspired by this story to own and explore their fantasies, I’ll feel my work as ‘sexual provocateur’ is done.”

 

Interestingly, the collection features two ‘handyman stories’: one written by Jade A. Waters and the other by Spencer Dryden, giving a male and female perspective. Jade’ recalls her crush on the stranger who came to work on her satellite dish, admitting that she considered trying to get him back for ‘more repairs’. Her tale is sassy and humorous. “It came together like a lust letter in my head!” she admits, adding, “While I think ‘no strings attached sex’ often appeals to men, I don’t think that’s lost on women, either.’

 

rachel-de-vine-erotic-fiction

 

Rachel de Vine’s Hitchhiker gives us a female protagonist with an uninhibited attitude to sex. She recalls her own youthful days of hitch-hiking around Europe, feeling that ‘anything was possible’. Rachel underlines her intention of presenting hiker Jezebel ‘without her being judged and found morally lacking’. She tells us, “I wanted my female character to be bold and fearless, and honest about her intentions and needs.”

 

for-the-men-erotic-fiction-tj-christian-quote-enhanced

 

When we enter the realm of fantasy, there are no limits, so it’s no surprise that two of the tales in ‘For the Men’ have sci-fi settings. One is T.J. Christian’s Enhanced, which evokes the stylishly sexy 1982 film Bladerunner. It probes the pitfalls of technology, in a society where upgrades to our limitations are the norm. In such a world, the author speculates, wouldn’t we lose sight of what’s real, and what it means to be human, where ‘the lines between human and artificial become blurred’?

 

Sonni de Soto’s Odd Man explores the psychology of jealousy, and the vulnerability of our relationships, drawing on her own experience of polyamory. Sonni speculates on the pressures men face, in a world where many traditions are being dismantled.

 

Meanwhile, Charlie Powell’s tale explores lost love and our desire to be unfaithful, set during a hen celebration, with the temptation of an old flame. Marc Angel also delves the theme of infidelity, when his protagonist discovers his wife unexpectedly in the arms of another. He examines the anger and pain of betrayal, as well as feelings of arousal and shame.

 

emmanuelle-de-maupassant-for-the-men-anthology

 

Labyrinth, my own story, tackles our compulsion to hurt those we love (whether physically or emotionally). We are shaped by all that has gone before, and the promise of what is yet to come, wandering our personal maze, ever seeking, though for what, we may be unsure. Within, are our unspoken desires, and our fears, our ‘monsters’, which must be slayed.

 

Erotic fiction offers an amazing space in which to taste the unexpected, and the uninhibited. In ‘For the Men’, twenty-five authors have pooled their talent to bring you tales of temptation and seduction.

 

Sample them alone, or with your lover…for-the-men_official-cover-copy

 

An audio version is also available to complement the e-book (narrated by huskily voiced Rose Caraway).

 

The collection features works by Emmanuelle de Maupassant, Adrea Kore, Tamsin FlowersRachel Kramer BusselAllen Dusk, Terrance Aldon Shaw, Rachel de Vine, Jade A WatersDorothy FreedD.L. KingChase Morgan, Marc AngelCharlie Powell, Landon Dixon, Sonni de Soto, D. Lovejoy, Erin Pim, J.T. Seate, Spencer Dryden, Winter Blair, Simon Drax, Lynn Lake, Josie Jordan, Daily Hollow, and T.J. Christian.

 

 

Read more from Emmanuelle on her site:

www.emmanuelledemaupassant.com

 

 

 

Sunday Blissemas Snog: A Valentine for Christmas

blissemas-snog-in-the-snow-bk-snogsinthesnow

 

I love a good kiss, don’t you? Well pucker up! It’s time for the Blissemas Snogs in the Snow! I’m posting a snog from A Valentine for Christmas — my novella from the fabulous Love Under the Mistletoe Anthology.

AND! While I’m not giving a Valentine for Christmas, I AM giving away a copy of winner’s choice from my back list, excluding box sets, of course. Just comment for a chance to win. And be sure to stop by the Blissemas page to see what other fabulous posts are up and maximise your chance to win a fully-loaded Kindle Voyage.

 

A Valentine for Christmas Blurb:

All work and no play, bah humbugging CEO, Gerard Jasper’s, anonymous Christmas gift is actually a Valentine — Moira ‘R.M.’ Valentine, the mysterious CEO of the Valentine Corporation. Moira’s walk on the wild side has accidentally landed her naked and bound with red ribbon under Gerard’s tree – not good when their companies are negotiating the deal of a lifetime. When two lonely people with enough baggage to fill a 747 come together for Christmas, the fireworks rivals New Years at Times Square, but can they overcome their pasts to give each other the true gift — a merger of hearts?

 

 

cariad-christmas-2014-collectionGet some Rest or Santa Won’t Come –Excerpt:

 

He made no apologies as he came in her mouth, even as she struggled to take him all in. He made no apologies for the tightening of his fist in her hair, for the fact that he had come so quickly and so hard, causing her to gag and swallow furiously several times before he collapsed back on the sofa, before she relaxed her mouth, released his well-worked cock, and rested her head in his lap, gasping for breath. For a time that could have been seconds, could have been hours, he leaned back against the sofa with his eyes closed, drifting. At some point the white-knuckled grip he’d had in her hair relaxed and opened and he began to stroke the cascading locks that were softer than silk, a repetitive motion that calmed him, took him away from himself as nothing had in a very long time. When he came back to the present, he could feel her warm, even breathing against his bare groin and, even though it couldn’t have been long, his cock was already responding to the thought of what this woman had just done to him, what she had allowed him to do to her, all against his better judgment. Okay, no matter what she said, she was still a prostitute – had to be. But she was a gift, a feisty, cheeky, sexy gift, who seemed to intuit exactly what he needed, and at least for now, she was all his. How pathetic was he that he grasped at such a gift, allowing himself refuge in something so contrived, something that was escapism and nothing else? Still, the long holiday weekend looming before him suddenly didn’t seem quite so endless.

When he leaned forward and kissed her head, she moaned softly and looked up at him. He managed to partially do up his fly against a package that was already reasserting its dominion, then he stood and lifted her once again. Since she couldn’t slip her arms around his neck, she buried her face against his shoulder, and he could feel her muscles tensing against him as he mounted the stairs, her weight strangely balancing his own. In his room, he lowered her onto the mattress of the big four-poster bed, then he untied her feet, carefully massaging the circulation back into her ankles and calves before he moved to do the same to her hands. All the while she moaned her pleasure and relief, eyelids fluttering, lips parted and swollen, a tantalizing reminder of what she could do with that delicious mouth. ‘That’s better,’ she sighed. ‘Oh God, that’s so much better. What the …?’ Her eyes burst open and she squirmed as he bound the ribbon back around her wrists and tied them above her head to the bed frame.

‘I like you bound,’ he said, pausing to drop a kiss on each of her heavy nipples when he finished. He wasn’t sure, but he thought the little moan that escaped her throat was not total disagreement. With the other ribbon, he tied one ankle to one post at the foot of the bed, then yanked off his loosened tie and secured the other to the opposite post so that this time her legs were wide open and she was helplessly exposed and yielded for his explorations. Surveying his efforts, he then took a fluffy white pillow and eased it beneath her bottom, forcing her hips forward so that she opened like ripe fruit in a display case, succulent and swollen, offered up just for him.

For a moment, he knelt between her legs, not touching, just looking and admiring the pouting, feminine landscape glistening with her arousal. When she wriggled slightly and whimpered, he looked up into

her bright eyes shaded with thick lashes, dilated pupils holding his gaze with anxious curiosity. ‘Most Christmas gifts come with operating directions. Since you didn’t, well,’ he slid a hand up the inside of her thigh until his thumb slightly grazed the pebbled hardness just below her pubic curls and she sucked a tight breath and bucked against his touch, ‘I’ll just have to experiment, won’t I?’ With that, he slipped two fingers between her soft folds and her whole body quivered as he opened her, his eyes locked on her slick mother of pearl pout, heavy and swollen.

‘Do you remember when you were a child and you got gifts for Christmas or your birthday, and you just had to figure out how they worked, what made them do the amazing things they did?’ He ran the edge of his thumb over her hardness and she shivered and clenched at his fingers.

‘I remember, yes!’ she gasped, and ground her bottom against the pillow.

‘I’ve always wanted to know what it looks like when a woman comes. I mean what it looks like up close and personal blissemas2016-buttondown where everything’s swollen and slick and ready to burst.’ He withdrew his fingers, now slippery with her lust, and eased them upward around her folds, splaying, tweaking, stroking. ‘I’m guessing sucking my cock like you did turned you on some because you’re clearly aroused.’ He lifted his wet fingers into her field of vision to demonstrate, and then still watching those china blue eyes, he flicked his tongue out, licking the taste of her, feeling his cock surge in response, hearing her soft, kitten-like mew. ‘Do you know,’ he said, fingering her open again, ‘you’re the colour of ripe cherries when you’re aroused?’ He slid two fingers back up inside her and she bit her lip and shivered. ‘And you feel, my God, you feel like wet, warm silk tightening around me each time I stroke you.’ He demonstrated by

pushing into her knuckle deep and scissoring his fingers. She arched her back and lifted her hips to match his movement. ‘I’m torturing myself imagining what that tight, wet grip will feel like when I fuck you. And from the feel of you,’ he raked her clitoris and she whimpered, ‘I’d say the torture is mutual. In fact, I’d imagine you really do need to come after taking me in your mouth like you did.’

Without warning, he leaned in and ran his tongue up from where his fingers splayed her all the way to her clit, her tidal pool scent rich and intoxicating. With a deep inhale of her need, he clamped down on her clitoris, licked it, drew his lips tight around it and then bit, pulling back just as she yelped and bucked and all but hyperventilated when she came. ‘Ah, exquisite,’ he breathed. ‘Your orgasm is like tiny little earthquakes making that whole ripe fruit girly landscape of yours tremble and clench, so tight, oh so tight. Have you ever watched yourself come?’

‘No, I haven’t.’ Her words were clipped, distracted as she rode the last of her orgasm, bucking against the thrust and press of his fingers, first two and then three.

lipssugar-lips-kisses-hd-desktop-wallpaper-widescreen-backgrounds-for-mobile-tablet-and-pc-free-images-download‘A pity,’ he said. ‘You really should. I can’t tell you how sexy you are when you come, especially when you’re desperate for a good release, after you’ve felt the extent of my lust.’

Still stroking he arched above her, stretching to reach for the drawer of the nightstand where he kept the condoms he very rarely needed. ‘In all honesty,’ he withdrew his hand and she groaned her frustration watching with anxious eyes as he undid his trousers and released his cock into the condom, ‘I doubt that you can even imagine the extent of my lust.’ With that, he shoved into her hard, and she growled out loud like a wild animal in the hunt, her grip on his cock nearly sending him over before he was ready.

As he shifted his hips to deepen his position, he ran his hands up over her breasts then settled his weight on his elbows, and she spoke with a hiss of breath. ‘Oh, I think I can imagine the extent of your lust just fine.’ With that her grip tightened again, and he began to thrust.

It was the frustration of needing to feel more of her against him that caused him to withdraw long enough to untie her

legs before he sank back into her tight slick depths. With a groan that felt like it came from the very core of her, she wrapped herself around him and gripped him even tighter. Her breath was fast and furious, the purr of pleasure became a growl of desperation as she matched him thrust for thrust, tight and swollen and slippery.

He took her mouth, tasting the residue of his own lust still lingering there on her tongue, and that drove him until the weight of his need was practically unbearable. ‘You’re my gift,’ he spoke between lavings of his tongue as it danced with hers. ‘So come for me. Come for me now. I want to feel you when you come.’

More than likely it wasn’t so much his command as it was her own overwhelming need, but the cry that erupted from her throat as she clenched and convulsed was raw and guttural and he matched it, unable to hold out any longer in the grip of her release, stunned that he could come again so hard so soon.

As he fumbled to untie her arms to wind them around his neck, she giggled softly in his ear. ‘I guess you’re convinced mistletoethen that I’m not hiding a gun.’

He shoved the duvet back and pulled her under it with him. ‘What’s your name?’ he whispered in her ear. ‘My gift surely has to have a name.’

For a moment, he thought she wasn’t going to answer him, then she sighed softly and wriggled down close to him. ‘Moira. My name’s Moira.’

‘Moira,’ he whispered, kissing the pulse in her neck. ‘Get some rest, Moira, or Santa won’t come.’

She offered a throaty giggle. ‘I think he already did. Twice.’

 

 

Find Love Under the Mistletoe Here:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA

 

Travel Erotica: The Return Home

airport-2By the time you’re reading this, final instalment of my travel erotica posts, I should be arriving in Heathrow after two weeks with my sister in snowy Central Oregon. Let’s face it, getting to and from the airport is an essential part of the flight. For no one is that more true that Stella James in The Pet Shop. Enjoy her journey.

 

Warning: Adult Content!

 

The Pet Shop Blurb:

In appreciation for a job well done, STELLA JAMES’s boss sends her a Pet for the weekend – a human Pet. The mischievous TINO comes straight from THE PET SHOP complete with a collar, a leash, and an erection. Stella soon discovers that the pleasure of keeping Pets, especially this one, is extremely addicting.

Obsessed with Tino and with the reclusive philanthropist, VINCENT EVANSTON, who looks like Tino, but couldn’t be more different, Stella is drawn into the secret world of The Pet Shop. As her animal lust awakens, Stella must walk the thin line that separates the business of pleasure from the more dangerous business of the heart or suffer the consequences.

 

 

 

The Pet Shop Excerpt — Nature Reserve Encounters & Limo Rides:

 

thepetshopShe stumbled up the boardwalk just as the introduction finished, nearly falling against a man draped in half a dozen cameras.

And suddenly there was Tino, looking rugged and considerably less vulnerable in his kaki trousers and cotton shirt. He waited politely for the applause to die down, then he spoke. ‘As most of you know, I grew up not far from here.’ The resonant voice and the American accent were a slap-in-the-face reminder that this was most definitely Vincent Evanston. How could Tino possibly be an American? She listened as he spoke.

‘My best memories are of a pair of barn owls who took up residence on our farm the year I turned twelve. All that summer, my best friend and I watched those owls, even rigged up a camera and got some pretty decent photos. In fact, we were so obsessed with those birds that we started a secret club in their honour. We called ourselves the Night Owls. Those owls successfully raised five chicks that year, and I fell in love.’

He looked over his shoulder and nodded at the lake behind him. ‘Places like this are important, not just because of the sanctuary they give wildlife, but because they offer all of us an opportunity to fall in love. With nature.’ His gaze moved over the crowd, came to rest on her, then moved on. She felt as though she had been gut punched, and yet what had she expected him to do? Forget everything and come running to her. He hadn’t been all that happy to see her in the wood, and he wasn’t likely to be any more happy now that she had practically stalked him here. Maybe he hoped if he ignored her, she’d go away. Surely this man couldn’t be her Tino.

He continued. ‘I have a reputation for being a recluse, but I’m not really.’ He offered a mischievous chuckle. ‘I just prefer the company of the residents of a place like this over you lot.’

To the sound of laughter and applause, he cut the red ribbon stretched across the viewing platform and stood smiling, shaking hands while camera’s snapped, and reporters asked questions. People adorned in binoculars and birding scopes now lined the rail of the viewing platform. The chill in the air as the damp summer sun fell below the wooded foothills made Stella’s nipples ache through the ridiculously thin dress.

She was halfway back to her car, feeling stupid and self conscious, when a strong arm slipped around her waist, and a familiar scent filled her nostrils. She looked up into Tino’s dark eyes.

‘What are you doing here?’ It still came as a shock to hear Tino speaking.

‘I saw your picture in the Oregonian.’

‘So you thought you’d just drop in.’

‘You are Tino, aren’t you?’

He picked up the pace. ‘Tino’s not here.’ With his arm around her waist, he guided her away from her car to a waiting limo.’

She didn’t protest as he opened the door and helped her inside, sliding in next to her. Then he knocked on the privacy window and the driver took off.

‘Seems a strange vehicle to bring to a nature reserve,’ she said.

‘I didn’t bring it,’ he said. ‘But you can’t go back in what I came in.’

‘Then you have to be Tino, or you wouldn’t have –’

He covered her mouth in an insistent kiss. ‘What?’ He spoke against her lips ‘You think I wouldn’t notice the sexy airport-3English bird distracting me from the all the other birds.’ He teased her lips apart, sparring with her tongue, making her insides feel like warm toffee. She was relieved to hear no anger in his voice.

She came up for breath. ‘But how else would you — ’

He nipped and tugged on her lip. ‘Tino’s not here,’ he whispered against her mouth, slurring his words with the flick of his tongue. ‘There’s just Vincent.’

‘What are you, schizo then?’ she let out a little gasp as he nibbled her earlobe then the hollow of her throat.

‘Didn’t you take psychology 101? We all have more than one person living inside us, Stella.’

‘Where are we going?’ She asked, feeling suddenly frightened as the driver turned onto the main road and picked up speed.

‘Portland.’

‘But my car. It’s a hire, and my bags –’

He kissed her again, and his hand moved up the inside of her thigh. ‘Don’t worry. My people will take care of everything.’

‘But I thought –’ With a sharp little gasp, she suddenly forgot how to speak, as his fingers slid aside the crotch of her thong.

‘Did you wear these for Tino, hoping he’d take them off with his teeth?’ He raked the hood of her clit with a heavy thumb, sending a jolt of heat radiating out over her belly and down through her slit. “Because I won’t bother. I’m not here for your entertainment.’

‘I never thought that you were,’ she said, giving him an ineffective shove with the flat of her hand. But he took her mouth again, and the way his tongue invaded and withdrew and invaded again, the way his fingers teased and retreated and teased again at the very edge of her gape made her stop thinking about… well everything, really.

He pulled away at last and held her gaze. ‘We have until we get to Portland, Stella. You can waste time trying to find out about Tino or,’ he slid his middle finger into her slick pout. ‘You can spend that time with Vincent.’ His thumb pressed tight little circles around her clit. ‘It can be such a pleasant drive to Portland.’

‘I don’t even know Vincent,’ she gasped. ‘You never gave me a chance.’

‘As I recall, you overwhelmed me. I wasn’t prepared.’

‘You were scared.’

He held her gaze. ‘I didn’t say that.’

‘But you were. I think you were — ’

He kissed her hard, and when he pulled away they were both breathless. ‘Stop talking, Stella. There are lots better uses of our time.’ He demonstrated by burrowing, face first, into her well displayed cleavage, wasted on the herons and otters at the nature reserve. He shoved aside the plunge neckline and push-up bra, until her breasts tumbled over like willing conspirators into his large palms.

The seat in the limo was almost big enough for an orgy. She lost the kitten heels and her toes curled in the plush carpet as he slid a second finger into her.

‘Not appropriate footwear for a nature reserve. Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time?’ He nodded to her shoes. Then he huffed an exaggerated groan. ‘My back still hurts from piggybacking you.’

She reached out to slap him playfully, but he caught her wrist and held her in a serious gaze. ‘You could have broken an ankle or worse.’ He pulled her down and shifted her until she lay full length on the seat. The he lifted her foot to his lips, bathing her heel in his hot breath. ‘None of this is necessary for Tino, or me. What were you thinking?’ His words slurred as he ran his tongue up over her instep and suckled each toe in turn, causing her to buck against the seat as her pussy gripped his fingers like a hungry mouth.

He trailed kisses and nips and love bites over her ankle and up the inside of her thigh while the relentless hand working her pussy never missed a beat. And when his mouth caught up with his hand, he shoved at the crotch of her thong until it was stretched uselessly over one arse cheek, leaving her splayed and twitchy and ready for the take-over. ‘I wanted to taste you out there under the trees, but you were so cold. I was worried.’ He didn’t wait for her response, but lowered his face and lapped at her clit and suckled her labia until she was heavy and distended, still gripping his probing fingers. She heard the sound of a zipper, the swish of clothing, and he pushed into her with a groan. ‘You shouldn’t have come here.’ He held very still, making her wait with his fullness inside her. Making her want. ‘It’s a complication neither of us needs.’

‘But I am here now, and we can’t go back,’ she breathed. She tried to thrust against him.

Still he didn’t move, but he let her squirm beneath him, feeling like her cunt was on fire. ‘You didn’t come for me. You came for Tino.’ He rocked against her just enough for his body to rake her clit, and the shock of it felt like electricity jolting through her pussy. She clenched down hard on his cock.

‘Please! Can’t I have you both?’

‘No.’ He withdrew just enough to make her certain that his refusal to satisfy her would be beyond endurance. His breath was heavy, but measured, like he could go on for ever. And, dear God, she wanted him to. He held her gaze. ‘You airport-6can’t have both.’

And just when she was about to panic, to beg his forgiveness, to offer him anything to get him to continue, he released a long, slow breath and lowered his mouth to her nipples as though they had all the time in the world. He nibbling and suckled until her nipples were tight and tender in that tetchy place between pain and pleasure. Then he raised his dark eyes, suddenly so unlike Tino’s, and met her gaze. ‘Do you want Vincent?’

‘Yes. I want Vincent.’ She sighed. ‘Please.’

He released a breath she only now realized he’d been holding, then gathered her to him, cupping her buttocks in his hands to push deeper into her. She raised her arse, wrapped her legs around him and dug her heals in for the ride.

He was pitiless. He battered her with exquisite force until she was almost there, then he stopped, holding her so tightly that she couldn’t satisfy herself, she could do nothing but yield as he kissed her until her lips felt bruised, and nibbled her throat and neck until she trembled like light on the surface of water. Then he battered her again.

Just when she was certain she wouldn’t survive the trip to Portland, he shifted his embrace and pulled her on top of him, nearly toppling them both onto the floorboard in the process. ‘I’ll make you come now, Stella.’ His voice was raspy at the back of his throat. ‘Vincent will make you come.’

Perhaps it was some magic formula, she didn’t know, but with the gentle rocking of his hips like waves on a calm sea, and the stroking of his thumb against her clit, she came in whimpers and sobs. A few more thrust and she felt him clench beneath her, and his cock spasmed inside her.

 

‘Where are you taking me,” she asked. The streetlights indicated that they were in the suburbs of Portland.

Still naked, he knelt on the floorboard, wiping the wet folds of her vulva with his handkerchief. ‘The airport.’

She pushed his hand away. ‘I don’t have a ticket, and look at me, I’m a mess.’ To her irritation, she was suddenly fighting back tears.

He rose on his haunches and kissed her, cupping her cheek and pushing the hair away from he face. ‘I think you look exquisite. Now hold still. I’m not finished with your pussy yet, and I’m enjoying the view.’

She felt as though she would burst as the first signs for the airport came into view. She had gone to Lincoln City for answers, but she had gotten only more questions. ‘There’s so much I want to ask you, Vincent.’

‘Don’t. Because I won’t answer, and I don’t want to ruin what we’ve just shared.’

‘Will I see you again?’

He forced a smile. ‘You weren’t supposed to see me in the first place.’

Panic suddenly rose in her chest. ‘Will I see Tino?’

‘That’s up to The Pet Shop.’

The limo pulled to a stop, and the driver opened the door and helped her out. To her surprise, they weren’t at the departures drop-off point, with its manic coming and going of cars, disgorging people with too much luggage and too little time. Instead they were on a darkened runway. For a second, panic rose in Stella’s chest. Perhaps Vincent was schizo after all. Perhaps his intentions were more sinister than a flight back to London.

But before the thought was fully formed, he nodded above the roof of the limo. ‘The plane’s there.’

‘Bloody hell!’ Beyond the car was a sleek private jet, smartly dressed staff standing at the ready near the foot of the airport-7stairs leading to the open door.

‘Come on.’ He slid an arm around her. ‘Your bags are already onboard, and your rental car has been returned. You’ll have time to freshen up. Pilot expects a smooth flight into London.’

Then everything happened so fast. At the bottom of the stairs, he gave her a kiss that nearly sent her pussy into melt-down again. Then he turned her over to the smiling attendant, and by the time she was at the top of the stairs, the limo was already pulling away.

 

Find The Pet Shop Here:

eBook:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Xcite Books
iBooks UK
iBooks US
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
Kobobooks.com

Print:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Waterstone’s
The Book Depository
Barnes & Noble
Xcite Books

 

 

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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