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A Free Snog in the Snow

 

 

 

It’s a double whammy today here on a Hopeless Romantic. It’s not only the last day of Blissemas and another chance to win the fab Blisemas grand prize with a Snog in the Snow, but this sizzling, snowy snog is from my MM paranormal, novella, Landscapes, which is free at the moment along with a lot of other fab MM reads for the Love Under the Mistletoe MM Christmas Frolic. Follow either of the above links for your copy.

 

Comment on any of the Snog in the Snow blog posts offered up today for another chance to win a fully-loaded Kindle Fire 7! 

Landscapes Blurb:

Alonso Darlington has a disturbing method of keeping landscaper, Reese Chambers, both safe from and oblivious to his dangerous lust for the man. But Reese isn’t easy to keep secrets from, and Alonso wants way more than to admire the man from afar. Can he risk a real relationship without risking Reese’s life?

Note: Landscapes has been previously released as part of the Brit Boys: On Boys boxed set.

 

Landscapes Snog in the Snow Excerpt — Heart’s Blood:

‘You could have told me.’ The sound of his voice clenched my heart. For a moment I was certain I was dreaming. Reese constantly tortured me from the dream world. But I was awake, wide awake, and as the breeze shifted I could smell his sweet blood. ‘You could have come to me in the beginning. I’m not that unapproachable.’

With difficulty I found my voice, as though it were something long lost from me. ‘Perhaps you were too approachable.’ I gathered my wits, what little were left to me, and turned to face him. His hair was a bit longer, blown by the wind, and the stubble of a long day caressed his cheeks, and God, he was as beautiful as I remembered. Then I smelled Talia on him, felt her magic tingling over his skin. ‘She shouldn’t have come to you. If you’re back here because you feel sorry for the poor vampire, then maybe I’ll rip your throat out and drain you and you can see where your sympathy gets you.’

He moved to stand next to me, knee-deep in the snow that buried the half-finished garden. ‘You won’t get any sympathy from me. You were a complete twat. You should be damn glad I’m not wearing garlic and sporting a stake. You didn’t ask for what happened to you, Alonso. I get that. And even if you did, we play with the hand we’re dealt. All of us.’

There was a hitch in his breath and I could almost taste the heat of his blood in the soft spot at his throat. In a wave of dizziness I stepped away. ‘Afraid I’m not very good at cards. What did you come for Reese?’

‘I came to say I’m sorry, to say that I forgive you and to ask your forgivness.’

I dropped onto the bench as though I were suddenly boneless. To my distress, he sat down next to me and pulled the wool scarf away from his exquisitely tender throat. His pulse was rapid with excitement. With fear. ‘You need to feed, Alonso, you look like hell.’ He pulled open the collar of his shirt. ‘Take from me.’

‘Christ, Reese,’ I shoved off the bench, back-pedaling until I nearly tripped over a pile of stones buried under the snow. ‘You can’t make that offer, not now.’

‘I … I don’t understand. You still want me. I saw that. Talia showed me, and God knows I want you.’

‘Of course I want you. Like I’ve never wanted anything in my life, but I’m not safe Reese. I haven’t fed in … too long. The very scent of you is driving me mad. If I take from you, I won’t be able to stop.’

‘I don’t believe that,’ he said. ‘I’m willing to risk it.’

‘Well I’m not. Your death may mean nothing to you, but it’s not a risk I’m willing to take, and believe me the risk is very real.’

I smelled the sharpening of fear, as he scrambled off the bench. The night was icy cold and heavy with the threat of snow. I could sense him shivering even through his coat. He squared his shoulders and spoke between chattering teeth. ‘What do you want me to do, Alonso. Tell me, and I’ll do it.’

I took a deep breath, struggling to clear my head. ‘Go to the house – to the kitchen. Cook is asleep but there’ll be food. Eat.’

‘I already ate, Talia insisted.’

‘Eat again,’ I commanded, turning to face him just to make sure he was really there and not something my desperate imagination had conjured. ‘Because when I return,’ I held his gaze ‘you’ll need all of your strength. We both will. Go! Now!’

 

Reese paced Alonso’s study while Talia sat on the Cordovan leather sofa pretending to read a novel. ‘It’s almost dawn,’ he said, for the third time in ten minutes. ‘Where the hell is he?’ The snow had set in soon after Alonso had left. How well a vampire could cope with a blizzard, Reece didn’t know.

‘It’s not like going down to the pub.’ Talia sat the book down and gazed up at the monitor above his desk, the one that showed what Alonso would see if there had been a window there. ‘He’s careful when he feeds, never leaving any trace. Besides, he knows the Lakes like the back of his hand. He won’t get caught out. High View is honeycombed with caves. There are also a few old slate quarries, as you know.’ She motioned him into the rough stone corridor and led him down to the Day Room. There, the only space that wasn’t filled with monitors and controls was a worktable to one side spread with a large, laminated map of the area. She ran her finger along a bright red line leading from the house out to the backside of the fell. ‘There.’ She circled a spot on the map with a grease marker. ‘Pull up camera eight.’

At first the display on the big monitor looked blank, then the night cameras kicked in and they could see the rocky walls in monotone shades of green and gray. Reese recognized the cave he’d discovered Alonso in with the walker. At first they could see nothing, but suddenly there was a flash of movement across the screen, and then it was gone.

‘There,’ they both said at the same time.

‘Is there any way of adjusting that camera?’ Reese asked.

‘Not from here, but that cave opens into a tunnel that leads to the wine cellar. It’s wired to send a signal if anyone but Alonso or a designated person is there.’

‘Show me where it’s at. It could be that he’s in there and he’s hurt. Look,’ he said when she raised a skeptical eyebrow, ‘I can’t lose him before I get the chance to properly make things right between us, so where’s the damned wine cellar?’

She gave him directions, then stayed near the monitors to watch. The fell tops were already tinged with gray from the coming sunrise, and Reese could barely keep back his rising panic.

He was down the steps and halfway across the cavernous wine cellar, when a door at the back burst open, and Alonso pushed his way in, dark hair glistening beneath the bare light bulb with a generous dusting of snow. For a moment neither man spoke, but only stood gazing at the other. And then Reese found his voice. ‘I was worried. The sun’s coming up.’

‘It was the sheep,’ Alonso said. ‘They slowed me down a bit.’

‘Sheep?’

He brushed snow from the shoulders of his black wool coat, then offered Reese an embarrassed grin. ‘If I’d gone straight for the shepherd without an appetizer, I’m afraid he wouldn’t be home shagging his wife senseless right now.’

‘You had … sheep … for an appetizer?’

‘Well their blood at least. It’s a poor substitute, but it was necessary this time.’ The shepherd had managed to get all but three into the barn against the weather, which was bad enough that he had to hole up there until it passed. Good thing for me.’ He’ll think the sheep were lost in the storm, and when the weather clears enough that I can arrange it, he’ll find a nice fat wad of £20 notes stuffed in the seat of his Land Rover.’

‘You’re OK, then?’ Reese stepped closer, relief flooding his senses and making him weak.

Alonso held his ground. ‘That depends on you.’

The next step forward was uncertain. The one after that wasn’t, as Reese moved into Alonso’s arms, feeling the chill of the wet snow, smelling the scent of Cumbrian winter and beneath that the spicy, earthy scent of the man. For a long time they stood in each other’s arms, until Reese began to shiver, and Alonso opened his coat and pulled him in to his body, warm from feeding.

‘You’re well fed then?

He lowered his mouth to Reese’s throat and kissed the shudder of his pulse. ‘I am. Now all I’m hungry for is you.’ The rocking of his hips alerted Reese to the erection nestled in his trousers. That and the careful rake of his canines against Reese’ throat made his own cock rise to attention.

Much later, Alonso lay with Reese pulled into a spoon position in his big four-poster bed, his hand absently cupping first Reese’s cock, then his sac until, in spite of the whirlwind of sex they’d already had, Reese rocked his hips slowly back and forth into his grip. ‘I know you have questions,’ Alonso said. He rose up on one elbow and kissed Reese’ ear. ‘Don’t be afraid to ask. I’ll try very hard to give you answers. But there may be times when I won’t be able to. There may be times when I’ll have to work on it. But know this,’ he said,’ moving his hand over Reese’s hips to cup his arse and stroke the cleft in between. ‘I won’t lie to you, even though there’ll be answers you won’t like, answers that may shock you.’

‘I was with the succubus, remember? You’ll find I’m not so easy to shock anymore.’ With a contortionist twist of his upper body, he curled his fingers in Alonso’s mussed hair and guided his mouth down to meet his, kissing him hard leaving them both breathless as he pulled away. ‘I know your heart, Alonso. That’s why I came back. That’s what will hold me here.’

 

 

My Blissemas Celebration of the Dark

 

 

The season of Blissemas starts on the Ist Dec and will finish on the 17th. Every day of Blissemas a different erotic author will post up gems of delight in the guise of festive stories, excerpts, recipes, hints and tips, etc.

 

Leave a Comment on a Blissemas Blog and you will go into the Grand Prize draw to win yourself a Kindle 7 packed full of Smut! Come back each day for more chances to win.

 

 

 

Happy Blissemas everyone! Blissemas is my favourite blogging season. It’s always a delight to celebrate and anticipate with all my blogging and writing friends. Special thanks once again to Victoria and Kev Blisse for all they do to make Blissemas happen.

 

I’m a big fan of the dark. I love it a lot! What writer doesn’t love a character with a little darkness and conflict? Is there any better way to show the light in a character than by seeing it through his darkness?

 

The darkness is the realm of dreams and sleep. Bears hibernate, people bundle up and hunker down. I don’t know about you, but I’d happily go to bed at seven pm when it’s dark by four. And snuggling down under a nice thick duvet is one of the best things about the long winter nights. In the dark we reflect on what’s past. In the dark, we sleep and dream, and prepare for the return of the light.

 

The main reason I love the darkness is because it’s an exquisite showcase for the light. You can’t see light without darkness. And what that dark reveals is sometimes stunning. Ask anyone who has ever looked at the stars on a moonless night. Ask anyone who has ooohed and awed over the sparkling lights on their Christmas tree. Ask anyone who has huddled around a campfire telling ghost stories. It takes the dark to show off the light.

 

 

We humans know that deep in our bones. We’ve known that from the dawn of time. To me that’s what makes this season so special, so set apart from any other time of the year. It’s dark. It’s dark in the morning. It’s dark in the late afternoon. It feels like it’s been dark for-friggen-EVER! The days are short. And then it’s night and night and night …. Here in the UK, even when it’s day, it’s gloomy. But we know, we just KNOW like it’s some instinct inside us, that the light is coming back. Honestly, I’ve never felt the kind of anticipation I do this time of year. When I was a child, I anxiously looked forward to Santa Clause coming, but I don’t need Santa now. I don’t need gifts. Something even more amazing than Santa Clause and pressies and tinsel and trees is about to happen. The darkness has reached the tipping point. It’s as dark as it’s gonna get. And then … And then … Get ready for it. It’s time for the darkness to give it over and show off the return of the light.

 

Oh it’s not much at first. It isn’t even really noticeable. The Solstice comes and goes quietly and then like a coy seductive strip tease, the light is revealed, slowly, tantalizingly, flirtatiously. While we may not see it at first, we feel it in our gut, we feel it with a restless excited certainty that’s always there even if we can’t quite say how we know. And then, as the darkness gives up its best kept secret, that it’s the revealer of light, we look to new beginnings, new growth, new revelations that the light always brings. And we can’t help it really. We can’t help feeling like everything has been transformed and made new – axial tilt and chronobiololgy make room for a little raucous celebration and a whole lot of hope for what the light may bring.

 

Here’s to the light, my dear friends, and the velvety darkness that reveals it. Happy Holidays.

 

 

 

Be sure to check out the other fabulous Blissemas blog posts and comment for a chance to win the Kindle 7.

 

Sunday Blissemas Snog: A Valentine for Christmas

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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

 

Blissemas Snogs in the Snow: Sexy Kisses and Naughty Fun Under the Mistletoe

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It’s time for Blissemas Snogs in the Snow, and here’s a bit of Christmas in the City from my novella, A Valentine for Christmas, which is a part of the Chariad Love Under the Mistletoe Collection. I’m offering a little snog of my own, a bit of a stocking stuffer (you see what I did there) Comment to enter, and I’ll send an eBook copy of any novel on my back list to the winner — from K D’s novels or Grace Marshall’s. Your choice. You can check out my Book Page to see what tickles your fancy. I promise, your stocking will be well stuffed!

AND! Don’t forget to check out the great stories, posts and giveaways, on Blissemas every day through the 24th of December. You won’t want to miss out on anything!

Happy Blissemas!

 

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?

 

A Valentine for Christmas Excerpt:

It was late when Gerard got home – even later than he’d anticipated, but that was fine for him. Being tired enough to sleep for a week made facing the next few days a lot easier. He shoved out of his jacket and slung it over the ladder-back chair by the door, then loosened his tie, somehow not finding the strength to actually remove it completely. Ignoring the evergreen bunting strung across the balcony above the stairs, he made his way into his study. From the credenza across from his desk, he poured himself a neat whiskey then dropped into the Cordovan leather chair beside the fireplace. He tossed back the shot, then closed his eyes. He only intended to rest them for a few minutes before he went to the kitchen where he knew Olga had left food prepared for him. He’d specifically overseen the menu this time to make certain not a slice of turkey nor a smidge of cranberry sauce darkened the fridge. It was bad enough his apartment was decked out like Rockefeller Center, but at least he could dictate his own meals.

Yes, he had only planned to close his eyes for a minute, but it was a scuffling sound and a soft moan that startled him from sleep and from dreams of falling into deep, icy water. He opened his eyes and looked around. In the silence he could hear heavy breathing. There was another moan. He exhaled slowly and looked around the room. Carefully, cautiously, he leaned forward in the chair, wrapped his fingers around the poker in front of the fireplace, and pulled it free from its stand. Holding his breath, he came slowly to his feet.

There was more scuffling and a sharp, low grunt. It sounded as though it were coming from behind the Christmas tree. Fucking tree was a health hazard, a fire hazard, and Twyla never stopped to think that it was perfect for a thief to hide behind, though how the hell anyone could have gotten past his security was beyond him. He tightened his grip on the poker and raised it like a baseball bat. Bracing himself, he took a step forward, but the next moan he heard was decidedly feminine and it was definitely coming from under the tree! With a quick movement, he reached for the lamp near the chair and switched it on, and the moan became a little yelp of surprise.

Cariad Christmas 2014 Collection‘What the …’ Words died in his mouth as he lowered his arm and dropped the poker against the chair. He blinked twice then rubbed his eyes. Surely he still had to be dreaming. Thought this dream beat the hell out of the usual drowning dream. There was another moan and, as his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized it came from the woman lying on her side under the tree. She was completely naked except for the red velvet ribbons that seductively bound her wrists and her ankles. The only other thing she wore was a sprig of mistletoe pinned in the muss of thick, dark hair that fell over her shoulders, partially obscuring breasts that were obviously full enough to balance the rest of her figure that curved dangerously in all the right places. Even in that confused post-wake-up state, Gerard’s cock got the picture just fine. But what the hell was a naked woman doing tied up beneath his Christmas tree?

Before he could ask, the woman moaned again – louder this time – and doubled over as though she were in pain.

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ he asked, dropping to his knees, forgetting the fact that this chick had invaded his privacy.

‘Oh, God!’ she gasped. ‘It’s my leg. I have a cramp. In my left hip and it’s making my butt numb.’ She bit back a curse that he was pretty sure would have curled his hair if she’d let it fly. But he figured perhaps she was on her best behavior – red ribbons, mistletoe, and all.

It was then that both he and his cock remembered, at exactly the same time, that she was tied up. He was in complete control. He settled on his haunches and folded his arms across his chest. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he asked.

She moaned again and tried to shift to a more comfortable position, which made her breasts bounce and her hair slide away to reveal nipples, darkened and stiff atop goose-fleshed areolae. ‘I’m your Christmas present.’

He blinked. ‘My what?’

‘Christmas present? You know, happy holidays, noel, peace on earth … ouch! Oh hell, that hurts.’ She hissed between barely parted lips and writhed in a way that should have made him sympathetic, but only made him hornier. ‘Could you please untie me so I can take care of this cramp?’

‘My Christmas present?’
‘Yup. Ouch! Ow! Please!’
‘From whom?’ Oh fuck, the more she shifted and

shimmied, the more her breasts bounced. They were exquisite, and the more they bounced, the more of his brain function rerouted itself to his cock.

‘I don’t know,’ she bit back. ‘It’s a surprise.’

‘Clearly,’ he said. ‘But how do I know you’re for real?’ Surely Terrill and Twyla wouldn’t be so cheeky. Would they? He quickly added, ‘How do I know that the minute I untie you, you won’t try shoot me and rob me?’

She gave him a sour look. ‘Seriously? Where would I put a gun?’

His eyes followed down the curves of her body to the

juncture between her legs with its tight nest of dark curls.

Whatever it was she was about to say, she swallowed it and offered a forced smile that was not quite coquettish, and all the sexier for it. ‘You’re welcome to frisk me.’ She nodded down over her belly. ‘Just please untie me so I can work out this damned cramp.’

He studied her for a long moment while she writhed and bit a full bottom lip he found himself wanting to taste. ‘It was pretty ballsy of someone, anyone really, to send me a prostitute as a Christmas present.’ He leaned forward. ‘I don’t need to buy sex, you know?’

‘I’m not a prostitute and you’re not buying me.’ She sucked back a sharp breath. ‘I’m a gift. Pleeeeese,’ she begged, ‘untie me.’

‘I don’t need a gift. I didn’t ask for a gift.’

‘Of course you didn’t ask. That’s why they call it a gift.’ She practically bounced off the floor as another wave of pain hit.

‘I still don’t trust you,’ he said. ‘But I don’t like to see a woman in pain either.’ He heaved a hard-put-upon sigh and leaned forward, pulling her into his arms. She yelped as he scrambled to his feet and moved to the leather sofa in front of the fireplace. But instead of laying her down on it, he sat and turned her over his knee. What the hell was he doing? He should untie her, toss her in a taxi, and send her on her way.

‘You’re gonna spank me?’ Her voice came out high pitched and breathy. ‘I haven’t done anything.’

‘Might do, if you give me any grief,’ he said, realizing too late that draped across his lap as she was, she could definitely feel his erection. Well she was naked, wasn’t she? And he was a healthy male. How the hell was he supposed to respond? Besides, it wasn’t like she hadn’t been expecting to make him hard. ‘So tell me now,’ he said, keeping his voice as neutral as he did in

the boardroom in spite of the message his body was giving, ‘where does it hurt?’

‘My left hip, part of my butt cheek, and my upper thigh, where I was lying against the floor.’ Before he could respond, she wriggled her exquisite bottom and his cock surged beneath her. He swallowed back a tight moan. If she really were a Christmas gift, even he had to admit, she was the best he could ever remember getting.

‘Ow! Ow! Ow!’ She interrupted his silent admiration with a squirm and a curse, her bottom shimmying and thrusting her hips close to his very intrigued erection. ‘Do something! It hurts!’

Awkwardly, not knowing where to touch first, he began by massaging handfuls of well-muscled, perfectly rounded female hip; the feel nearly took his breath away.

‘Oh God! Oh God! Ow! Ow! Oh God! A little more on my butt,’ then she glanced over her shoulder when he stopped massaging. ‘Look, either untie me and let me take care of it myself or massage. It hurts!’

‘You’re pretty bossy for a sub,’ he said. ‘Maybe I should spank you.’

‘I don’t care if you spank me, but just take care of the cramp first. Besides, who said I was a sub?’

‘Well, aren’t you? You were all tied up.’

She jerked and nearly bucked off his lap. ‘Look I’ll be a sub, I’ll be a Dom, I’ll bark like a dog if you want bk-snogsinthesnow-buttonme to, just please massage already!’

It didn’t take many kneading handfuls of pliant bottom and thigh before he realized his mistake. The more he massaged, the more she squirmed and moaned across his lap and the harder it became for him to ignore his growing need – especially not with her running commentary.

‘Oh God! Oh God, yes! That feels so good. Ah! Ooooh! Yessss!’

He was just about to relent and untie her in order to

preserve what remained of his dignity when she stopped moving, causing his hands to still on her bottom. Then she dragged in a shaky breath and gave a little wiggle. ‘Do you want me to take care of you?’

He was about to lie to her and tell her he was just fine, when she gave a hard shrug and fell off his lap. With a little grunt on impact, she maneuvered herself with way more grace than he could have imagined under the circumstances until she knelt in front of him, looking up at him with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Her breasts rose and fell as each humid breath bathed his lap in heat. She gave the slightest inclination of her head toward his crotch, and he was lost. The woman knelt at his feet, red velvet ribbons binding her ankles and her hands behind her back, in the perfect position of submission. With another nod of her head, a lock of shimmering chestnut hair fell over one eye from where it had been pinned beneath the sprig of mistletoe, and she sighed softly as he gave in and fumbled with his fly.
He was awkward, like a fucking teenager, as he maneuvered himself free, but this time her moan was not one of pain, and his own moan, as she took the length of him into her mouth, was a close twin. He rested an uncertain hand on her head, and she made a hungry sound deep in her chest as he pulled her further onto him. Yes, perhaps she was a gift, bound as she was, with only her mouth free for him to use as he saw fit. She was a vessel for his lust, a lust that was breathtakingly heavy after being sublimated so long. She was a vessel, breasts heaving, lips pursed, muscles straining, holding herself still, allowing him to use her. He fisted his hands in her hair and thrust up off the sofa, grinding and shifting into the tight grip of her mouth, controlling her, moving her forward and back, forward and back against the thick of him. Yes she was a vessel for his lust, and she was his. All his.

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 Mistletoeholiday 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.

 

Buy Love Under the Mistletoe Here:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA

 

 

Celebrating Blissemas with The Best Gift

blissemas2014

Note: By commenting on this post you get 1 entry into the Blissemas  grand prize for a Kindle Paperwhite stuffed with smut. For a list of rules and other Blissemas blogs please check http://blissemas.co.uk .

*****

Wow! I can’t believe it’s time for Blissemas already! This year has gone so fast. For me, Blissemas is always one of the best parts of December, and December has a lot of really great parts! I’ve decided that for Blissemas this year, I’m going to share with you, hands down, what is for me, the very best part of the season, my best gift ever.

blissemas-btn10I specifically asked Victoria and Kev if I could do my Blissemas post on the 15th of December because, for me, Christmas comes early every year. The big celebration at our house takes place on the 15th of December, because it’s the day I got Raymond. Most of you know we’re not very traditional. We met, fell in love and married in the former Yugoslavia. Raymond was project manager on a project for a refinery in Bosnia, and every weekend, he drove the three hours to see me in Zagreb, Croatia. We were good friends for over a year, laughing together, cooking together, having long conversations over coffee. Then one day we realized that we were more than just friends, and we decided we wanted to get married before Raymond’s company sent him elsewhere to work. Once the decision was made, the best date ended up being right before Christmas, on the 15th. We delayed our honeymoon because Raymond was short-handed and he needed to stay close. That came later – in January.

What I remember most about our first Christmas together was that I was still a bride, and we were still celebrating our wedding. Somehow that seemed to be the most important part of the holiday, the two of us together. We bought a small tree and hung it with foil-wrapped chocolate decorations we’d found at the open market. We knew we wouldn’t have room in our luggage for decorations when it came time for us to leave and go on the road, so we simply ate them.

The flat we were living in didn’t really get any heat until late morning. In fact it never really got very warm. We made cornbread dressing for our Christmas dinner, and to keep warm we sat on the rug in front of the oven. Later we laughed that for entertainment, we watched the cornbread rise.

For Christmas dinner, we shared turkey we’d bought at the local market with Raymond’s colleagues from the refinery. Later in our flat, we wished our elderly landlord and his wife Sretan Bozic, then we cracked open one of the bottles of wedding champagne and sat on the floor in front of the oven where it was warm. We didn’t exchange Christmas gifts because we both got exactly what we wanted on the 15th of December. We’ve never really been big on giving gifts to each other. Maybe it’s because Christmas always comes early for us, and every year over and over again, we keep on getting exactly what we want, and so much more than we’d hoped for.

The excerpt I’m sharing with you today is from Cariad’s Love Under the Mistletoe collection. It’s from my novella, A Valentine for Christmas. Though it wasn’t my plan when I wrote the story or chose the title, it is pretty fitting, since on the 15th of December, a long time ago, in Zagreb Croatia, I did get my Valentine for Christmas.

 

And now, I’d like to celebrate the day with the gift of a Pet. With Blissemas, there’s always a whole lot of fantastic giveaways going on, and this time is no different, but if you’d like to comment and tell me what was the best gift you ever received, I’ll be giving away a copy of my novel, The Pet Shop, to the winning commenter.

Please remember: By commenting on this post you get 1 entry into the Blissemas  grand prize for a Kindle Paperwhite stuffed with smut. For a list of rules and other Blissemas blogs please check http://blissemas.co.uk .

The season of Blissemas starts on the Ist December and will finish on the 21st 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 more.

The Grand prize this year is a Kindle Paperwhite fully loaded with Smut with other hot and sexy random spot prizes EVERY DAY. So check back to the Blissemas site regularly and comment, share, like and tweet to win.

 

A Valentine for Christmas:

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?

Excerpt from A Valentine for Christmas:

blissemas-btn6It was late when Gerard got home – even later than he’d anticipated, but that was fine. Being tired enough to sleep for a week made facing the next few days a lot easier. He shoved out of his jacket and slung it over the ladder-back chair by the door, then loosened his tie, somehow not finding the strength to actually remove it completely. Ignoring the evergreen bunting strung across the balcony above the stairs, he made his way into his study. From the credenza across from his desk, he poured himself a whiskey, neat, then dropped into the Cordovan leather chair beside the fireplace. He tossed back the shot, then closed his eyes. He only intended to rest them for a few minutes before he went to the kitchen where he knew Olga had left food prepared for him. He’d specifically overseen the menu this time to make certain not a slice of turkey nor a smidge of cranberry sauce darkened the fridge. It was bad enough his apartment was decked out like Rockefeller Center, but at least he could dictate his own meals.

Yes, he had only planned to close his eyes for a minute, but it was a scuffling sound and a soft moan that startled him from sleep and from dreams of falling into deep, icy water. He opened his eyes and looked around. In the silence he could hear heavy breathing. There was another moan. He exhaled slowly and looked around the room. Carefully, cautiously, he leaned forward in the chair, wrapped his fingers around the poker in front of the fireplace and pulled it free from its stand. Holding his breath, he came slowly to his feet.

There was more scuffling and a sharp, low grunt. It sounded as though it were coming from behind the Christmas tree. Fucking tree was a health hazard, a fire hazard, and Twyla never stopped to think that it was perfect for a thief to hide behind, though how the hell anyone could have gotten past his security was beyond him. He tightened his grip on the poker and raised it like a baseball bat. Bracing himself, he took a step forward, but the next moan he heard was decidedly feminine and it was coming from under the tree! With a quick movement, he reached for the lamp near the chair and switched it on, and the moan became a little yelp of surprise

‘What the …’ Words died in his mouth as he lowered his arm and dropped the poker against the chair. He blinked twice then rubbed his eyes. Surely he still had to be dreaming. Thought this dream beat the hell out of the usual drowning dream. There was another moan and, as his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized it came from the woman lying on her side under the tree. She was completely naked except for the red velvet ribbons that seductively bound her wrists and her ankles. The only other thing she wore was a sprig of mistletoe pinned in the muss of thick dark hair that fell over her shoulders partially obscuring breasts that were obviously full enough to balance the rest of a figure that curved dangerously in all the right places. Even in that confused post-wake-up state, Gerard’s cock got the picture just fine, thank you! But what the hell was a naked woman doing tied up beneath his Christmas tree?

Before he could ask, the woman moaned again – louder this time – and doubled over as though she were in pain

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ He asked, dropping to his knees, forgetting the fact that this chick had invaded his privacy

Rockefeller Center at Christmas‘Oh, God!’ She gasped. ‘It’s my leg. I have a cramp. In my left hip and it’s making my butt numb.’ She bit back a curse that he was pretty sure would have curled his hair if she’d let it fly. But he figured perhaps she was on her best behavior – red ribbons, mistletoe and all.

It was then that both he and his cock remembered, at exactly the same time, that she was tied up. He was in complete control. He settled on his haunches and folded his arms across his chest. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ He asked

She moaned again and tried to shift to a more comfortable position, which made her breasts bounce and her hair slide away to reveal nipples darkened and stiff atop goose-fleshed areolae. ‘I’m your Christmas present.’

He blinked. ‘My what?’

‘Christmas present? You know, happy holidays, noel, peace on earth … ouch! Oh hell that hurts.’ She hissed between barely parted lips and writhed in a way that should have made him sympathetic, but only made him hornier. ‘Could you please untie me so I can take care of this cramp.

‘My Christmas present?’

‘Yup. Ouch! Ow! Please!’

‘From whom?’ Oh fuck, the more she shifted and shimmied, the more her breasts bounced and they were exquisite, and the more they bounced, the more of his brain function rerouted itself to his cock.

‘I don’t know,’ she bit back. ‘It’s a surprise.’

‘Clearly,’ he said. ‘But how do I know you’re for real?’ Surely Terrill and Twyla wouldn’t be so cheeky. Would they? He added quickly, ‘How do I know that the minute I untie you, you won’t try shoot me and rob me?’

She gave him a sour look. ‘Seriously? Where would I put a gun?’

His eyes followed down the curves of her body to the juncture between her legs with its tight nest of dark curls

Whatever it was she was about to say, she swallowed it and offered a forced smile that was not quite coquettish, and all the sexier for it. ‘You’re welcome to frisk me.’ She nodded down over he belly. ‘Just please untie me so I can work out this damned cramp.’

He studied her for a long moment while she writhed and bit a full bottom lip he found himself wanting to taste. ‘It was pretty ballsy of someone, anyone really, to send me a prostitute as a Christmas present.’ He leaned forward. ‘I don’t need to buy sex, you know?’

‘I’m not a prostitute and you’re not buying me.’ She sucked back a sharp breath. ‘I’m a gift. Pleeeeese,’ she begged, ‘Untie me.’

I don’t need a gift. I didn’t ask for a gift.’

‘Of course you didn’t ask. That’s why they call it a gift.’ She practically bounced off the floor as another wave of pain hit.

‘I still don’t trust you,’ he said. ‘But I don’t like to see a woman in pain either.’ He heaved a hard-put-upon sigh and leaned forward, pulling her into blissemas-btn1his arms. She yelped as he scrambled to his feet and moved to the leather sofa in front of the fireplace. But instead of laying her down on it, he sat and turned her over his knee. What the hell was he doing? He should untie her, toss her in a taxi and send her on her way.

‘You’re gonna spank me?’ her voice came out high pitched and breathy. ‘I haven’t done anything.’

‘Might do, if you give me any grief,’ he said, realizing too late that draped across his lap as she was, she could definitely feel his erection. Well she was naked, wasn’t she? And he was a healthy male. How the hell was he supposed to respond? Besides, it wasn’t like she hadn’t been expecting to make him hard. ‘So tell me now,’ he said, keeping his voice as neutral as he did in the boardroom in spite of the message his body was giving, ‘where does it hurt?’

Buy Links: 

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Please remember: By commenting on this post you get 1 entry into the Blissemas  grand prize for a Kindle Paperwhite stuffed with smut. For a list of rules and other Blissemas blogs please check http://blissemas.co.uk .

 
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