Tag Archives: Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem Talks about the C Word & the New Harlem Dae Sexy as Hell Trilogy

Lily and Emmy VirginSAH_sidebar_readerquoteCunt, now there is a word that can make people gasp, or smile, or their hackles go up. Even seeing it spelled out can make some people tremble. I use it in my novels sparingly – note the word sparingly – because I like the impact it has. But because of its power, it can also be a word that knocks readers from a moment when you really want them to be immersed in the story – but more about that in a minute.

First of all, a quick sweep around the world wide web about the origins of this complex word.. (not a polemic, just a bit of info!)

It seems that etymologists debate the word cunt but the overall belief is that the word derives from the Proto-Germanic word kunton meaning the female genitals. What is known for sure is that by the 13th century cunt was being widely used. The earliest known citation of the word comes from a street in London known as Gropecunte Lane. This name was common in many towns in Britain as the street where prostitutes conducted their business. The street name described the activity that took place, e.g. grope meaning to touch for sexual pleasure and cunte meaning female genitalia. This street existed under its current name in London up until fairly recently when the residents decided to change its name to something a little more PC – I’m just guessing at this new name LOL!

So originally cunt didn’t have the obscene connotations it has today, it was merely a noun for the ladies private parts. But over the years its meaning evolved, by Shakespeare’s day it seems to have become quite obscene and although the great playwright never actually used the word in any of his completed plays, before him, Chaucer did in Canterbury Tales.

However, moving forward a few centuries, the way in which Anais Nin used cunt in her writing is pertinent, titillating and I think beautiful. Erotica is more likely to use cunt with acceptance & grace unlike the rest of society who’ve pushed cunt to the outer rims of the majorities vocabulary. For a long time cunt was an outcast. Only uncouths and drunks used the word that once all enjoyed so merrily, until fairly recently when, luckily for it – society liked to shock.

Now it is the golden age of cunt, everybody uses it from the humblest beggar to politicians in a way they hope will get a gasping reaction at their daring. There is, however, also a long-standing movement among feminists that seeks to reclaim cunt not only as acceptable, but as an honorific, in much the same way that queer has been reappropriated by LGBT people. I for one, hope they succeed.

But despite its resurgence many are still confused on when and in what company it is okay to say the previously unutterable…

lily and Emmy virgincumminstreetUntil the feminists are victorious in changing the general population’s opinion of the word, utilising cunt in the modern age is a difficult balancing act. If you underutilize or refuse to say it then you are missing out on one of the most powerful words in the English language. If you overutilise cunt then you run the risk that people will think you’re either a misogynist or a feminist, depending on your gender, and cunt will lose all its punch and forcefulness. (information sourced from Live Leaks, sexloveliberation)

So, back to Anais Nin who paved the way for modern day erotica authors and readers. Since I have a new trilogy out this week – Sexy as Hell co-written with Natalie Dae – that uses the word cunt in several different ways I thought I’d share a few examples of how Natalie and I like to work it into stories.

This is the first snippet, and what I should point out is that cunt is in the very first line of the very first book. Why? Because it shocks, it hooks, it shows us a lot about not just the female lead, Zara, but also the reaction of the man she says it to. Here goes…

Excerpt from The Virgin, book #1 in the Sexy as Hell Trilogy

Chapter One

“Lick my cunt,” I said.

I wondered what Victor saw, standing there fully dressed as he was against my bedroom wall. A woman sprawled out on the bed, naked, her fingers spreading her slit apart, or me, Zara Watson, the girl he’d picked up in a coffee shop after work? Or so he’d like to think. I’d picked him up, but I wasn’t about to let him in on how. It had been easy, making him believe he had the gift of the gab, what it took to successfully snare a woman, but in reality I’d orchestrated every move. I doubted his ego could take the truth.

“What?” he asked, dark eyebrows going up, eyes widening.

Lily and Emmy VirgindaisySo he wasn’t as sophisticated as he’d made out. In my experience, they were all the same. Confident and all-knowing until someone like me threw them. Came out with a simple statement that had them reeling. No idea how to claw back their self-assured air without a pause to take in what had been said. The shock of it was usually too much. Hang on, lady, you’re not meant to be saying things like that to me. It should be the other way around. I ought to be shocking you.

“You heard me,” I said, holding back a smirk. “So?”

He remained where he stood, more was the pity, and smiled, a tactic I’d seen so many times before. I‘d bet his mind was swirling, him trying to think what he could say that would get him back on top. I only wished he would get on top, or at least do something that would live up to the promise of his sexy words in the coffee shop. I sighed. All mouth and no trousers, that one. Shame he still had his trousers on. Black ones that matched his shirt. A grey silk tie that could be taken two ways—he was either a stuffy prig or had no choice but to wear it for his profession. And he’d told me all about that. An architect, don’t you know, well paid and with a flashy car that he’d wasted no time in describing to me. As though a hunk of metal was of interest. The only hunk I was interested in was him, and the way things were going, I wouldn’t be getting my mitts on him as quickly as I’d envisaged. Shame, because he was a great-looking guy and I wouldn’t be surprised if his body matched the aesthetic appeal of his face.

“A bit forward, aren’t you?” he said, rubbing the cute, vertical dink he had in his chin.

“Is that a problem?” I leant back, bracing myself on my hands. My breasts didn’t move. Pert things, they’d brought many a man to his knees. A pity this one wasn’t on them between my legs now, supping the cunt I’d so graciously offered.

“Well…” He frowned, seemingly at a loss on what to say.

“Well what?” I smiled inwardly. Talk about getting to him. I could almost see him trying to hold in a squirm.

“You…you didn’t seem this type when we met.” He lifted one hand, running his fingers through his floppy brown hair. Sprinkles of silver weaved through his sideburns and the wispy, longer hairs at his temple.

“And what type is that?” I was enjoying myself.

Lily and Emmy VirginHD_bannerJPG_3

Zara goes on to ask him how a naked lady on a bed, asking him to ‘lick her cunt’ can fail to turn him on. It’s clear from his reaction that it’s that one word that’s thrown him, the straw that broke the camel’s back in this scene, and a great place to start his character development.

This next snippet is from book #3 The Vixen, a shorter excerpt because it’s quite plot heavy and I don’t want to throw spoilers around, but I wanted to use it as an example of cunt being a word filled with hate and the power it can have when used that way. Plus it’s such a short, hard word on the tongue, can be almost spat out, that even when reading and not saying it out loud it still reverberates.

*****

I hadn’t had to put the incredulous in my voice, because I could recall my shock when they’d asked me, or rather Conner had told me what I had to do.

Conner. I’d told myself I’d never say his name, never think it, but things had changed. He was the one who’d liked the games the best, the others had just watched with folded arms and amused sneers on their faces.

Cunts.

*****

This is just a tiny section of Zara’s thoughts in that scene, but I still think the depth of her hate is evident on the page from that final word.

Finally, an example of cunt used in a heated moment which leads to lots of loving and caring and written as a thought while in the heroine, Zara’s, point of view.

This is taken from book #2 The Player.

lily and Emmy VirginSAH_magazine_coverOh, God, he meant it. The fire in his eyes was plain to see. I’d pushed him way too far. What the hell had he and Ollie been talking about?

He shoved me and I fell onto the bed, the backs of my knees against the edge of the mattress. Still standing he straddled them, loomed above me, staring down with such menace in his eyes I knew I really should give him a snippet of the truth before he exploded in spectacular fashion. His cock tented his jeans—oh, yes, it tented them quite nicely—and I clenched my cunt muscles to stave off the stirrings of desire.

“I don’t know the proper rules,” I said. There, there was some truth. “All I know are mine and the games that I play. I don’t know any other way. Satisfied?”

My chest went up and down as I fought to catch my breath. It seemed as though my admission had taken all the air out of me, had left me weak and boneless, vulnerable—something I’d vowed never to be again.

*****

Fairly subtle in that last one, but I like how it is in the protagonist’s thoughts, again it tells us a detail about her, how she thinks, that she’s comfortable with the word if she has it in her head like that, and also that she uses it in different ways herself.

On a different note, KD and I were recently at a reading in Cardiff with fellow erotica and erotic romance authors Lucy Felthouse and Kay Jaybee and we had a question and answer panel at the end of the readings and the open mic. One of the audience asked us about using the ‘c-word’ in our books. I took the route of it having positive female connotations in history as a noun and that I found it particularly useful when writing. I also put forward that if readers are picking up erotica they’re not too likely to be shocked by a single word. This seemed to be a general opinion of the other authors on the panel, and I know full well, because I’ve read and loved all of their work, that they, too, use cunt in a variety of different ways.

Do share your thoughts, I will do my best to check in and say hi! And again, I’ve just skimmed the surface on this subject, it can be debated at length…

Lily x

 Sexy as Hell Trilogy  –

The Virgin, The Player and The Vixen

By Harlem Dae

Sexy as Hell is an erotic trilogy that will submerge you into the black heart of a world of bondage and discipline, Dominance and submission, sadism and masochism.

Dare to take this twisting journey with Victor and you’ll learn the ropes with him, experience every carnal sensation and fall into a dark and dangerous love that grips like a fist and binds like a collar.

Get to know Zara, his sultry teacher, and you’ll gasp when she doles out her sinful instructions but then delight in the stunning results she not only demands but achieves. It seems Heaven and Hell are not so far apart when she holds the reins.

Victor has his layers peeled back, but when he does the same to try to get to his Vixen’s core, a revelation appears. Because Zara is a woman whose vast sexual experience is both her strength and her weakness; she can inflict pain and pleasure, make lusty demands and instruct, but she needs so much more, she needs…

Yes, the time has come to for her to admit to her needs and confess to the repairing her soul hungers for. A sea of memories, a lifetime of control requires an acknowledgement that will cut through her barriers, and there’s only one man up for the job—her virgin, her student, her newly trained monster, Victor Partridge.

Please note, in order to enjoy Victor and Zara’s adventures, the trilogy must be read in order.

lily and emmy virginSAH_image_2

About the Authors

Lily Harlem and Natalie Dae have been writing together for several years on top of their individual author projects. Their joint name is now Harlem Dae. They enjoy being represented by traditional houses including HarperCollins and Total-E- Bound as well self-publishing their sexy stories on Amazon. Both live in the UK and gain great satisfaction from bouncing characters and their raunchy antics back and forth, growing, nurturing and stoking plot lines until they steam off the page and push boundaries. They consider themselves to be solitary, whacky, spontaneous and desirous for many things including perfection and are frequently caught sending messages back and forth referring to each other as Rodney and Delboy.

Buy Links

Amazon US

The Virginhttp://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E251FBW

The Playerhttp://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E251FOO

The Vixenhttp://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E251KU8

Amazon UK

The Virgin – http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Virgin-Trilogy-Erotic-ebook/dp/B00E251FBW/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1374518725&sr=1-1

The Player – http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Player-Trilogy-Erotic-ebook/dp/B00E251FOO/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1374518725&sr=1-2

The Vixen – http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Vixen-Trilogy-Erotic-ebook/dp/B00E251KU8/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1374518774&sr=1-3

Author Links

Harlem Dae website http://www.harlemdae.com

Harlem Dae on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/NatalieDaeandLilyHarlem

Harlem Dae on Amazon US http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=Harlem%20Dae&search-alias=digital-text&sort=relevancerank

Amazon UK  http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=Harlem%20Dae&search-alias=digital-text&sort=relevancerank

 

High-Sticked by Lily Harlem

High-StickedHigh-Sticked is Book #5 in Lily Harlem’s popular HOT ICE series – http://www.lilyharlem.com/hot-ice.html. All of these sexy hockey books can be enjoyed as stand-alone stories though if you read them in the order you’ll meet the hero of each next book as you go along. High-Sticked is the only M/M in the set and follows the story of Rangers player Todd Carty and professional photographer Matthew Foster. It’s hot, it’s spicy and is sure to hit the spot!

 

Blurb

Dating Todd “Pretty” Carty was a trailblazing, headline-grabbing ride that shocked and divided a team, a sport and a nation. While controversy ruled, our feelings exploded and we couldn’t deny the desire that sizzled between us. Nothing, however, was easy outside the bedroom. Not when my world-class, fearless athlete wanted to shout from Everest that he was in love with another man.

But laying my heart on the line and having my picture dominating the papers was worth it. Everything about Todd turned me on. His bold hockey skills, his courageous attitude and the way he melted in my arms when I kissed him. I melted too, because he knew how to press my buttons, remind me of the man I used to be and take me to those places where ecstasy ruled.

The world might have trouble accepting us, but we’d committed to each other, mind, body and soul, and nothing could change that.

Buy Links

Ellora’s Cave

Amazon UK

Amazon US

 

Excerpt

He looked so damn sexy standing next to the bed. Tall and broad but with a certain vulnerability about him that made me want to get all alpha and protect him. Though I knew that with those fine muscles of his and that sharp speed he needed no physical protection. But I couldn’t help myself. I just wanted to make things right for him—more than right, perfect.

I stepped up to him, my cock already swollen well past a semi. “Lift,” I said, gripping the base of his jersey.

He raised his arms and allowed me to peel it over his head. I dropped it to the floor where it landed silently.

His chest was beautiful. I’d seen it many times on the shoots, but now I didn’t need to disguise the lust or admiration in my eyes. Now I could feast on the sight of his dark little nipples that were small and permanently erect. Stroking my hand over his sternum, I circled each one in turn. Felt him tremble beneath my touch and heard his sigh when I brushed over the slightly pliant stalks.

“You’re bloody gorgeous,” I breathed.

He didn’t answer. I guess he’d heard it enough times before.

My cock was full-on hard now. But I was under control. I had to be, for both our sakes.

Todd wore jeans and a brown leather belt with a silver buckle. Luckily my hands were steadier than the tripping of my heart as I released the clasp and popped open the buttons on his pants.

He was hard too. I could see his cock straining forward. The outline of it was visible beneath the material and the swollen head butted the tip of the waistband.

My mouth watered and my hands tingled at the thought of holding, tasting, worshipping his cock for the first time.

But that wasn’t what I had planned. Not yet, anyway.

After loosening his pants, I pushed them down his legs. It took all my willpower to leave his white briefs in place and not expose his cock, but I did it. I couldn’t trust myself. If I saw him all hot and hard then I would devour him. In one go.

He stepped out of the jeans and slipped off his socks.

I tugged back the thick navy duvet. “Get in bed,” I said, my voice husky even to my own ears.

Without a word, he slid in and lay on his back, his arms bent behind his head, his cock tenting his briefs.

He watched me as I began to strip. When I wore only my boxers, I scooted in next to him.

A small shiver moved over his body.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“Cold?”

“A little.”

I pulled the duvet so it covered both our shoulders then pressed the length of my body to the side of his. He wasn’t cold, he felt warm and solid and his leg hairs meshed with mine. “Turn this way,” I whispered. “Face me.”

He did as instructed, sliding one hand over my waist and tucking the other beneath his cheek. We were nose-to-nose.

“Remember when we first kissed on the sofa?” I asked against his lips.

“You know damn well I do.”

“Well, that’s what we’re going to do again. Only this time there’ll be no ordering me to leave.”

“If you left I’d die.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, you’re a sportsman not an actor.”

He laughed and as he opened his mouth I kissed him. Probed my tongue in and tangled it with his.

Instantly he kissed me back, a small moan filtering up from his throat and swirling out from between our lips. I ran my hand down his arm, onto his waist and stopped on his brief-covered hip. “Like this,” I murmured, “but closer.”

I tugged him toward me and he helped the movement by shuffling.

Our cocks came into alignment, only the barrier of our underwear separating them. “Matthew,” he gasped, gripping my hip the way I was his. “Fuck, you’re so hard.”

“Hard for you.” Damn, he felt good. His cock was as long as I’d suspected it would be from our brief introduction through jeans. It felt thick and wide too, a steel bar of burning rigidity.

“Feeling you against me makes my nuts so tight,” he groaned, shifting his hips so his shaft rubbed up mine on a long, concrete stroke.

I sucked in a breath of warm air. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” My balls were getting the familiar achy pressure that meant they’d be building to an explosion soon. “Lose these,” I said, plucking at the elastic waistband of his briefs.

He didn’t need asking twice.

As he pushed his down, I shoved at mine. My cock sprang free and a modicum of pressure lifted from the turgid shaft.

He gripped my hip again, tight.

I groaned and allowed the wondrous fist of desire to claim me, clamped my hand on his ass and squeezed our cocks firmly against each other.

“Matthew,” he gasped.

“That’s it. Fuck, it’s good.”

“Yes, oh god, yes. More. I want us to come together.”

“We will.” I began to shift my hips, a rhythmic grind that rubbed our cocks together, up and down. The shafts generated a scalding friction that heated with each and every movement.

He copied me, met me roll for roll, thrust for thrust. His fingers were pincerlike on my butt and his mouth covered mine.

We kissed, rubbed, slid into each other until our breaths were erratic and my heart pounded. My brain was sparking, firing from a hundred points all focused on Todd.

I wanted to reach down, fist our cocks in a clamping grip, but I didn’t. When I touched Todd’s cock for the first time I wanted to be calm and savor every moment. Right now I was on the brink of climax.

“Ah, I’m coming,” I gasped into his mouth.

“Yes, come, fuck, come now.”

Blistering pressure raced up the center of my cock, the intensity almost dragging my balls with it. I couldn’t breathe, my stomach pinched into a tight knot and suddenly it was there. A beautiful moment of fulfillment. Warm heat burst from me, another shot followed, fizzing and popping onto my stomach in a gooey slap.

A sharp cry escaped Todd and I let the sound swirl within me. He too was coming. The sound of his orgasm was gloriously uninhibited, unlike earlier when he’d tried to suppress it.

I tightened my fingers on his butt, holding him as he shook and shuddered and moaned through his release. More cum landed between us, sticky and hot, basting our abdomens.

He ran his hand to the back of my neck, supporting my nape as his tongue delved into my mouth. His breaths were erratic and noisy against my cheek. The smell of sex and cum and fresh sweat circulated upward, the stuffy air of the duvet intensifying the scent.

Suddenly hot, I flicked the covers off. A cool waft of air caressed my sticky body and I sucked in much-needed oxygen.

“That was fucking amazing,” Todd gasped.

“That was just foreplay.”

“Fuck!” He grinned and a wild, happy flash seared across his eyes.

I laughed and flopped onto my back, staring at the shadow-strung ceiling. “Yeah, fuck! Foreplay to fucking.”

hot ice

Lily Harlem Bio

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including Ellora’s Cave, HarperCollins, Total-E-Bound, Xcite and Sweetmeat Press. Her HOT ICE series regularly receives high praise and industry nominations.

Before turning her hand to writing Lily Harlem worked as a trauma nurse and her latest HarperCollins release, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, draws on her many experiences while nursing in London. Lily also self-publishes and The Glass Knot and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release in 2012.

Her latest m/f novel, Breathe You In, is a super-sexy romance with a twist that will not only heat you up but stay with you for years to come.

One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!

Lily Harlem Links

Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/

Blog http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.com/

Twitter https://twitter.com/lily_harlem

Facebook http://en-gb.facebook.com/people/Lily-Harlem/100003519563064

Facebook author page http://www.facebook.com/pages/Lily-Harlem-author-page/200182030094568

Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4070110.Lily_Harlem

Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/106837751333678531161/posts

Breathe You In by Lily Harlem

Breathe You InBlurb

Soul-aching desire was just the beginning!

If the road to Heaven starts in Hell then I was ready to start climbing my way out and Ruben Strong was the man to accompany me. With his devastating good looks, seductively sexy charm and lust for adrenaline he was sure to make it a sensual and erotic experience as well as one to re-awake the passionate, throw-caution-to-the-wind woman I’d once been.

I’d given Ruben something, though, without him realizing, and that gift had come from the man I’d loved before. But I couldn’t tell Ruben. I had to keep that a tight secret even as our naked bodies wound together, sought out pleasure and hit the dizzy heights of ecstasy as one. Because Ruben had my husband’s heart, literally, and that heart was still in love with me, so it seemed, and now I was in love with Ruben.

Emotions tangled with bliss, and fears were locked away as I surrendered to the touch of Ruben’s hands, the taste of his skin and the sounds of his pleasure. I couldn’t deny that Ruben had brought me back to life the same way I had him and there was no way I was giving up that feeling, not for anyone.

Reader advisory – Breathe You In is a romance with themes of love, loss and hope and contains several explicit sex scenes.

 

Excerpt

My new flat felt alive, as if it were a real home. The sweet, grassy breeze ambled from the living room to the kitchen. The pan on the stove was bubbling away, creating steam that clung to the window. The tangy smell of the onions I’d fried filled my nose, and I could hear the TV, only the news, someone talking, but knowing Ruben was in the living room, that it wouldn’t be empty and soulless when I moved from one room to the other, created a feeling of hope in me—one that made me warm and content for the first time in a long time.

I also felt I knew Ruben better for having seen a glimpse into his old life. Understood how much he’d had to change because of his illness. Maybe he was right. Perhaps he would go back to his old job one day. Return to a wild, hedonistic, fast life of racing and globe trotting and leggy women with perfect bodies. I couldn’t show him my old life, or ever go back to it, but it had been nice to see his.

I flicked the pasta off the boil and stood in the kitchen doorway, one hand on the frame, pushing my hair from my face with the other.

Ruben looked up. Stared at me. He pulled in a deep breath and frowned.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yes, I…”

I didn’t move. “What?”

“It’s just…”

“Tell me?”

He smiled. “You’ll think I’m being stupid.”

“No I won’t.”

“I had a dream last night, it just came back to me, really vivid.”

“What was it about?” I straightened.

“You.”

“Me?” I couldn’t deny the little thrill that word gave me, to think I’d been in this handsome man’s dream.

“You were stood, just like that, in a doorway, holding the side, fiddling with your hair.”

“Whose doorway?”

He silenced the TV. Put the remote on the tall table by the sofa. “Mine. My bedroom.”

“I see.”

He trailed his gaze down my body. Licked his lips.

“And what was I wearing?” I asked. Part of me was desperate to know, the other part afraid to ask. This was a new way for me to be with anyone other than Matt.

“White,” he said. “You were in white.”

“A dress?”

He smiled, shook his head. “Oh, no, white stockings with lace around your thighs. White teeny, tiny knickers and a corset?style top, you know that…” He put his cupped hands on his chest and smiled. “That made you look really pretty here.”

“Sounds like a very detailed dream.”

“It was. It was hot.” He nodded, bit on his bottom lip. “You were hot.”

A tremble started in my stomach and moved lower. Ruben thought I was hot. Hot enough to dream in detail about me. That in itself was like being kissed passionately. It turned my attraction for him to top level; it made me feel like the woman I had been once.

I even remembered a white outfit like that. It was something I’d taken on honeymoon to surprise Matt with one night. I could almost see his face again. His eyes instantly heavy with lust, his lips moist where he’d licked them the moment I’d appeared in the doorway.

Ruben was wearing the same look now, and he shifted on the sofa the same way Matt had shifted on the bed.

Taking a deep breath, I walked toward Ruben, wishing I had that outfit on, and straddled his lap. I dug my knees into the cushions and I rested my hands on his shoulders, let my bum settle on his thighs.

“Tell me more?” I said in what I hoped was a suitably sexy voice.

Ruben swallowed, frowned a little and looked into my eyes. “We were alone, there was only us there. It was warm, you smelled of fruit—papaya, melon, all things sweet.”

I smiled. “This is a very specific dream.”

He touched my cheek with the back of his index finger. “I know, and it’s all flooding back to me like it was a real memory.”

“Maybe we should make it real, one day.”

“I’d like that.” He leaned forward and touched his lips to mine. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?” he said with a smile.

“I’m not gorgeous, not really.”

He jerked his head. “Why would you say that?”

“Well, the women you must have had, you know, when you and Dean Cudditch were out together, swanning around glamorous places.”

“That was just fun. Messing about, there was never anyone serious. I was too busy traveling the world, being part of the winning team.”

“But weren’t they…?”

“They weren’t you. Katie. Matt must have told you all the time how beautiful you are. I get the impression from you that he was a great bloke, a wonderful husband who made you feel special and treasured.”

I nodded. “He was, he did, but…” I glanced downward, kept that delicate balance of mine on the straight and narrow. “But now, well, I’m a bit thinner than I was and smiles don’t come so easy.”

“I’ve seen you smile plenty since I met you, and each one has gone into my happy memory bank.”

His words made me smile again.

“See, beautiful,” he said.

“Thank you. It’s nice to hear someone say that.”

“It’s nice to have a sexy woman sitting on my lap.” He kissed me, softly, and stroked his fingers through my hair.

I broke the kiss and touched his hair too. I loved the longish strands and the way they flowed through my fingers like fluid silk.

He slid his hands down the column of my neck and reached for the first button on my work blouse. As he undid it, his smile slipped, and his eyebrows hung heavy in concentration.

My heart tripped. My nipples tightened. The dark look in his eyes was so sexy it went straight to my head, like a shot of alcohol.

He undid the next button, and the next, his jaw seeming to get tenser with each twist of his fingers.

I sat absolutely still, the tops of his thighs pressing into the backs of mine. Watching his face, each blink, each slight twitch of his cheek and the way he dampened his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. It was all making me want to grab him for a kiss but equally kept me frozen, fascinated.

When all the buttons were undone, he looked up at my face. It was a silent question.

I glanced out of the window—nothing but treetops.

I nodded.

Carefully, he slid the blouse off my shoulders, revealing my white lacy bra. It had a small daisy in the center of the cups and one at the base of each strap.

“That’s so much better than my dream,” he whispered, his breath like a caress on my chest. “And you are perfect.”

Words danced on my tongue. Words that wanted to explain that I used to be a cup size bigger and filled out my bra better. That maybe I would again one day. But I held them in, swallowed them down. They had no place in this moment with Ruben. Besides, he looked happy with what he saw.

I reached behind myself, unclipped the hook of my bra, let it fall open, but then held it in place with one arm across my chest.

“Katie, if you want to wait…?”

“No, this is fine. More than fine, I want this.” I let the straps slide off my arms and tossed the bra to the floor. “It feels right with you.”

And it did. I’d worried that I’d feel like an adulterous woman being with another man. But with Ruben, well, it was different. Matt was part of it. Part of Ruben. Part of us.

Ruben collected the slight weight of the undersides of my breasts in his hands. Watching his own movements, he parted his lips and his features softened.

His touch was electric and sent a plethora of forgotten sensations blasting through my chest, spiking my nipples and making my flesh feel heavy and engorged.

I pressed into him, just a little, needing more but not wanting to appear greedy. Fearing if I did that, I’d push myself into a wall and cause the bubble to shatter.

He rubbed his thumbs over my nipples. They were tiny stalks, erect and tight. I stuttered in a breath, the stimulation arousing and wonderful.

He glanced up at me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Yes, I like you touching me.”

“I like touching you.” The left side of his mouth rose into a languid half grin.

He moved his right hand to the center of my back. Held me firm as he leaned forward and took my left nipple into his mouth.

I gasped and ran my hands into his hair, held him close and arched my spine. Damn, it had been so long since I’d enjoyed this feeling. It was heavenly. Releasing a breath, I watched as the huff of air from my lungs shifted the hair on the top of his head. He moved to the other breast, feeding my nipple into his mouth and tweaking it with his tongue. He massaged and gently squeezed the now damp breast he’d just given attention to.

A type of fever was growing in me. But it was fever of the good kind. Between my legs felt heavy, needy. I had the urge to move just a fraction farther forward in Ruben’s lap and see if the erection I suspected was there was as hard as it had been yesterday.

I stayed still.

Ruben kissed up my sternum, my neck, and found my mouth. He was still fondling my right breast as he kissed me, wetly, hungrily and with a little less control than yesterday.

Running my hand down his chest and over his belly, I found his groin. The folds of denim could do nothing to hide the swell of his hard cock. I itched to hold it, release it. Learn the shape and weight of him the way he’d just done to me. I popped the top button, but as I did so, he grabbed my wrist, pulled back from our kiss.

“Katie,” he said slightly breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” I stilled.

He looked away.

“We can be ourselves together,” I said gently. “Tell me.”

“I like that.” He gently pinched my chin with his fingers and thumb.

“What?”

“That there is a ‘we’. Us together.”

“Me too.” I grazed my lips over his. “So tell me.”

He nodded and released my wrist. “It’s just, well, I want you to do whatever it is you want to do, but…”?He shut his eyes, as though frustrated with himself.

“But what?”

“But, well, I won’t deny it, I’m a bit anxious, you know, about doing this, with this.” He placed his hand on his chest.

“With your new heart?”

He nodded.

I took hold of the bottom of his t-shirt and peeled it up and over his head, threw it down by my bra. “This heart,” I said, placing a kiss over his scar, “is a good, strong heart that can handle me just fine.”

“I’m sure it will be okay it’s just…”

“You want to take it slow?” I shrugged. “I want to take it slow too. We don’t have to go all the way, not if it’s too soon. We can have some other fun.”

“God, you must think I’m a wimp.” A flash of wounded pride crossed his face.

“There’s nothing wimpy about that package you’ve got in your pants, mister. It’s feeling like a whole lot of hot, hard man to me.”

He laughed. “You always say the right thing, you know that?”

I smiled and pressed my palm over his cock, squeezed through the denim.

His face fell serious. “That feels good. Your hand on me.”

“I can make it feel even better, if you want me to.”

He paused, then nodded. “Yes. That’s what I want.”

I wriggled and slipped between his legs, so mine were folded on the floor and my shoulders were between his thighs. I began to undo the buttons on his jeans.

Lily Harlem Bio

Lily Harlem is a multi-published, award-winning author of contemporary erotic romance. She lives in the UK with her husband and a bunch of animals, all rescued, and loves to spend her days immersed in imagination.

Her books are a mixture of full-length novels and short stories, some are one offs, some are sequels or part of a series (all can be enjoyed as stand-alone reads). What they each have in common are colorful characters travelling on everyone’s favorite journey — falling in love. If the story isn’t deliciously romantic and down and dirty sexy, it won’t be written, at least not by Lily. So with the bedroom door left well and truly open you are warned to hang on for a steamy, sensual ride – or rides as the case might be!

Links

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Lily Harlem Links

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Double Whammy Launch Party and Kinky World Book Night: So much Smut, So Little Time!

It’s been a wild and exciting week, and I’ve struggled to figure how to share the most with all of you without repeating what’s already been said and without making extra work for myself. Not that I’m lazy, and not that I don’t love chatting with you lot, but I’m hard at it writing The Exhibition, Book three of Grace Marshall’s Executive Decision trilogy, and I’m so excited about how it’s coming along that I’m anxious to keep working.

But at the same time, I definitely wanted to share the adventures of the last week, starting last Saturday with the Double Whammy Launch Party at Sh! Women’s Store and continuing on through Tuesday night with the Kinky Workd Book Night hosted by Xcite and arranged and put together by Xcite’s fabulous new PR staff members, Lauren Thomas, Claire Travers, and the mysterious Greg.

There were hot, sexy readings, there were giveaways, there was burlesque, there was an open mic, there were Q&As and there was loads of fun. I decided the very best way to share that fun was to give you a few smuttymini excerpts from the events along with an excerpt from Moorita Encantada’s fabulous performance from the play we’re collaborating on, The Eye of the Beholder. So enjoy the piccies and the naughty excerptlets.

Double Whammy Book Launch Party

At the Double Whammy Book Launch Party there was so much going on it was hard to know where to look. And it all began with one of my favourite Sh! Ladiez, Jo Wierzbicka, reminding all of us naughty folks that only one person is allowed into the bathroom at a time. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*

Though Kay Jaybee read from her fabulously naughty book, The Perfect Submissive, she also gave us a sneak preview of her sequel, book two in the trilogy, The Retreat.

Kay Jaybee’s reading from The Perfect Submissive.

‘It’s fascinating, isn’t it?’ Mrs Peters seemed to be reading her mind.

Jess felt goose pimples sprinkle her flesh as her employer continued to speak in whispers, her warm breath tickling Jess’s ear, ‘He’s a strong young man. He is good looking. He could dominate any girl he chose, and yet here he is, getting his rocks off by crouching in obedience before a powerful woman.’

*****

Hastened into position by his mistress, Paul’s shirt was torn from his back, his smooth torso bent over the desk’s leather inlay, and his outstretched muscular arms grasped each side of the desktop. Jess gasped at the sight of his arse. It was truly gorgeous. She was so close to him, only two metres away. She could smell his desire and almost taste the frisson of fear that ran down his spine; prone and vulnerable, as he anticipated the first strike. The Perfect Submissive

Most of you already know that I’ve been scheming and plotting with the multi-talented Moorita Encantada to write and put together a burlesque play. Saturday night was the first ever sneak peek at The Eye of the Beholder, the story of Medusa and Perseus with a twist, and a  stunning performance by Moorita in the staring role as Medusa.

Moorita Encantada performing as Medusa from our play, The Eye of the Beholder

Arrogance can be sexy. Not his though, his was simply stupid. No woman is going to defeat him, he said. He was a warrior, he said, strong and quick on his feet. He’d finish me off and be home in time for dinner with my head as a trophy.

Humility is such a hard lesson to learn. A very hard lesson.

This one, yuk, this one should have never come..! What was it that inspired such a coward to face my wrath? A bet? A few too many pints down the pub? Honestly, trembling before a woman is only arousing if it’s because her beauty takes a man’s breath away, if it’s because he loves her and adores her and wants her more than life itself. Not because he’s so afraid he’s about to piss himself. He should have stayed in his room playing World of War Craft.

This one was just mean, lacking in human kindness, no goodness in his heart. He didn’t just want my head for a trophy, he wanted to hurt me, he wanted to make me suffer, wanted to make my Graea suffer, though we’d done nothing to him. Oh believe me, he’s better this way. Now there’s nothing at all in his heart, and no more harm to be done.

Medusa’s monologue from The Eye of the Beholder

We’ll be sharing more news about The Eye of the Beholder as it unfolds, and there are lots of exciting things on the horizon. Moorita will be performing more of The Eye of the Beholder at Smut By The Sea in Scarborough on the 22nd of June, and we hope to see you there.

Because I had two new releases very close together, I read from both of my latest, Grace Marshall’s Identity Crisis, and book three of K D Grace’s Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Elemental Fire. I could hardly remember from one minute to the next just exactly who I was.

My reading from Elemental Fire

She took him into her arms and kissed him hard, and when he feared he would disgrace himself again with his cock pressed up tight against the top of her belly, she pulled away. ‘However,’ she said. ‘If I grant your request, then I will possess you. All of you. You will belong to me, your life will mine.’ She gaze was painfully bright. ‘And if you earnestly wish to be rid of Deacon, then you will do as I say for as long as it takes us to accomplish our task, and it will take time. I know him. You don’t. I’m his equal. You’re not. And one more very important thing, Kennet Birch.’ She stroked his hair gently and whispered against his lips. ‘Never, never forget how badly I can hurt you if you defy me.’ Then she guided his hand down over her pubic curls. ‘If my terms are not acceptable to you, then you must return to your body and face your fate.’ Elemental Fire

Kinky World Book Night

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We barely had time to recover from the weekend before we were off to Cardiff for the exciting Kinky World Book Night, an event we’d all been excitedly waiting for. Lauren, Claire and Greg were fabulous hosts for the event, held at the Fire Island Bar, and we were especially lucky to be joined by smutty author extraordinaire,  Lily Harlem, who didn’t read, but cheered us on, and of course the unstopable Lucy Felthouse. After a really insightful and fun Q&A, there was an open mic with some fabulous new unpublished (thought I have no doubt that will be changing soon) talent, in addition to the delicious and talented Black Silk. I think it’s safe to say a naughty time was had by all.

Kay Jaybee’s reading at Kinky World Book Night from The Voyeur

Taking a step forward, Mark pulled hard on the lead so that Anya’s neck jerked toward his legs. ‘My bitch here is guilty of questioning my requests.’ P1000687Abruptly the room fell completely silent, and everyone turned to see what was happening as Mark’s voice boomed out. Keeping her voice lowered, Anya stared at the dusty floor.

Opening the lid of his box, Mark pulled out a large piece of folded white card. As he unfolded it, he dragged Anya to one of the unoccupied rings on the wall before securing the lead to it, ensuring she couldn’t stray. Then he stuck the rectangle of card upon the wall next to her tethered body.

In bold black type it said, “Do what you want to me, but I must not be satisfied. I have been very bad and I do not deserve it.”  The Voyeur

P1000704Lucy Felthouse’s reading from Off the Shelf

Dropping onto her back, Annalise lifted her bottom, hooked her thumbs into the sides of her thong and shimmied out of it. She flicked one foot and sent it sailing across the room, then sat up, unhooked her bra and sent it in the same direction. She was just about to grab the top of one of her hold-up stockings to roll it off when Damian got back onto the bed and crawled over to her.

‘Don’t,’ he said quietly, pushing her onto her back once more. ‘leave them on.’

‘Ooh,’ she replied, shuffling backwards up the bed so her head was on the pillow, ‘like them, do we?’ Off the Shelf

Kd and Lauren- Cardiff 2013Grace Marshall’s reading from Identity Crisis

She turned on him. ‘Oh pa-lease. You deserved it. You’ve deserved everything you got so far, and last night, well if you’d have just let me handle it, then this,’ she stabbed a finger at the door, ‘this wouldn’t be happening.’ She jerked off the robe and stood naked in front of him tugging her panties up over her hips and then shoving into the green dress. And fuck it was hard to stay focused with her doing that. Did she do that on purpose – get his cock’s full attention so his brain wouldn’t work? She probably did. She was a bitch, he reminded himself. How the hell could he forget the number one fact about Kendra Davis? The woman was a bitch. Interact with her at your own risk. He watched her stuff her stockings and garter belt into her bag like they were the enemy, and he was sympathetic.

‘Where’s the back door,’ she said.

‘Through the kitchen,’ he replied, his brain still half-occupied by her angry reverse strip-tease that had left him in a bad way. ‘Wait a minute. Where Breakfast at the Harley!are you going? What are you doing?’ He followed her into the kitchen with her stumbling into her killer heels as she went.

‘Fixing it,’ she huffed.     Identity Crisis

We all came home exhausted, but happy. What a fabulous experience and another happy reminder of some of the really cool perks of writing erotica, including lunch with our fearless leader, Hazel Cushion, dinner at Pika Pika with Lauren, Claire and Greg, and breakfast with Kay Jaybee, where else but the Harley Coffee Shop! How could such a week not inspire me to write more naughty, sexy, romantic stuff, and that’s how I hope to be spending the next few weeks, hard at work on The Exhibition.

 

 

Lily Harlem Cofesses All About Her Naughty Night Nurse

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I’m very pleased to welcome my launch mate, Lily Harlem, to A Hopeful Romantic today. We had the pleasure of launching our petite novels for Mischief Books on the same day. Naughty Night Nurse and Kinky Boots are mates in naughtiness, so to speak, and I’m very happy to be in such exquisite company. Welcome Lily, do tell!

Thank you so much for inviting me and my naughty nurse over to play today, KD, so very kind of you, though be warned, she’s a bit of a handful as you can tell by that jaunty jut of her hip and the way her uniform is just a little bit too tight!

I’ve always had a nurse story bubbling away at the back of my mind. I trained as a nurse when I was 18 and then worked in London for many years. The hours were long and hard, the work certainly stressful, but it was also incredibly rewarding. Helping patients was part of the job and I thrived on the adrenaline-inducing department I specialized in – Accident and Emergency. This was my home, be it during the day or on the night shift. One of the things I adored most was the sense of teamwork between doctors, nurses, the porters, lab staff, radiographers and domestic workers (cleaners and kitchen staff). If everyone didn’t get on, communicate, work hard, then the place just couldn’t run. It was very rare to find a lazy staff member; that type of personality just didn’t survive! It was a case of working hard, then a bit harder, then if you had time, go play too. Mmm, yep, we played pretty hard if I remember correctly!

The hospital social club was an ancient building, tin roof and drink so cheap I was sure it was subsidized by someone – don’t know who. It was generally full, mostly people in a uniform of some description, or if not in uniform they still had tired faces and were most likely just out of scrubs after being in theatre all day. Mr Harlem and I had many a date at the ‘social’, in fact, I think we probably had our first date there!

During my nursing years I made many friends, most of them are memories now but a few have stood the test of time and without them still in my life there would be a great big hole. It does that to you, working in such an intense environment, you see people for who they are, beneath the layers. Those girlfriends have made up for me not having a sister and we’ve continued to rise and fall together on the crazy crests of life.  I adore them.

I’ve certainly called on hospital experiences and drawn on remembered characters during my last five years of full time writing, but none so much as Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse.

Now don’t think this book is a memoir, it isn’t (OMG, if it was…!) but certainly the main character reminds me of someone I used to know, as do the two main doctors, Javier and Carl, though, of course, their personalities have been embellished considerably.  Some situations in the book are also reflections, and the descriptions of the hospital wards, corridors and Rose Cottage – that the fluffy name given to the morgue – are all exactly how I remember them.

Lily Harlem self publilybanner

I’ve just had a review for Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, and much to my delight it is written by a nurse…

It (Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse) centers around Sharon, a night shift nurse in a hospital somewhere in England. If she lived in the U.S., she’d be called a float pool nurse because she can work almost anywhere in the hospital. You follow her sexscapades over the course of a few days/weeks and see how much trouble she gets into as well as how many people get between her legs. She’s naughty, remember?

This book had the potential for utter ridiculousness. As a nurse, I take my profession pretty seriously and I didn’t know if this book would make nurses look like trollops. It didn’t though. It felt real! The author’s grasp of medical lingo as well as the possible happenings in a hospital all felt right. I swear she mentioned Maslow and I guffawed. It appealed to the nurse and the instructor in me. The sex was good, but not overdone and I enjoyed the characters.

And my gosh, the book actually had a plot and a decent one at that. Plus, I was rooting for her to end up with the sexy doctor. Well done, Lily Harlem. You definitely won me over.

lily harlem night nursemaslowI don’t mind saying that I was pretty damn nervous when the reviewer reached the point were she said the words ‘utter ridiculousness’ and then stated that she was a nurse, but phew, thank goodness she went on to say it ‘felt’ real. That is exactly what I was trying to achieve, an amalgamation of two big parts of my life, my erotic romance writing and my nursing days – this lovely reviewer made me happy dance. Oh, and if you’re wondering what Maslow is, it’s a psychology model used for assessing needs, starting from the very basic, moving up through the need to achieve, be encouraged etc and finally reaching self-actualisation.

I hope if you do read Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, you enjoy Sharon’s naughty escapades. Here is the blurb and a sneaky excerpt taken from the beginning of the book.

Blurb:

When scalpels are set down, the ward lights turned off and the patients asleep, there is always time for mischief …

I guess you could call me a jack-of-all-trades nurse. I find work satisfaction in whichever department the hospital needs me most, as long as it’s through the darkest hours. Needless to say I’ve seen it all over the years, been there and done that, what’s left to shock me isn’t worth knowing. But it’s so often the quieter nighttime where the real high jinx abound.

Yes, the nocturnal life is the one for me. With a weakness for sexy guys wearing white coats and dangling stethoscopes, my fantasies are often realised and I’m adept at finding relief from the hospital grind in shadowy corners and cozy linen cupboards.

Of course my dedication to patient comfort is paramount. What kind of nurse would I be if it wasn’t? But when one act of extreme, albeit highly inappropriate, kindness forced me to become the hospital director’s snitch, the length I went to in order to keep my job, satisfied my desires and found me the love that had always evaded me. A love that made me push even my not-so-professional boundaries to the extreme.

Buy Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse Here:

Amazon US $1.60  – http://www.amazon.com/Confessions-Naughty-Night-Nurse-ebook/dp/B00ALKUMDO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358408815&sr=1-1&keywords=confessions+of+a+naughty+night+nurse

Amazon UK  99p – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Confessions-Naughty-Night-Nurse-ebook/dp/B00ALKUMDO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1358409386&sr=1-1

Kobo – http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Confessions-of-Naughty-Night-Nurse/book-cCHlzlkIyU23I5Gh_oCMFA/page1.html?s=cyqUFVT0e0O2NUFOibKLaQ&r=1

Barnes and Noble – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/confessions-of-a-naughty-night-nurse-lily-harlem/1113965701?ean=9780007513024

More buy links available on the Mischief website http://www.mischiefbooks.com/books/confessions-naughty-night-nurse/  – and Lily Harlem’s website – http://www.lilyharlem.com

Lily Harlem Confessions of a naughty night nurseimage001(1)Excerpt:

I checked my iPhone again. Another message from Tom.

 You coming?

I typed back quickly.

 Yes, so will you soon!

The porter appeared. He was new, a young guy, wide and stocky with hair so short you could see his scalp through it. He had the word love tattooed over the knuckles on his right hand.

‘You got one for Rose Cottage,’ he grunted, tugging the closed, coffin-style trolley along behind him.

‘Yes, sideward six.’

Luckily Mr Parslow’s skinny body was light, and within a few minutes we were heading out of the ward with him safely ensconced in the metal trolley.

‘Hey, Sharon,’ Tinkard called. ‘You may as well go for your break after you’ve done that, it’s just gone midnight.’

‘Right you are.’

The ward door shut with a heavy click and I put some muscle into pushing the trolley along the deserted corridor. As the pace picked up I stared at the lumpy back of the porter’s head and wondered if he was the one who’d found Javier and Iceberg.

If only I could see into his mind.

I pondered on whether I should question him. Just come straight out and ask if he’d seen the hottest medical senior house officer since Pompeii’s hospital had got showered in ash, shagging the Wicked Witch of the West where the sun doesn’t shine.

I thought better of it. My asking alone could become gossip, and I was keen to avoid gossip that included myself. There were too many skeletons in my cupboard, and, for that matter, in clinical rooms, sluices, linen rooms, and in that handy, unused office at the back of the pharmacy. No, I would keep quiet and do my own investigating.

Stepping out into the night, I was whipped in the face by my hair, the band holding it in a low ponytail no match for the ferocity of the gale. I hunched my shoulders and stooped, trying to shelter my face from the needle-points of rain blasting my cheeks. The sound of the torrent of drips hitting the metal trolley was almost as loud as the wind creaking at the row of oaks leading to Rose Cottage. Their boughs strained and moaned, their leaves hissing in great waves of noise.

The porter sped up behind the back of the canteen and put considerable energy into pulling. By the time we went past the incinerator and turned the final corner, I found myself jogging along the uneven path.

Luckily Tom was waiting with the door to Rose Cottage held open.

We rushed in, the trolley banging over the door-bar and a scurry of leaves whirling around our feet.

‘Fucking hell,’ the porter said. ‘It’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey out there.’

Tom shut the door, winked at me, then took hold of my end of the trolley and wheeled it into the bay of body drawers. I trailed along behind, tucking my wind-wild hair back into its ponytail.

‘Yeah, good job the VIPs in here don’t care about shitty weather,’ Tom said, stopping at twenty-six C and then opening the trolley’s lid to reveal Mr Parslow’s covered body.

‘Bloody hate this part of the job, me,’ the porter said, staring at the shroud-covered lump and shuddering. ‘Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.’

‘You go if you want,’ I said, ‘I’ll help here.’

He widened his eyes and took a step backwards. ‘Really?’

‘Sure, I’ve done it a million times. Doesn’t bother me.’

‘Bloody hell, thanks . . .’ He nibbled on his bottom lip and scanned my coat, as though searching for my name badge.

‘Sharon,’ I said. ‘Go, we’ve got this covered and I bet you’ve lots to do.’

‘Yeah, I have actually.’ He yanked his sleeves over his hands and strode back to the door.

Tom followed and I heard him lock it shut, as was standard procedure at Rose Cottage. The NHS couldn’t risk body snatching, that’s why Tom was employed as night security here.

‘Poor sod,’ Tom said, wandering back in. ‘Looked white as a sheet, didn’t he?’

‘They all do to start with.’

Tom pulled open the drawer and together we slid Mr Parslow onto the metal; his body, although light, was a dense weight. Tom then pushed the drawer shut and closed the door with a resounding slam.

He wrote Mr Parslow’s name on a piece of card and slipped it into a slot beneath.

‘So how long have you got?’ he asked, a naughty smile tugging his lips and his smoky-blue eyes twinkling.

I raised my eyebrows. ‘No time at all. Change of plan, I have to get straight back, sorry.’

‘Ah, Sharon,’ he said, frowning. ‘Why do you go and tease me like that? You know how much I look forward to your visits. They’re the only thing that keeps me going in this lifeless place.’

‘Sorry.’ I glanced down his body. Through his uniform – dark-navy trousers and shirt – Tom’s well-defined muscles could be made out, as could a fantastically long wedge of flesh behind his fly.

My pussy clenched as I remembered last week when I’d paid him a visit. He’d bent me over the desk and rammed himself into me for nearly an hour. It had been so damn hard to walk back onto the orthopaedic ward I’d actually considered nicking a pair of crutches.

I hitched in a breath, knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep up my pretence for more than another few seconds. Tom’s big dick and his skilful use of it was too damn irresistible. ‘The ward is crazy busy.’

He reached for me but I stepped away. ‘Just a kiss and a quick grope then, to keep me going.’

Quickly I moved even further away, towards the autopsy room. ‘Ha, ha,’ I said gleefully. ‘Just kidding, I’m on my break now.’

He flattened his lips into a tight line, as if holding back a broad smile, though at the same time narrowing his eyes as though furious with me. ‘You little minx,’ he said. ‘You’ll pay for that.’

‘Only if you can catch me.’ I darted into the autopsy room, dark except for a couple of low lights over a set of huge scales. The air was cool and laced with disinfectant.

I glanced around. There was a big, steel surgical table in the centre, a row of cupboards, several filing cabinets and a desk holding an ancient computer monitor.

‘Sharon,’ Tom called, the door shutting behind him with a soft whoosh. ‘You can’t escape.’

‘No, please, no,’ I said with a giggle and ran towards the far side of the room.

He chased but I dodged at the last minute, went to run for the door. He cut me off and I swivelled, found myself barging into the bolted-down table in the middle.

I gasped as the air flew from my lungs, but recovered quickly and, with my hands flat on the cool surface, scooted to the end.

Tom was facing me now, his face strewn with shadows, but I could see the thrill of the chase had flushed his cheeks and caused him to pant.

‘Come here,’ he said, edging closer.

‘No.’ I moved away from him in a circle around the table.

But it was futile; he was tall, fast and strong. Suddenly I was grabbed and tugged to the end, my body pulled up against his.

He pressed his lips down hard on mine and instantly the game was over. Now it was all about carnal satisfaction. With Tom, I was always guaranteed a spectacular orgasm and I couldn’t wait to start riding towards it.

‘Ah, yeah, baby, I’ve got you,’ he said, shoving my coat off and flicking it out of the way. ‘You gonna take it good again? Like you did last week?’

‘Yes,’ I panted, tearing at the buttons on his shirt. ‘Yes, that was so hot, I could hardly bloody walk the next day.’

He chuckled, low, deep and sexy, then kissed me again, the stubble on his chin scraping my skin and his breaths blowing hot and hard on my cheek.

He had my uniform up around my waist now and was forcing me to lie back on the ice-cold table. He stepped between my legs and leaned over me, pressing his groin into the gusset of my knickers.

‘Really, on here?’ I said, slotting my fingers into his hair and drawing my knees up so they pressed either side of his hips. ‘Where they chop up dead people? Isn’t that a bit freaky?’

‘The French for orgasm is petite mort so it’s kind of fitting.’ He was fiddling with the elastic of my underwear, at the juncture of my thighs.

‘Yeah, I suppose, but, oh –’ My words were cut off and turned into a delighted moan. He’d plunged two fingers high up inside me and found my clit with his thumb.

‘Oh, you’re such a dirty nurse,’ he murmured, kissing and licking over my cheek.

About Lily Harlem:

Lily Harlem is an award-winning author of contemporary erotic romance and lives in the UK with Mr Harlem and a host of rescued pets. Since giving up a career in nursing she loves to spend her days dreaming up naughty stories that have a happy ever afters. When you read her books be warned though, the bedroom door is always left wide open!

Lily Harlem links

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