Tag Archives: erotic fiction

The Last Dragon: The Story Behind the Story by Dianna Hardy

The Story Behind The Story

Thank you so much, KD, for having me back on your blog 🙂

Dianna HardyThe Last Dragon is the long-awaited, final, sexy, epic urban fantasy instalment of The Witching Pen series. And before I can really talk about the story behind this book, I need to refer you back to The Witching Pen post on this blog that I did a year ago – https://kdgrace.co.uk/blog/dianna-hardy-shares-the-story-behind-the-witching-pen-novellas/

In some ways, since this book is still part of that world, that post says a lot. The huge difference with The Last Dragon is that it is urban fantasy in tone. The last three books (which were paranormal romance) concentrated on couples getting together; The Last Dragon explains what happens after they’ve all gotten together.

Now, behind the story
 hmmm
 even though I started off writing erotica back in December 2010, followed by paranormal romance, I always had it in my head to write an urban fantasy – I love the grit of that genre – and I never wanted to be a one-genre girl anyway.

The Last DragonThe Last Dragon provided me with the opportunity to venture into urban fantasy for the first time: there is huge plot throughout this series and it all comes to a head in this final book.

A reader asked me recently, what was the inspiration behind the story of this series – is it based on experience? Did I dream it and then write it? The answer, I suppose, is that it’s a mesh of many things that I have learned throughout my life. I grew up in a multi-cultural society in Macau, and dragons are big there with the Chinese influence. Later in life, I learned about what dragons meant in the Western world and within Pagan mythology. I wanted to write a story that brought everything together; that united the world; that was about a mergence of differences. This begins in book one, with the first example we have of dark and light merging (Karl and Elena), and the theme of unity and letting go of duality continues throughout all the books.

You’ll find many countries and places referred to in this series, from the hot desert in Nevada, to the cool lakes of Scotland, to the isolated mountains of Beijing, to the mysterious heart of the Amazon rainforest, to the urban life of London, and more. The vast world is really quite a small place, and no matter where we come from, we are all united by common goals: love, forgiveness, and the need to become ‘whole’.

At the very core, underneath the love and sex and action and humour, that is what this story is about.

Book one of the series, The Witching Pen, is free to download from most eBook retailers: http://www.diannahardy.com/the-witching-pen.html

For information about the entire series and where to purchase, please go here: http://www.diannahardy.com/the-witching-pen-novellas.html

 

Dianna HardyAbout Dianna Hardy

Author of The Witching Pen and the international bestselling Eye Of The Storm series.

Dianna combines a titillating mix of paranormal romance and urban fantasy into her writing to bring you stories that are action-packed, fast-paced and not short of heat, with the focus on both character development and the plot. She writes both full-length novels and short fiction. All further info can be found at diannahardy.com

 

Find Dianna Here:

Website: www.diannahardy.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/authordiannahardy

Twitter: www.twitter.com/thewitchingpen

Amazon: www.amazon.com/Dianna-Hardy/e/B003AGRHFC

Google +: www.plus.google.com/u/0/110398750519005724804/posts

The Witching Pen website: www.thewitchingpen.co.uk

 

Prologue to The Last Dragon

NOTE: this excerpt contains scenes of a sexual nature, and SPOILERS for the series up to this point as The Last Dragon is the final instalment. These books are not standalones.

The Last Dragon, copyright © 2013, Dianna Hardy.
All rights reserved. Released on 4th October.

(The first night after all dimensions bled into one.)

Lying in the crook of his arm, she trailed her fingers along the contours of his smooth, firm chest. Without hesitation, she leaned in a little and followed that trail with her mouth, her kisses making his skin pebble.

He stroked her arm in response and sighed with pleasure, and then turned his head to take her in with those blue eyes she’d fallen in love with ten years ago – maybe even before that.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Just wanted to make sure you were.”

He smiled. “And this is your way of checking?”

“Is there another way you’d prefer?” she teased.
“No, this is good.”

Manoeuvring under the duvet, Elena threw one leg across his thighs and hauled herself up and astride him.

“Mmmm 
 better.”

She leaned down and captured his lips with hers. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Another kiss 
 deeper


“Are you sure you want to sleep here tonight?”

He briefly looked around the room that was Gwain’s – had been Gwain’s – although none of them were ready to admit what had taken place just over twelve hours ago. “I’m not ready to go home after this morning. Even if it’s safe, I just 
 can’t.”

“I know. We don’t have to.”

She nibbled his earlobe and he groaned, his hand finding its way to the curve of her bottom.

“Karl
”

“Mmmm?”

“Have you looked in the safe behind the bathroom mirror yet?”

“No. I will soon.”

Her nibbling continued down his neck.

“Karl
”

“Mmmm?”

“I want to make love.”

She felt him smile against the top of her head. “I kind of figured. Are you hungry?”

She paused for a second, letting the brief hurt of his words slide her by, and then glanced up at him. “No. Well 
 yes, but that’s not why—”

“Hey,” he cupped her face, “I know, but if it was the reason, it’s all right.”

Annoyed, she started to climb off him, but he pulled her back down and held her in place. “Elena, I love you,” he repeated, “and that means your demon too. If she needs to feed, it’s fine – it’s more than fine.”

“I want to make love to you because I want to feel close to you and because of everything that’s happened today – to feel safe and happy, if that’s even possible.” But she couldn’t deny that she was hungry, and her words rang hollow with the truth she kept hidden. It irritated her that she was so ruled by her demon’s needs. The succubus in her had been very prominent today, demanding her attention, and although the day’s events had been busy, she’d still found herself fighting with the fact that she craved sex – or rather, the energy that sex created. It wasn’t right that whilst in mourning – while everything was collapsing around them – she wanted to fuck for her own gratification.

She looked away from Karl, aware that he could read her like a book.

Pinning her on top of him, he reached forward and slipped two fingers under where she sat, finding her centre.

She moaned with delight, despite herself.

“I want you to make love to me,” he said, his voice coarse with desire. “Please.”

It was music to her ears and a hot river to the rest of her body. But still she fought it. “How can you stand it? The way I look when I
 What I do to you when I
” She couldn’t finish either sentence, partly because she hated thinking about it, and partly because he’d increased his pace, making her wetter and using her reaction to add fuel to her fire.

His erection had grown fully under her, expressing his own need. “Unless you’ve had a succubus make love to you, you don’t get to ask me that.” His fingers entered her, and she gasped, but had no time to enjoy the sensation because he moved her up and repositioned himself beneath her before bringing her back down.

His cock replaced his hand, both of them fighting for breath as she fell on him; drew him in; sucked him into her


“Christ,” he groaned. “
So good.”

And still she denied herself – denied her demon. “That moment when I come 
 it feels like I use you.” Repulsion sat heavy in her belly at those words, but it was her mother’s earlier confession that played out in her mind, feeding the self-loathing she tried so hard to master: They have a way of making things 
 pleasurable.

She full well knew what her mother had endured while enslaved in the Shanka world, because she knew exactly what her succubus was capable of. “All I feel is what’s inside – you inside me; the demon inside me. At that moment when we’re both on the brink, I lose control and she takes over – she’s the one that has you at that point. I’m scared she’ll kill you – I’ll kill you – all over again.”

“Fuck, Elena
” His head was stretched back, eyes closed in bliss. Had he heard a word she’d said? Probably not, because she’d been riding him harder and harder as she’d spoken, bringing to the surface what she so needed.

His soft, angel-glow began to emanate from his body, and that glow had her reeling in satisfaction, grinding faster 
 deeper


But he surprised her once more, as he so often did with his love for her. He had heard her. He looked up, bemused, a twinkling in his eye, “You know, some men like it that way.”

She landed a soft slap on his chest and couldn’t help but laugh, her own love for him swelling like a tidal wave, softening the heat of the river that traversed her for just a second – only a second, because the succubus’ love for him also swelled – yes, the demon loved him as much as she did – and it pulled her under.

Oh, no 
 losing 
 control
.

This was it. This was the moment, she simultaneously dreaded and craved.

Karl reached up, one hand in her hair, the other cupping a breast, both hands pulling her down so she couldn’t escape what she was. “Let her out, Elena. It’s okay 
 let her out.”

His glow intensified, and she whimpered as she felt her hold on the demon slipping.

“Let go, baby.”

Somewhere outside and beneath them, the ground rumbled with the quakes that had begun yesterday, and not eased off. Angels had fallen and demons walked the Earth among humans, all waiting in limbo for a dragon to rise.

“Oh, God! Let go, Elena!” His golden glow exploded from him and filled the room.

The succubus mirrored his reaction with her own need and Elena released her, unable to hold her back any longer.

Her skin cracked from head to toe, turned grey like cement – an arid, stony existence that only sexual ecstasy could completely nourish. Her eyes beamed green.

The demon hissed in victory, slammed herself onto her prize and held his writhing body down as she took every last drop she could from it, finally collapsing on top of him.

Heavy breaths filled the silence.

Through the haze of post-orgasm, Elena resurfaced. “Karl?” she said, shakily.

“Here.” His arms, with muscles trembling, came up around her. “I’m here. Shit 
 that was out of this world.”

Tears welled in her eyes. They were relief, joy and sorrow all rolled into one. Relief that Karl was alive; joy that she’d brought him pleasure, and sorrow because, even though the apocalypse was happening outside, it took place inside her every time they made love.

“You and I,” she whispered. “The love we have – I don’t want to ruin it with 
 I don’t want my need to overshadow everything, but it always does. Do you ever wonder what it would be like if it was just us? No demons, no angels – just us 
 would we be 
 nothing?”

Still embedded within her, his embrace tightened. “It’s not our supernatural halves that define us, Elena. Just us? That’s not nothing.” He nudged her forehead with his nose, and she met his gaze – loving, calm, steady
 He placed a lingering kiss on her lips. “That’s everything.”

The Retreat – Long Awaited 2nd Book in Kay Jaybee’s Perfect Sumbissive Trilogy is Now Available!

Kay Jaybee TRPer Sub- New ropeThe heat is truly on for October! The Retreat, book two, of Kay Jaybee’s stunning Perfect Submissive Trilogy, is now available.

The Retreat:

Just as Jess is beginning to relax into her new life as a submissive at The Fables Hotel, her employer Mrs Peters announces that she is loaning both Jess, and her dominatrix Miss Sarah, to one of their most demanding clients; Mr David Proctor.

Whisked away by the mysterious Kane to The Retreat, hidden in a remote part of Scotland, Jess and Miss Sarah find themselves teaching another submissive to meet Proctor’s exacting rules.

As Jess comes to terms with the techniques of The Retreat Mistress, and the strictly overpowering dominatrix Lady Tia, she discovers that Proctor’s motives may not be all they seem.

Just who or what is Fairtasia? And why does Jess feel like she’s walked into a warped fairy tale?

In order to get back to The Fables, Jess is going to have to be more than just a perfect submissive…

britbabes_kink_hotnraunchy_4Buy The Retreat Here: 

Amazon UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Retreat-Perfect-Submissive-ebook/dp/B00FKYCY5U/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1380789873&sr=8-2&keywords=the+retreat+kay+jaybee

Amazon.com- http://www.amazon.com/The-Retreat-Perfect-Submissive-ebook/dp/B00FKYCY5U/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1380790115&sr=8-2&keywords=The+retreat+kay+jaybee

 

 

 

Find Kay Jaybee here:kay jaybeepersubmustreads

http://kayjaybee.me.uk/

And her romantic alter ego, Jenny Kane here:

http://jennykane.co.uk/

Don’t forget! 

The first novel of the fab Perfect Submissive trilogy, The Perfect Submissive, is one of Xcite’s Must Reads for October! And on sale at £.77 or $.99 A great deal, since you’ll definitely want to read both!

 

Zak Jane Keir’s Black Heart: No Virgins, No Billionaires, Lots of Heat

On Writing Black Heart

Zak Jane Keir Black Heart postWhile I still haven’t actually read 50 Shades of Grey, I read a lot of the hype and praise – and criticism – of it last summer, and I started thinking about how boring I personally find the whole trope of Vacant Virgin and Bastard Billionaire. I wanted to do something that was about as far away from the standard woman-discovering-true-sexuality-at-the-hands-of-a-master as I could get, and I had this initially vague idea of an older woman and a gorgeous young man. And I decided to make him a musician because I have always been a rock chick with a serious weakness for musicians. That led on to the idea of two musicians in the same band, both of whom lust after the older woman and also have a strong attraction for one another and similar sub/bisexual fantasies.

I already had a ‘universe’ to work in, because I wrote a novella about five years ago called The Master’s Voice, which featured Ricky and Malorie, a couple of switches who run a sex shop and their friend Natasha, a dominatrix. I’ve also written a few short stories set in that world, and I felt as though I had a place to start, although Rosa, Daniel, Gary and Kester were all new characters. I think initially I was considering Rosa as someone who had left the fetish scene to marry some man who turned out to be a loser, or too vanilla, and then she would decide for some reason to go to a club for the first time in years and see Daniel on stage, but that seemed a bit too unoriginal. Also, Rosa was starting to come alive in my mind, and she just wouldn’t have done something like marry a bore; I wanted to make her back story more interesting than that, and also for her to have a reason for leaving the scene that wasn’t actually about having a broken heart or ‘falling in love’ and wanting to give up kinky stuff for the sake of Mr Right.

I’ve been ‘out’ on the fetish scene for years in real life, and I remember what it was like before the Internet was such a big part of all our lives – and also what the early days of online kinkiness were like. People did get terribly paranoid about the possibility of being outed as perverts, even though it was getting less and less of a newsworthy thing by the turn of the century, and also it was very easy for rumours to get a bit out of hand. I had a lot of fun dredging up my own memories of fetish clubs in the past, as well as going to some of the newer ones in the name of research for the present-day scenes.

One other thing I was determined to do was keep away from the concept that everyone is in, or aspires to be in, a monogamous heterosexual relationship. So there are maid-and-mistress relationships that don’t involve any actual genital sex; threesomes, a bit of gender ambiguity, lots of bisexuality and plenty of bondage and beatings.

Blurb:

Rosa’s has tried to put her kinky days behind her, and built a new life as the landlady of a popular pub. But the past isn’t easily forgotten. It seems like her beautiful new barman Daniel really needs a strict Mistress to take him in hand, and it’s Rosa he has a deep submissive crush on.

Natasha, Rosa’s new best friend, wants to help her rediscover her inner dominatrix, particularly now that legendary fetish club The Scarlet House is about to relaunch.

But Rosa’s previous ventures on the scene ended badly, and Daniel’s relationship with the drummer in his band is closer than he’s letting on. It seems like everyone’s got a dirty little secret deep inside…

Excerpt:
Maybe I am a goddess, she thought. Maybe I could be. Up here, adored, admired, all eyes on me and on my
 victim? My prey? I could get so addicted.

His buttocks were already marked with stripes from the cane: three distinct strokes, perfectly spaced. They quivered slightly as he shifted his feet, presumably growing impatient for the next anticipated hit. Out there, in the darkness, she could hear the muted roar of the audience: chattering, whispering, encouraging, and she raised the cane again. It felt good in her hand; thin and whippy and just the right length. Her face felt hot in the black leather mask, and her nipples were hard. Down came the cane with a whoosh and a crack, and his whole body jerked, but he didn’t attempt to straighten up.

Zak Jan Keir Black Heart PostTMV coverThis one was a good bottom, obedient and respectful. He appeared to have plenty of self respect as well, and she liked that. She could be remote and cool and untouchable with the grovelling ones and the snivelling ones, but a little bit of personality, a touch of cockiness, those things appealed to her a whole lot more. Another swish, another impact. She’d laid five hard ones on his arse now, and there was one more to go. She licked her lips, drawing out the pause, making him wait for it, making them all wait for it. He wriggled, beginning to squirm, and she realised he was rubbing himself against the whipping stool, that his cock must be hard and in need of relief.

She wondered what was going to happen about that. Would it be considered her responsibility? Did she want to do anything about it? She didn’t want to take him home with her and though she knew that other people sometimes made use of the toilet cubicles for a more direct and immediate release of sexual tension, she didn’t think it would be at all appropriate for her to do so tonight. They were all supposed to perceive her as wholly out of reach, the one who gave nothing away, no matter what rumours they might have heard. That was why she covered herself almost completely in PVC and leather; skintight trousers tucked into high boots, a waistcoat over the corset that pushed her breasts up and out but still concealed all but a tantalising glimpse of cleavage and long, soft leather gloves as well as the mask.

Purchase links

http://www.eburypublishing.co.uk/editions/black-heart/9780753550199

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.com

About Zak:

Zak Jane Keir has been writing erotica on and off for over 20 years. She has had work published in Forum, Erotic Stories, Fiesta Digest, Penthouse and others. Her published novells incude The Switch and Cathouse And The Castle (out of print, completely unavailable) along with a self-published novellas The Master’s Voice and The Libido Lounge

http://www.lulu.com/shop/zak-jane-keir/masters-voice/paperback/product-5583989.html.

Kelly Lawrence Talks about Erotica: Fact VS Fiction

Wicked GamesAs a writer of both erotic fiction and erotic memoir, the lines between the two can often become blurred. All memoir, even though it is ‘true’ is tweaked and filtered to fit a coherent narrative and while it may be truth it is a subjective truth. Certainly with erotic experiences we may be feeling something completely different to how other participants remember the encounter.

Fiction, of course is ‘made up’ yet most writers whether consciously or unconsciously write from the ground of their own experiences and knowledge. Certainly when writing sex scenes, which is why it’s often especially difficult to write an erotic scene from the perspective of another gender! In fact in my upcoming writing guide, Passionate Plots, published by Compass Books late 2013, I include a writing exercise that uses memory to craft a sex scene for writer’s new to the genre. If you would like to have a go at this, there’s a shortened version below.

Writing exercise – Write your own sex scene using memory.

I don’t want you to have to do too much thinking about who your characters are, what you’re doing and why for this exercise so to ensure that your erotic scene already has developed characters and a plot, we’re going to use a real memory. Yours. Pick a favourite past erotic encounter; it can be anything you choose as long as it’s a good memory, and turn it into a sex scene. Of course you may find yourself tweaking certain details and you could even tailor it to fit in the plot of a current story you are writing or planning, but in terms of the sexual content, use your memory. If you want to detach from it a little, write in the third-person rather than the first.

Think about where and when you can add sensory detail to create an evocative picture. Let yourself be immersed in the memories as you write.

Go.

Read over it a few days later and see how you feel and if there are any parts you would change.

Passionate PlotsOur own experiences are always a good starting point when it comes to writing erotic scenes. The beauty of fiction however is the reader doesn’t know which experiences are or aren’t your own. Of course, if you’re writing good fiction then the reader will be too immersed in the characters to think of the author at all. You can let your imagination go where it pleases. I recently wrote an erotic scene involving oral sex in a stable with a cowboy. Although I used my own sexual experiences as a springboard, creativity took over from there, as – unfortunately – I have yet to have sex in a stable with a cowboy! I love writing paranormal and historical erotic romance in particular as I can take real flights of fancy.

When it comes to writing memoir, it’s a very different process. As the writer you’re constrained to a certain degree by the facts as you see them, and this leads to a spiralling inwards rather than a creative leap – digging down right into your own dreams and memories and feelings. Although I found writing my memoir ‘Wicked Games’ a cathartic process, it was also an unsettling one that left me feeling vulnerable. There’s no hiding behind your characters when you are in fact the character! It’s tempting to gloss over the most revealing parts, but that often takes away from the intensity of the scene.

Erotic memoir is very popular at the moment, although as a genre it’s nothing new; in fact we get our word ‘pornography’ from the Ancient Greek ‘pornographia’ which means the ‘writings of prostitutes’ referring to memoirs that popular courtesans of the period often wrote to entice future clients – and probably, in time honoured girl talk tradition, share with each other too! Anais Nin’s erotic memoirs became literary classics, in stark contrast to today’s somewhat patronising ‘mommy porn’ labels.

Erotica as a genre is so enduring because all of us to some degree like stories and like sex. Put them together and you’re onto a winner. Erotic memoir, as distinct from its fictional counterpart, is I believe so popular because it gives us the forbidden feeling of delving into someone else’s most personal thoughts and deeds. It’s almost an act of voyeurism, and that’s partly what makes it so hot for the reader and sometimes unsettling for the writer; it’s like inviting the world into your bedroom. Of course as the writer you can pick and choose what to include, but leave too much out and it will feel inauthentic to the reader. Include everything, and you feel as though you’re walking around naked.

Often when writing ‘Wicked Games’ I struggled with including particular scenes that left me feeling raw, yet I knew would be brilliant for the book. More often than not I included them, and I think that feeling of being exposed made the writing better. I do wish my friends wouldn’t insist on reading parts of the book aloud when we’re in a public place however!

Of course there’s the option to ‘fictionalise’ a real encounter; I recently published a piece of ‘flash fiction’ that was originally a journal entry, and very real, but with longer pieces this can mean losing out on two counts. The writing lacks the appeal of being a memoir, but is more constrained than fiction. My advice to anyone considering memoir is just do it, but consider leaving the country afterwards.

Having said that, I’ve found that if you tell people you write erotica, no matter how fictional your work, they will still assume you have indeed had all the experiences you write about. So I would just like to take this chance to state; the scene in the sex club with a pack of shape shifters? Most definitely fiction. Mostly
.

Wicked Games Blurb:

A red-hot account of how an everyday woman is seduced into a thrilling sub/dom relationship. This is true-life erotic romance at its best.

From the Back Cover

‘I unwrapped his gift with shaky fingers. A pink and black silk blindfold. It was deceptively pretty and harmless looking. A bit like Alex.’

When Kelly meets Alex, she has little idea of the sexual revolution about to take place in her ordinary world. For Alex isn’t like other men. He likes to play games – wicked games – and he wants Kelly as his playmate…

Dare she submit to him – and to her own deepest, darkest desires?

In Wicked Games, every word is true. You’ve read the fiction – now find out how it really feels to surrender to the one you love…

Published by Black Lace Books, Random House RRP ÂŁ7.99 Also available in ebook.

 

Extract from Wicked Games

Then he reached for the butterfly clamps that I only now realised were on his desk. Of course, before he had ordered me in here all but naked he would have known how he wanted to play it. I licked my suddenly dry lips as I saw the clamps in his hands. I had wondered when they were going to make an appearance. Lately his nipple play had been getting rougher and more prolonged, as if in readiness for more brutal treatment. He would twist and pinch until my breasts ached. I had such sensitive nipples they practically had a direct line to my clit, so I guessed he had been building me up to the clamps.

‘This won’t hurt, but they will pinch a little. It’s when you take them off that they will really throb, but,’ he paused to suck a thumb and forefinger and then teased one nipple with them until it stood to stiff attention, ‘by that point, you’ll love it.’

I hoped he was right, wincing as he fastened the clamp over me. After the initial pinch it wasn’t too bad, and my arousal increased as he carefully applied the second.

‘Gorgeous.’ He admired his handiwork. ‘And now, you may suck my cock.’

I bent my head to take him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his glans to lubricate it before sucking it vigorously, then slowly sliding down the length of his shaft. As I did so he tugged and twisted on the clamps, pulling my breasts up and sending shocks of pleasure through my nipples and down to my now-throbbing clit. As I sucked him harder he pulled harder, so that I moaned around his cock.

Abruptly he stood up, taking me by surprise.

‘Stand up and turn around. Bend over the desk with your palms flat on it. Yes, like that.’

He kicked my legs wider apart with his foot as I bent over just enough to support my weight on my outstretched hands, the stiletto boots putting me at just the right height. He reached around to my breasts with one hand, pulling at each of the clamps in turn as he eased his cock into me, his girth making me gasp. He began to move inside me, slow and rhythmic, teasing at my nipples. It was an exquisite torture that made me desperate for more, but every time I tried to push my ass into him, hungry for him, he only slowed down, making me grip the desk with my fingers in frustration. I was desperate to touch myself, but knew I would only be reprimanded and that he might even stop altogether, so I tried to hold myself still, the sensations building in me as he played my body expertly. I was so wet around him I could feel my juices soaking my thighs, and a high whimpering sound came unbidden from my mouth.

‘You like that, baby? Hmm, I think I’m being too soft on you.’

He pounded into me then with a stroke that all but had me sprawling over the desk, stopped only by his hand in front giving a now-truly-vicious twist to my aching breasts. He fucked me hard and fast for a while, his hands at my breasts mimicking his rhythm, and I drowned in the pain then pleasure then pain then pleasure that warred for supremacy within me until they merged into one and I was no longer aware of the difference between them.

He stopped, pulling me up and round and on top of him so that I was straddling him on his chair, and paused for a moment to remove the clamps, tossing them to one side. As promised my nipples began to throb immediately and with an intensity that made me gasp. He took my breasts in his hands, pushing them together and sucking hard on my already tortured nipples. I rode him frantically, my orgasm taking me over completely, his mouth sending shockwave after shockwave through me, drawing my orgasm out as if he were wringing every last drop out of me. Only when I collapsed on top of him, panting, did he release my breasts, guiding me back on to my knees in front of him to finish as we had begun.

I can, without hesitation, thoroughly recommend nip­ple clamps.

 

Buy Wicked Games Here:

Print:

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

eBook:

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

 

Kelly LawrenceAbout Kelly Lawrence

Kelly has been writing since she was able to pick up a pen and wrote her first novel, an historical romance about Anne Boleyn, at the tender age of twelve; it consists of 200 notebook pages tied together with string and still takes pride of place in her grandmothers’ display cabinet. She was married at eighteen and divorced at twenty-one, and graduated with first class honours from Warwick University in the meantime. After seven years as a literacy teacher she now writes full time. ‘Wicked Games’ is her first book, a true-life erotic memoir that she hopes will scandalise the locals in the beautiful village she now lives in, in the heart of the Derbyshire Dales. She lives with her wonderful and long-suffering partner and has recently become a practicing Buddhist.

Find Kelly Lawrence Here

alannta@yahoo.co.uk

A Taste of Paris by Lucy Felthouse

A Taste of ParisBook two of the A Taste Of
 series

Ryan Stonebridge and his friend Kristian Hurst are traveling on their year off before going to University.

Unfortunately, Kristian has been called back home due to a family emergency. Ryan continues on to Paris alone, hoping his friend will join him again soon.

In the meantime, Ryan’s lucky streak with women continues, and by the time Kristian makes it to Paris, Ryan’s bumper box of condoms is depleting rapidly. However, there are more than enough women to go around, and Kristian intends to have some sexy fun of his own, and when the boys get a chance to play with two sexy ladies at once, they certainly aren’t going to turn it down.

Ellora’s Cave
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks

*****

Excerpt:

Ryan could hardly believe his luck. After a sex-packed day and a bit in London, he was now being propositioned by a sexy older woman on the Eurostar. The Paris-bound train had just started moving and it seemed the woman wanted to spend at least some of the two-and-a quarter-hour journey to the French capital fucking him in the toilet.

He shook his head disbelievingly. Then, after making sure no one had witnessed their exchange—when she’d given him the come-on—he slipped from his seat and made his way as nonchalantly as possible in the direction the woman had gone. He quickly found her, standing in the area between carriages that also housed the public conveniences.

She looked around, ensuring no one could see through the glass doors at the ends of the carriages to either side of them, pulled open the toilet door and dragged him inside.

Ryan barely had time to catch a breath before she’d locked the door, slammed him against it and molded her lips to his. She tasted of expensive champagne—she’d probably been indulging in St. Pancras station’s champagne bar—and it suddenly made him very aware that, although she’d started their sexy rendezvous, he was most likely taking advantage of an inebriated woman. He twisted his head away.

“Hey,” he said, grasping her arms and pushing her gently away from him. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re gorgeous and very, very sexy, but you’ve been drinking. I don’t want you to do something you might regret later.”

The woman laughed, long and loud, and Ryan worried that someone might have heard her and wonder why on earth there was a woman laughing to herself in the train toilets. The last thing he wanted was to open the door and find a pissed-off member of staff waiting there. There was no excuse for two adults being in a locked cubicle together that anyone would believe.

Clapping her hand over her mouth, the woman suppressed her mirth, then finally spoke. “Yes, gorgeous blond one.” Her French accent surprised him—he’d thought she was a tourist heading to Paris. “I have been drinking champagne. But only a glass. I’m certainly not drunk.”

With that, she pounced on him once more, and Ryan decided not to resist any longer. They were both consenting adults and he had protection in his pocket—so where was the harm in indulging their baser instincts? His cock definitely didn’t see any further reason for delay as it filled with blood and pressed against the crotch of his jeans.

He pushed his fingers into her thick black hair and pulled her more tightly to him, deepening their kiss. She was eager and, judging by the way she was rocking her hips against him, incredibly horny. He held out for as long as he could, exploring her mouth with his tongue, nibbling at her plump lower lip and pulling her hair to expose her white throat. Before long, though, the pants and tiny mewls coming from the woman’s mouth pushed him to the point of no return. His cock was all but bursting from his jeans and he really needed to be inside this woman’s pussy.

*****

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012, 2013 and 2014 and Best Women’s Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9