Tag Archives: erotica

Happy Masturbation Month

Sex toy incentiveMG00625-20140322-1049As a novelist, who writes erotic romance, May is always a red letter month on my calendar because it’s National Masturbation Month. Okay, I’ll be there first to admit that for me, every month is masturbation month,  and I’m always a bit surprised that anyone could be ashamed of such a powerful creative force.

I’ve shared this delicious tidbit about masturbation before, but as we all gear up for the rowdy, randy month of May, it’s always timely.

The ancient Egyptians believed masturbation was a creative act in its own right. In the Heliopolis creation myth, the god Amen rises from the primeval ocean, Nun, and masturbates the divine son and daughter into existence, and they populate the world. Even if I look at the Judeo/Christian myth in the first two chapters of Genesis, where God speaks the world into existence, I am still looking at a solo act.

Eric Francis on Betty Dodson and Carlin Ross’s Sex Information Online site writes, ‘Masturbation is the most elemental form of sexuality, requiring only awareness and a body.

Awareness and a body. Masturbating the world into existence. It happens all the time. At the risk of offering too much information, my understanding of sex, my deepest understanding of my own sexuality, comes from awareness and my own body. That’s what I have to work with. My understanding of writing, my deepest understanding of the creative forces in me also comes from awareness and my own self.

I’m astounded that in a world where solitude and the meditative tradition is a part of almost every religious discipline, we shy away from the very concepts that could have well given birth to it, awareness and Body. Can there really even BE awareness without a body? And how can we possibly understand the boundaries and the limits of either without the two rubbing up against each other. Our act of one-ness, our proto-sexuality, as Eric Francis calls it, I suggest is by its boundary-exploring nature, also our proto-creativity.

A Snippet from Fulfilling the Contract to honour  Masturbation Month

(Caution! Adult Content)

The damned alarm went off in the middle of the hottest fuck Nick had ever had. He came up out of the Fulfilling the Contractdream roaring like an angry bear and practically slapped the clock off the night stand in his efforts to shut it off. There was no going back to sleep, not with his heart hammering and his dick stretching out between his legs like it owned the place. Cursing between his teeth, he stumbled to the bathroom with only one eye half open. Not bothering with the stop at the commode for the piss he knew he couldn’t manage as hard as he was, he shoved his way into the shower and cranked the hot water. No cold showers this morning. He had every intention of giving this dream a good send-off. For a minute he leaned against the wall letting the jets from the shower massage work their magic. Then when he was nice and wet, he soaped up, still not bothering to open his eyes, still doing his best to capture the vivid images from his dream. Once his chest and armpits, lower back and ass were well lathered, he went to work where he needed it most. And when his pubes felt like they were mounded in thick whipped cream, he closed his fist around his well-sudsed hard-on and began to stroke, letting the dream flood full-on back into his head. It had all started on the top of the Humvee in the parking lot at the Mango. It was right there in broad daylight. He had Tanya Povic’s tropical print skirt shoved up over her ass, ploughing into her fast and furious while he kneaded her gorgeous tits like they were bread dough ready to bake. They were grunting and thrusting and shoving and she kept saying in that sexy Slavic accent, ‘Is good! Is so good! Fuck me harrderr, Nick Chase, I vant to come!’ And he was happy to oblige.

The parking lot was full of people with scopes and cameras, of all things, and they were all watching Nick mount Tanya on top of the Humvee. Some of the men had cocks out tugging and jerking like they’d lose control. The women either had hands in their panties or on their tits, which they were happy to expose to the desert sun. Some of the watchers were even humping each other while Tanya kept begging him to fuck her harder.

Elsa Crane had her keyboards and monitors and electronic surveillance equipment set up on the hood of his limo. She was all bent over with her leopard print loin cloth barely covering her magnificent ass. Then all of a sudden she turned to Nick and Tanya and said in a loud voice, ‘Tanya, you’re fired. Get off Nick and let me fuck him.’ Nick watched with his cock in his hand while Elsa gave Tanya’s tits a fondle and made her bend for a good pussy-probing, as though she might be trying to stash something in that tight little hole — like office supplies maybe. It was a dream, after all. As Elsa stroked and spread and examined Tanya’s cunt, Tanya turned her attention back to Nick’s hard-on, giving him a sucking that would have made his eyes cross if he hadn’t been so keenly focused on what Elsa was doing.

Finally Elsa gave the woman a hard smack on her pert little backside, and Tanya went in and out among the crowd offering to suck cock or lick pussy for anyone who would fulfil the remains of her contract so she could get her bonus. Then the next thing he knew, Elsa had her top off and her loin cloth hoiked, as she crawled right up onto the Humvee and mounted him in a seductive squat, her tight pussy sheathing him like a surgical glove. Then she grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up to nurse on her luscious tits, a task he was totally up for. People with their cameras and scopes moved up close and personal-like, to where he could even hear their heavy breathing, which was no small feat above his own. With Elsa Crane gripping and squeezing and rocking and riding, he was about to go off like a nuclear warhead. And then … Then the damned alarm clock went off instead of him.

The tug, tug, tug on his cock against the bounce of his lead-heavy balls was just about to get him there under the pulsing of the shower, though why it should be Elsa Crane who got his cock iron-stiff, he didn’t know. She was a hard ass, if ever there was one, and she’d all but laughed at him when he’d offered to fulfil Tanya’s contract. Tug, tug, tug. She probably did laugh when he turned and left. Jesus, it was insane what they were doing. Filthy insane. He thought about the ménage he’d viewed through the telescope. Tug, tug, tug. He thought about him standing in the desert jerking off from the experience, and it was Elsa Crane he’d been fucking in his fantasy. Jesus, what was it about that woman? Was it that avalanche of thick shiny hair? Those deep blue eyes? Was it the fact that the leopard print did little to disguise the fittest body he’d ever seen? Was it the slight gravel to her voice that he just wanted to rub up against? Tug, tug, tug.

But as the dream gave way to his fantasy, she wasn’t begging him to fuck her harder. She was hardly the begging type, was she? In his fantasy, she rode him like she was a jockey and he was her stud. She didn’t need to ask him anything. She took what she wanted, and he was happy that she took it from him. Suddenly the cameras and the scopes and the watchers were almost on top of them and it was enough. All of them watching Elsa Crane fuck him until his balls exploded – it was enough. He came in a convulsing, backbreaking ejaculation that belied how hard he’d come in the desert just a few hours ago. The cascade of steamy water from the shower washed the evidence of his lust down the drain.

Furious Temptation from Elsie Hepner

Here’s a sneak peek at the latest paranormal yumminess from Elsie Hepner, Furious Temptation. Enjoy! And when you’re done, leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Elsie’s novel, Furious Lust!

Hell's Fire - Flames, fire and sunsetBlurb for Furious Temptation:  

 

For millennia Megaera, a Fury, has functioned as Hades right hand by passing judgment on demons who break the sacred laws. Stalwart in her  moral compass, but harboring a curse triggered by rage, she walks a thin line between perfection and destruction. But when she digs into a case  uncovering a string of demon rapes, she incites a war with Mount Olympus that could ripple chaos throughout the ages.

Omen Cole was demon made during the Civil War after repeated torture at the hands of his enemies.  Sentenced to an eternity as watchdog over  his emotionally frail, once human ex-wife, he’s haunted that he couldn’t save her from a brutal assault.

Now it’s happened again. And Megaera needs his testimony. Omen will sell his body—and anything else—to avenge his fragile ex-wife. If that means  an alliance with Megaera, he’ll make it the most memorable of their eternity.

 Excerpt :

“Give me a chance, you won’t regret it. You want out of this situation as much as we do. It would be more than worth your trouble, I would guarantee that for you.” His fingers skipped across my collarbone until my fingers shook at my sides and I shoved them onto the edge of the bookcase behind me. I held onto the antique wood and pain twisted up my wrists. But he didn’t move back. His lips remained poised against my ear, our hair mingled, and his fingers danced on the only expanse of naked flesh on my body.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you know by now?”

I couldn’t see his eyes, but judging from his tone they were twinkling and bright with mischief. All the anger he’d been carrying, every stubborn action had been wiped away and replaced with misleading flirtation. And as much as I wanted to doubt him—he was good. Embarrassingly so. Omen’s every attention spanned into a gapping chasm of sex I’d all but put under lock and key. And then I swallowed that key. Yet his teasing voice, small bursts of air from his conversation, still licked across my skin in invisible caresses down my neck.

“Why don’t you tell me.”

If he was truly insinuating what I thought he was whispering in my ear under lock and key as my prisoner I wanted him to say the words. Because I couldn’t imagine he was desperate enough to make the proposition outright. While my fingers scrambled, I navigated the murkiness of my thoughts. If only he’d draw away. As if he meant to break me down bodily before making me take leave of my senses. With the knowledge of his manipulation came the tendrils of my anger that I’d been tamping down all day, trying to bank the embers. Suppression was a nasty business.

As sexy as he wanted this little meeting to be, I had a lovely secret weapon tucked in my pocketless skirt suit. My rage had never been my friend before, but if she would keep me from making a reckless mistake, right this second she was my BFF. Omen shifted as if he knew something between us had changed. Surely the atmosphere between us crackled with a different energy, one far more deadly than the reason I had wanted my hands wound around his neck.

“I’ll do anything you want, be anyone you want, if you give me this chance. Taking you into my bed would be far from a hardship. In fact, I’ll go farther. I can’t stop thinking about you beneath me. How well I’d love to treat your repressed little body so that my name echoes in your mind because you’ve been crying it out for so many hours. I’ll make this risk in the investigation merely a bump to get my attention, for as long as you’ll have me. And for both our sakes, I hope you keep me for a while. I don’t get bored easily.”

As his lies slid across my neck I did the first thing that came to mind. While he was lost in his seductive ploy, I lunged, wrapped my hand around his throat, and threw us both back onto the bed so I was straddling him, pinning both his hands above his head. For a beat I couldn’t recall whether or not my move was intentionally sexual or not—but here we were—and judging by his obnoxious smirk he had a fine idea.

But I only needed one hand to pin down his wrists, so I shifted in a blink and clasped my other hand around his throat, erasing his cocky expression, as if I’d drained the light from the room. His neutral expression held all the calculation of someone very, very careful. And though I’m sure he wished to, he didn’t move a muscle beneath me. Well, expect for the betrayal of his cock, which hardened between my thighs as my skirt rode up higher on my outer thighs and I tried my best to act as if I wasn’t enjoying our little moment together. I’d lose my high ground if I let the smallest moan slip. No matter how hard it was to ignore his pleasant pressure between my legs as his hard cock rubbed against my pussy.

I tried to remind myself I held all the cards when his gaze locked with mine. Neither of us spoke a word, waiting for my answer to his ludicrous proposition. He couldn’t be serious. Not when his charm and good looks got him in with my secretary as much as any other woman he’d seduced in his lifetime. I was one of many, of that I was certain. Even if he did look at me as if I was something special. And I’m sure he would have fought my silent accusations—if I’d given him room to speak.

“Even if for a second I didn’t see past your charade, Omen, I wouldn’t entertain the thought because it very clearly breaks several codes of ethics. But thanks, for the offer. I really, really appreciate it.”

With a look of smug wickedness I put emphasis into my words with every slow tilt of my hips against him as I held him immobile against his bed. His eyes flashed. Whether with anger or arousal I couldn’t care. Instead I slowly untangled us, tugged my skirt, and smoothed it with my hands. Omen lay on the bed as if I hadn’t gotten off of him. When he rubbed his neck with a few low noises in the back of his throat, I didn’t hold an ounce of guilt for my actions. Even if I still sensed him flush against my pussy.

“You still haven’t rejected my prior offer. Does that mean it’s off the table even without the incentive?”

“No. If it means making my job any easier I’ll allow you to see Claudette and follow your plan, but if it doesn’t work expect me to be beyond displeased. And you won’t enjoy me when I’m angry.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I can find many different ways to enjoy you.”

He half sat, leaning on his hands on the bed so I got a peek at his bare chest through the straining buttons of his button down which was rolled up at the sleeves. I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows. I wasn’t so gullible to fall for his act. No man had wooed me before now and none would unless a group orgy was involved. Granted, what Omen was offering was very one on one—but he only offered his body as a substitute for manipulation. By taking him to my bed I’d be belaying a weakness in my character.

3 d graphics fantasy landscape with magic treeAnd I had many flaws, but weakness wasn’t one of them.

I silently reminded myself of that as Omen straightened up entirely before wincing at the tent of his pants. I wish I could have felt sorry for him, but my mind was otherwise occupied with our more pressing problem. His erection would go away eventually and I would continue dodging his roguish comments so long as the investigation lasted. If he didn’t get sentenced for Claudette’s crime then the possibility of entertaining him in a less formal capacity in my bedroom slunk around in the back of my mind—but the likelihood of that was slim.

As if Omen read my mind he smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“How do we proceed?”

*****

Don’t forget to comment for a chance to win your copy of Furious Lust!

*****

Buy Furious Temptations Here:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Furious-Temptation-The-Furies-Series-ebook/dp/B00K017UPM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1398726549&sr=8-1&keywords=elise+hepner

About Elsie Hepner:

Elise Hepner lives with her husband and two eccentric cats in Maryland. She spends the majority of her free time in her basement office concocting smutty characters and sinful situations that leaves readers satisfied. When not writing, she researches everything from automatons in the 18th century to gladiatorial rules in Ancient Rome. She prides herself on being an avid information hound as well as a blog reading addict–which is her favorite way to procrastinate. Her previous publications include books and stories with Entangled, Excessica, Xcite, Ellora’s Cave, Secret Cravings Publishing and Cleis Press.

Author Links:

Website: www.elisehepner.com

Twitter: www.twitter.com/EHepner

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Elise-Hepner-Writing/311925106401

 

THE BURLINGTON MANOR AFFAIR by Saskia Walker (@saskiawalker)

The Burlington Manor AffairA legendary family estate.

A mutual longing.

A bargain struck.

Carmen Shelby wants what’s been left to her—the valuable estate that she once called home. Rex Carruthers is the heir to Burlington Manor, a ruthless playboy who enjoys playing games, and all he wants is for Carmen to surrender. There can be only one winner…

“Walker deftly spins a captivating tale that will have readers holding their collective breath until the last page is turned.”—Publishers Weekly on The Libertine

“Saskia Walker is one on the top erotic writers of the millennium.” – Alison Tyler

Buy links:

Amazon UK | Amazon USHarlequin US | All Romance eBooksMills and Boon UK

 

“As the kiss deepened, her body trembled—which only made his grip on her tighten. He wanted to keep his little bird…make her sing out with pleasure.” –The Burlington Manor Affair, Saskia Walker

 

Excerpt:

“The trouble with this arrangement,” Rex commented as he walked across the room, “is that I’m enjoying it rather too much.” He watched her reaction.

Carmen stopped dead, standing on the patterned rug in the middle of the room. “What are you saying?”

Rex sat down in a winged armchair.  “For a month you do everything I want, every weekend, absolutely anything and everything.” He paused, allowing his message to sink in. “And in return for that you get my half of the property.”

“I told you I’d pay.”

Those eyes of hers, such defiance. How delicious it was to see her fire.

“That won’t be necessary. You will have earned every tiny part of the property by the time I hand it over. Don’t worry about the money.”

She knotted her fingers together. “You’re trying to embarrass me. That wasn’t part of the bargain.”

“I don’t agree. Mostly because I don’t seem to have to try very hard before you get embarrassed. I think you’re embarrassment trigger and your arousal trigger are very close together.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I can’t help that, and neither can you.”

She pressed her lips together. She was clearly annoyed, and yet he could also see that she was acutely aroused. The hands-on treatment he’d given her out in the grounds had her poised for action. She was taut and watchful, barely waiting to be instructed.

Rex took a deep breath and savored the heady atmosphere of sexual anticipation.

When she noticed, she hissed as if in objection.

Rex lifted an eyebrow. She lowered her eyelids, but watched him from beneath her lashes. Rex laughed. Had Carmen Shelby always had these withheld submissive desires? It hadn’t been obvious before, of that he was certain. And the constant battle she was having with her needs—was that part of the package? Or was this dilemma of hers because she’d revealed her trigger to him, perhaps inadvertently? Whatever the reason, neither of them could put it back in the box now. No way. Now that he knew her little kinks and foibles he intended to play them out to their full extent.

“So what is the problem?” she demanded after he left her standing there in silence while he admired her.

“A month might not be enough.”

She glared at him.

“It’s day two and I’m loving every moment,” he continued. “Seems such a shame to put an end date on it.”

“You’re winding me up.”

“I’m being honest.” He was. This was too good.

“In which case you lied to me. If you don’t intend to stand up to your end of the deal, I’m walking out of here right now, and if I have to do that I promise you I will only deal with you through a solicitor!”

Angry Carmen was hellishly hot.

“Is this the ballsy businesswoman speaking now, or are you saying you can’t handle more than a month of this?”

Her eyes blazed.

“Seriously, aren’t you enjoying our time together?”

“You know I am, in some weird fucked-up way.” She folded her arms across her chest. “But I want a limit on it, for the sake of my sanity.”

Sanity? What did that really mean? He’d find out, all in good time. He knew he’d pushed her on the terms. “Fair enough. I suppose I’ll have to stick to my word.”

“It’s only sex,” she blurted, as if it was an afterthought.

“It is…and I must say I’m liking these kinky sex games of yours.”

“Mine?”

“Yes. Yours. Okay, let’s begin.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’d like you to prove to me how much you want the house and how hard you’d work to get it.”

“Now you really are trying to humiliate me.”

“Not at all. You said it made it easier for you when I took charge. Although I do think there’s a part of you that likes that…the humiliation.”

Oh, how her cheeks flamed.

Rex smiled. “Strip for me.”

 

Bio:

Award-winning British author Saskia Walker first dreamed of writing her own stories when she discovered a handful of romance novels stashed away in her school library. An avid reader, she lapped up the adventures and the life-affirming emotion of these stories, but always felt dismay when the bedroom door closed the reader out. She vowed that in her stories all the passion would be right there on the page!

Saskia began writing in the late 1990s. By that time she’d traveled the world, gained a B.A. in art history, an M.A. in literature and the visual arts and she’d worked in several diverse careers—but the stories in her head simply had to be written.

It is the combination of potent eroticism and strong storytelling that has become the leading characteristic of Saskia’s work. Fascinated with seduction, she loves to explore how and why we get from saying “hello” to sharing our most intimate selves in moments of extreme passion. She writes across genres, often incorporating elements of history, the paranormal and the fantastic in her work. As well as many novel- and novella-length publications, Saskia’s work has now appeared in more than seventy international anthologies. Her debut novel received the Passionate Plume award for the Best Contemporary Erotic Romance of 2006, and two of her novels have been nominated for a RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award.

Nowadays Saskia is happily settled in Yorkshire, in the north of England, with her real-life hero, Mark, and a houseful of stray felines. You can visit her website for more info.

http://www.saskiawalker.co.uk
https://twitter.com/saskiawalker
http://www.saskiawalker.blogspot.co.uk/
https://www.facebook.com/saskia.walker.965
https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/saskiawalker_news/info
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/104558.Saskia_Walker

Nature and Magic in Story

I just finished another instalment of Demon Interrupted for my blog, so of course my thoughts keep wandering back to the natural beauty of the Lake District and the magic I feel every time I walk the fells there.

The first time I lived in South England, I spent several years as a part of a Wiccan coven. That experience has helped me and very much inspired me with the writing of The Lakeland Witches books, especially when creating the rituals that drive the stories, from the very first protection spell cast on the high fells to the final cleansing ritual and everything in between. That experience is no less helpful as I revisit the Elemental Coven in my Demon Interrupted serial, which appears every three weeks on my blog. I’m especially excited about Demon Interrupted because it’s my chance to revisit Elemental Cottage and suss out one of the many stories yet untold of the witches of the Elemental Coven, and the people and beings who affect them, and I can’t revisit the coven, their Lake District home, or any of the new story unfolding without thinking of how connected and grounded in nature all of the Lakeland witches’ concepts of magic are. But then, it would hardly be a KDG story if that weren’t the case.

There was no sex magic practiced in the real coven of which I was a part. In fact, sex magic, as I’ve written it for the Elemental Coven, doesn’t exist anywhere else. All of the sex magic within The Lakeland Witches stories is a product of my fertile imagination. I chose to make the magic my witches practice sex magic because I wanted to experiment with the idea of what might happen if it were possible to take such a strong part of human biology, such a strong part of the human psyche, such a strong part of all nature, and harness it, shape it, use it as a force to drive magic.

The creative use of sex for magic, as I’ve chosen to write it, is unique to the Elemental Coven and the world in which they live. Covertly, however, all earth-centred spirituality has at its core sex, fertility, and the drive to bring about the next generation, the drive to bring about the next bountiful season. Sex and reproduction are at the very foundation of our existence. That’s pretty obvious, I know. But that sex is so much more, for humans, than just the need to procreate is a powerful driving force in erotica, and it is, in my opinion, a powerful source of magic in which even a sceptic like me can believe.

For me, the very best part of being involved in a pagan tradition was celebrating the seasons and the moon cycles, which automatically brought about an effort to live closer to the rhythm and flow of the earth. That meant an effort was made to be closer to nature, to be aware of the time when the buds on the apple trees begin to swell, to be aware of the time when Orion disappears from the spring sky and Sygnus climbs to prominence, and to be aware of how my own body’s rhythms sync with those of the planet. For me the sense of connectedness, the sense of being a part of the natural world, the sense of being a part of something far greater than myself was magical, and still is. Though I no longer practice with a coven, I find those natural rhythms are still within me, and I find them still deeply moving. Really they always were there, as they are in all of us. Sadly our modern, hermetically sealed life often separates us from those rhythms.

castlerigg_Stone_Circle1I learned a lot about nature while I was a part of the coven. I paid more attention to what was going on around me. I became more aware of the subtle changes happening all the time. That new awareness and that desire to know nature more intimately also inspired the Lakeland Witches Trilogy, as it does now Demon Interrupted. The writing is continually inspired by thoughts of how much else I might be missing out on because my awareness just hasn’t been sharpened enough. I suppose writing, in a way, is an effort to do just that, to sharpen my awareness.

It was thinking about that heightened awareness and contemplating my own dreams that inspired my interpretation of the Ether and the Dream World as places where my witches and their consorts could go to do magic, create spells, and affect changes in the World of Flesh. They were also places where my baddies could bring about fear and destruction, and also escape to when there was a need.

Though the world of my Lakeland witches is far more magical and frightening than was my own coven experience — for which I’m very thankful — I tried to infuse all of my characters with a love and an appreciation for that natural world. Because I’m deeply in love with the English Lake District where the Lakeland Witches stories are set, I tried to bring as much of the reality of that world into the stories as I could so that whether it’s Anderson and Cassandra’s story or Ferris and Elaine’s story, there is a firm grounding in a very real, very wonderful place.

But beautiful, inspiring Lakeland can also be a place of terrifying power and great danger when the storms ravage the high fells. I wanted the world of the Lakeland Witches to feel real and concrete, to express all the facets of the place I love. And I believe that by setting the stories in a real place and drawing that real place as vividly as I’m able, the magic, the interactions with ghosts and witches and demons will be grounded and just a little more scary and a little more sexy and a little more true to life.

Read Demon Interrupted here

If you want to know more about the Elemental Coven’s adventures, check out the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy: Body Temperature and RisingRiding the Ether and Elemental Fire. Enjoy!

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The 5th Instalment of Demon Interrupted: A Lakeland Witches Story

castlerigg_Stone_Circle1I’m very happy to offer the fifth instalment of  Demon Interrupted, a new story from the Elemental Coven that will be unfolding in its entirety right here on A Hopeful Romantic over the next few months.

The Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy left so many stories untold and so many fun places in the lives of the Elemental Coven yet to be explored, that a serial seemed like the ideal way to share more of the coven’s adventure. With a coven that specialises in sex magic, it’s not only exciting to revisit my witches at Elemental Cottage, but it’s sizzling hot. Here are the links to the previous episodes in case you missed them:

Chapter 1 Demon Interrupted: Perchance to Dream.

Chapter 2 Demon Interrupted: A Chat with a Demon

Chapter 3 Demon Interrupted: Enter the Shadows

Chapter 4 Demon Interrupted: Dark Chrysalis

Enjoy Chapter Five, and thanks for joining the fun with this Work in Progress.  If you want to know more about the Elemental Coven’s sexy adventures, check out the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy: Body Temperature and RisingRiding the Ether and Elemental Fire. Enjoy!

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Chapter 5 of Demon Interrupted

The Empty Spaces in Between

‘How the hell did I get here?’ It took Ferris a few seconds to realise that there was no one else in the SUV and that it was he who had spoken. He was no longer in his study at Storm Croft, He was no longer in Surrey at all, nor was Elaine with him. He was on the A 66 following a farm tractor, along with a half a dozen other vehicles, crawling toward Keswick. The sun was just going down, and the saddle-backed behemoth of Blencathera loomed large to the right of him still catching the last rays of light on its western flank.

She had killed her husband. The last memory Ferris had before coming back to himself in Cumbria was Elaine revealing to him that she had killed her husband, that she had been hanged for that reason. Surely he had misunderstood her. Surely there were extenuating circumstances, but he’d had no time to ask or at least he had no memory of asking. There had been long stretches of time of which he had no memory during the years he served Lucia, watching out for Cassandra. In fact, on occasion, it almost felt as though he could choose to shut down, like a computer when it’s no longer being used. Back then the lapses in memory, the loss of time, hadn’t seemed strange at all to him, nor had they mattered. But now things had changed. His life had changed. He remembered every detail of the time he’d spent with the Elemental Coven, and he would have wanted to miss none of it. Now, the loss of such a significant stretch of time and, at such an inconvenient moment, was more than disturbing. Surely Lucia was responsible. The tractor turned off near Threlkeld and Ferris sped toward Elemental Cottage, anxious to get home, and truly, Elemental Cottage felt like his home now. He didn’t know whether he was desperate to talk to Lucia or desperate to avoid her.
Demon Interrupted Image by Kev‘You’re just in time for dinner,’ Fiori called from the kitchen, as he walked in the door. ‘Sea bass, at Anderson’s request, of course.’

‘Is Tara around?’ He said, not wanting to ask specifically for Lucia.

‘She and Kennet had some errands to run in Keswick,’ she replied. ‘They should be back soon.’

Anderson and Cassandra were just coming down the stairs. When Cassandra saw Ferris, she threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek, the buzz of her energy making him feel like he’d just drank a couple of strong pints. ‘You’re back. We were worried you wouldn’t make it in time. How was Storm Croft?’

‘Same as always,’ he said, brushing the hair away from her face and nodding his greeting to Anderson. ‘The grounds are lovely this time of year, keeping the gardeners busy.’

For the first time he could remember since he’d arrived at Elemental Cottage, he didn’t taste the meal, even though he knew it was delicious. Fiori’s sea bass was spoken about in hushed tones, and it was always a favourite for Full Moon dinner. The new potatoes and baby carrots with peas were fresh from Tara’s garden, but he didn’t taste them. Even the white chocolate cheesecake with fresh strawberries was wasted on him. Neither did he hear the brisk banter and laughter that was always the best part of a meal shared at Elemental Cottage. His mind was on his encounter with Elaine — if it really had been an encounter. And surely it had to have been because he didn’t dream. Yet it would have been easier if she had been only a visitation from his dreamscape.

Later as he unpacked his bag before he showered for the Full Moon Circle, he discovered among the socks and carefully folded black shirts several dusty tomes about demons and several more about the history of Storm Croft. He didn’t remember packing them. He didn’t even remember having them on the shelves in the library at the great house. Most of the relevant volumes, Cassandra had brought back to Elemental Cottage when she had made it her permanent residence. The books were all leather bound and, from the looks of them, quite fragile. He would have never transported such treasures so carelessly, and yet here they were. Very carefully, he placed them on the bureau and grabbed his robe.

He could hear the rest of the coven milling about downstairs. He’d had no chance to talk to Tara, since she and Kennet had had a flat tyre on the way back from Keswick and had made it in time to eat their portion of the feast in the kitchen after where Fiori had kept it warm for them. As he joined them for the walk to the Dream Cave, he realized he really didn’t know how to approach Lucia. She had always approached him. Demons usually did what they wanted and in their own time. Just because she now resided in Tara, didn’t mean she was always there, present and accounted for. She needed flesh no more than she needed to breathe, but after Deacon’s defeat and Tara’s horrible sacrifice, no one was completely sure that Tara could now live without Lucia’s possession of her. In truth, Ferris was at a loss. There was no knocking at Lucia’s door, and he would just as soon the rest of the coven knew nothing about what had happened at Storm Croft.

‘Guess we’re together tonight, since you don’t dream and I’m not all that good at magic.’ Alice fell into step next to him as they made their way to the cave. Normally Full Moon was celebrated under the open sky whenever possible. Ferris had no idea why Tara had decided to do the circle in the cave.

‘Your magic is far better that you give yourself credit for, Alice, and you can hardly compare yourself to a coven of witches who were raised to it.’ Ferris and Sky had been tutoring Alice on basic magic. She really was quite gifted. She had only recently made her first forays into the Ether with Cassandra. It had taken her some time to overcome her fear of the place after Deacon had dragged her there, along with Ferris, as his captives. She would, indeed, be a huge asset to the coven when a little more emotional healing had taken place and she was a little farther away from those nightmarish memories of what Deacon had done to her. He laced his fingers through hers. ‘We’ll offer support this time,’ he said, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze. ‘It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it.’

She smiled up at him. ‘It’s a safe job. Not so important to you, maybe, but then you’re not nearly as neurotic as I am.’

She had no idea, he thought.

When everyone was gathered and all of the candles were lit around the perimeter of the cave, Tim spoke up. ‘Why are we in here doing dream magic on a gorgeous night like this? I would have thought we’d gather down at the tarn.’

Tara, who had been speaking softly to Anderson, her second in command, looked around at her coven. ‘We’re here tonight because of a dream that Kennet and I had together. We, all of us, have suffered from what Deacon has done to us, and though there’s been a lot of healing, a lot of rebuilding those bonds that make us a family, we all know how much we’ve lost and how far we have to go.’ She turned to Fiori. ‘I know you’re still having nightmares, Fiori, and I know there are several others among us, maybe even all of us who are either suffering from nightmares or well … basically post traumatic stress.’

She looked right at Ferris, and he felt heat crawl up his neck and over his cheeks. Living in the cotton wool present that Lucia had created for him, he had never suffered from anything for very long. But things were different now. For all of them.

The High Priestess continued. ‘Our most intimate act, even more so than the sexual bond we all share, is the act of sleeping and dreaming together, is the act of allowing each other to walk our dreamscapes. In that there’s bonding. In that there’s healing.’

‘In that there’s embarrassment and humiliation,’ Tim groused.

Everyone chuckled uncomfortably. Tim was right, but so was Tara. She offered him an unimpressed look. ‘Nevertheless, Mr Meriwether, we will dream together.’

‘There are Swedish pancakes for afterwards,’ Fiori offered with a cheery smile.

‘Well that’s at least something,’ Tim said.

Tara glared at him. ‘I’ll feed your share to the dog if you don’t watch your mouth, Meriwether.’

‘We don’t have a dog.’

‘Harry Gibbons up the road does. Nice big collie. Loves Fiori’s cooking.’

Once the circle was cast, Ferris took Alice’s hand and pulled her down onto one of the sleeping pallets that ringed the cushions on which the main dreamers would dream. For maximum magic, tonight that couple was Tara and Kennet. They were the most powerful dreamers. But the coven was strong in dream magic. Tim and Marie, and Cassandra and Anderson also excelled in it. Ferris knew that was a good thing, and yet he always dreaded it, especially after his recent encounter with Lucia and what had happened to him at Storm Croft. But dream magic was sex magic, as was all of the magic the Elemental Coven practiced, so when Alice shrugged out of her robe and reached for him, he was fully erect and completely focused on bringing her to the brink of orgasm and keeping her there as long as possible. This, he could do, and this would keep his mind from wandering where it shouldn’t.

He was intimately familiar with Alice’s body, as he was with all of the Elemental Coven. Alice was a keen fell walker and he loved the feel of her hard muscles under soft feminine curves beneath his hands, beneath his lips, beneath his body. He loved the feel of her biceps as her arms encircled him. He loved the tensing of her pectoral muscles when his hands and his mouth found their way to her high, firm breasts with their nipples peeking candy floss pink at the flick of his tongue and the purse of his lips. The swell of them fit the cup of his hand and together formed a tight cradle for his erection to tunnel through as her tongue flicked over the anxious advance and retreat of the head of his cock.

He loved the way her stomach tightened and ridged in anticipation as he kissed down the slope of it, lingering to tongue her navel before descending to briefly rest his cheek against the softness of her pubic curls. Her strong fingers always fisted in his hair in a nearly painful grip as he shouldered open her strong thighs and continued his descent to kiss the Keystone, always distended and pressed in anticipation from beneath its hood. Then, to the soundtrack of sex all around him, he buried his face in the swelling depths of her, seashore-scented and wet.

As the magic built all around them with each thrust, each caress, each kiss, she groaned low and throaty and lifted her feet onto his shoulders, giving him better access, along with a view all the way back to the gripping clench of her anus, giving herself the leverage to bear down. He lapped the honey and salt taste of her with long strokes of his tongue and sucked and tugged at her inner folds as if he were starved for the feast she offered. She bucked and writhed against his mouth as though she were riding a horse in need of taming. He stroked and suckled and licked her open, relishing her mother of pearl arousal, sticky and warm on his fingers, feeling his own arousal surge and press outward above the achy weight of his full sac.

‘I need you inside me,’ she whispered, a whisper he felt more than heard. ‘I need you inside me, Ferris.’ He pulled away wiping his wet face against the back of his arm. As he rose above her to position himself, holding his cock in one hand and spreading her folds with the other, something flashed dark in his peripheral vision. It all happened so fast. He blinked, and as he thrust into Alice’s depths, the afterimage of Elaine danced across his eyelids. Distracted, he scanned the perimeter, but there was nothing. Alice lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist thrusting up to meet him, and his full attention returned to the magic, to her pussy’s gripping, slippery caress of his cock.

And Goddess, his cock felt big! It felt big enough to fill the cave, and the ache in his balls felt molten hot and heavy. As Alice’s grip around his waist tightened and the tension rippled up her spin, up his, and as they reached the point at which he intended to hold her, the high plateau of arousal that would weave their own thread of magic into that of the rest of the coven, he marvelled at how tiny she seemed beneath him, how delicate she was in his embrace. He marvelled that he didn’t tear her apart with his need, with the violence of his thrusting. He marvelled that she cried out as she did, that her need matched his.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. It shouldn’t have happened. They had played their part in dream magic often enough to know how to control it, and yet he felt the clench of her orgasm grip his cock, he felt her heals kick against his spine, and he lost control. He lost control and emptied himself into her, coming in wrenching waves, growling like a wild animal, and he came as though he would turn himself inside out.

It was only in the last throes of his release that he realised her legs were no longer around him, her palms Fells in the mistwere hard at his chest shoving him, and the sound of her arousal was drown out by the sounds of fear. Over the buzz in his head he heard her breathless cries, ‘Get away from me! Get away from me! Where’s Ferris? What have you done to Ferris.’

It was as he moved to calm her, still struggling to figure out what had just happened, that he saw Elaine just beyond the periphery of the circle and, before he could stop himself, he shoved to his feet and ran toward her, feeling the protective magic of the circle as though it flayed him of all skin when he forced his way through without cutting a door. ‘Elaine!’ He called out. ‘Elaine, don’t go!’

‘What the fuck?’ Tim cried out. Someone else called Ferris’ name. Behind him he heard the shouts of the coven as the circle erupted in chaos, but his eyes were locked on the ghost fleeing toward the fells. It was only then that he realised he’d left his body behind in the circle on the cave floor.