Tag Archives: Lucy Felthouse

Out Now – Native Tongue – M/M Erotic Romance by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #erotica #romance #military #interracial

Native TongueBlurb:

They may be back on British soil, but the battle isn’t over.

When Captain Hugh Wilkes fell for his Afghan interpreter, Rustam Balkhi, he always knew things would never be easy. After months of complete secrecy, their return to England should have spelt an end to the sneaking around and the insane risks. But it seems there are many obstacles for them to overcome before they can truly be happy together. Can they get past those obstacles, or is this one battle too many for their fledgling relationship?

Author’s note: Although this story does work as a standalone tale, it’s recommended that you read the first instalment of the characters’ journey first—Desert Heat, which is available from all good retailers.

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/native-tongue/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25462496-native-tongue

**For those of you that haven’t yet read Desert Heat either, there’s a great value double pack containing both books available exclusively on Amazon (from 14th May), which is available for lending, and for Kindle Unlimited members: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/desert-heat-native-tongue/ **

*****

teaser_nativetongue

Excerpt:

Captain Hugh Wilkes drummed enthusiastically on the steering wheel of his car as he drove it up the M3 towards London. He sung loudly and tunelessly along to the song on the radio, too, but it didn’t matter. No one could hear him.

He’d surprised himself by being so chilled out about the volume of Friday evening traffic. He wasn’t the most patient of people, so the slow progress should probably have been increasing his blood pressure, if not leading to full on road rage. But, although he’d have loved to be actually achieving the speed limit, not bumbling along at a mere fifty miles per hour, Wilkes was just glad the traffic was moving at all. Britain’s roads, the motorways in particular, soon came to a standstill if there was so much as a tiny bump between two vehicles. So any progress was better than none.

Besides, what could he do about it? His only other options to get to London from his base in Wiltshire were a train, or stealing a plane, helicopter or tank. The latter might just cause a little bit of bother, and mean the end of his army career, not to mention criminal charges. The former meant cramming in amongst sweaty, disgruntled commuters. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d be charged an extortionate amount to do so, probably wouldn’t even get a seat, and would likely be subjected to delays.

At least driving took him from door to door, with plenty of personal space. And if there were delays, well, he could sit them out from the comfort of his own vehicle, with the climate control set to the perfect temperature, and the radio blasting some of his favourite tunes.

The next song was even better, and Wilkes’ tuneless wailing became more enthusiastic, as did the drumming on the steering wheel. He was in one hell of a good mood, and if he was truthful with himself, he knew it wasn’t just the fact the M3 was moving at a nice pace. It wasn’t the Friday feeling, either. Sure, both of those things were contributing to his happiness, but the main reason he was grinning like a buffoon was the thought of what awaited him in the capital. Or rather, who.

Rustam Balkhi. His gorgeous Afghan boyfriend, whom he’d met out in Afghanistan while they were working together for the British Army. Now, with their tour of duty over and the forces’ presence pulled out of the country, the two men had returned to England. Wilkes had gone back to his regular army life in Bulford Camp, near Salisbury. Balkhi was in London, where he’d recommenced the medical training he’d postponed to become an interpreter for the Brits.

The past few weeks had been somewhat of a whirlwind. Wilkes’ return to the UK had been straightforward, but Balkhi had had to jump through some hoops in order to get back onto his medical course. He’d been willing to start from scratch, but it’d seemed like an awful waste of time, so Wilkes had spoken to his superiors, who’d explained to the university what important work Balkhi had been doing. Fortunately, they’d been persuaded of Balkhi’s commitment and character, and allowed him to pick up where he’d left off. That settled, Balkhi had to pack up, travel back to the UK, find somewhere to live, move in… and all before the start of the next academic term.

Wilkes had felt terrible. His return had taken place a few weeks before Balkhi’s, so although he’d been granted some leave for R&R, he hadn’t been able to either spend it with Balkhi, or to use it help him with his relocation. By the time Balkhi had set foot on British soil, Wilkes was back to work. And, given nobody knew about the two of them, or even that Wilkes was gay, he couldn’t exactly ask for more leave in order to help his boyfriend move into his new flat.

Life had conspired against them ever since, so this was the first opportunity they’d had to see each other since saying goodbye in Afghanistan all those weeks ago. They’d communicated via email, text message and phone calls, but it just wasn’t the same. Especially since they’d gone from seeing each other every single day for the best part of six months to not setting eyes on each other for weeks on end.

Wilkes had struggled terribly in the interim. Life had been tough enough while they were still out in the desert. After weeks and weeks of trying desperately to ignore their growing attraction, they’d finally given in to it. It had been stupid and risky, but, having quickly realised there was more to their attraction than the physical, they’d decided to carry on their relationship in secret while they were in Afghanistan, see how it went, and figure things out once Wilkes’ tour of duty was over. Balkhi had always intended to return to the UK for his studies, so they would, at least, be living in the same country.

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. 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

 

Sexy Just Got Rich Now Available in Print!

BBBillionaires

 

If you’re like me, you love your kindle, love your eReader, in fact you’re practically joined at the hip with it. As I get ready to make my yearly visit to my sister in the States, I’m making sure my eReader is well-stocked with luscious reading — including a copy of Sexy Just Got Rich. But I’d be the first to admit, like most people I still LOVE the feel, the smell, the sight of a real book. All us Brit Babes do, and with that in mind, we’re very happy to offer our latest anthology, Sexy Just Got Rich, in print for the real book lover in all of us.

 

Sexy Just Got Rich Blurb:

Billionaires have it all but that doesn’t mean they don’t have to work hard to get what their hearts desire. In this brand
new anthology of erotic BDSM stories the Brit Babes offer heroes and heroines who aren’t shy about taking what they want. From farmyards to luxury penthouses, wealth is all about sating needs, connecting souls and taking pleasure to new highs. Whether you’re looking for a coffee break read or something longer to curl up in bed with, you’ll find something to suit your needs in Sexy Just Got Rich.

Buy your Print Version of Sexy Just Got Rich Here:sexyjustgotrich cover

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Get a Copy of Sexy Just Got Rich for your eReader:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

Here’s a little teaser from my story, Buying the Farm. Enjoy!

Buying the Farm Blurb: 

Cassie Fielding is at her wits end trying to save the family farm from bankruptcy after her father’s illness. But when
Cassie returns from university, she finds that, in spite of their financial situation, her father has hired the mysterious, Simon Dennis to help run the place. As Cassie and the new hired hand experience an unprecedented heat wave of lust, Cassie comes to suspects that her father and Simon may be in cahoots with their own plan to save the farm, and the whole scheme depends on her.

Excerpt:

She dreamed of the hired hand that night. In her dreams, she met him in the woods below the barn. He was naked and wild like some animal that belonged there in the shadow of the oaks and hickory trees, and he had taken her without a word, on her hands and knees in the leaf litter, while she forced her bottom up and opened her legs enough for him to see that she was ready, that her need matched his own. He took her, hard and fierce, forcing the breath from her lungs, biting and kneading and growling. And she had growled back. Her nails had scored his ass in an effort to get him still deeper and the sound they’d made when they came together had startled the birds from their roosting places and raised the hackles of the night prowling beasts. And then he had lifted her into his arms, carried her into the cabin and laid her down on his bed. To her total surprise, that’s where she woke. Blinking, and wiping sleep from her eyes, she found herself still dressed, but tucked up nicely in the cabin, in the bed of the new hired hand, who was nowhere be to be found, but his bed and his room had that delicious smell of a virile male at his prime.

*****

 

Cassie had hurried out the door and made a run for the house, too embarrassed to linger lest the man return. Of course her father was out doing the morning chores. She’d had a quick shower and returned to the ham and eggs breakfast Joanie shoved at her. Joanie was a family friend who had been helping out when she could since Merrill Fielding’s heart attack. ‘Your dad knows you’re here. Simon told him he found you asleep under the oak trees. He figured you’d planned to overnight in the cabin, not realizing it was occupied. He tucked you into his bed and slept in the barn.’

Well that explained a lot, Cassie thought, then she fought back a blush that felt like it would roast her cheeks off. That also meant that the man had known she was there. Christ! Had he known she’d watched him? Known what she was doing? ‘Simon?’ she asked, shoveling in her breakfast with her head down so Joanie couldn’t see the blush.

‘Simon Dennis. That’s his name.’ Joanie scrubbed at the window above the sink as though it had offended her somehow. ‘From Chicago, I hear. Had some high finance job there. Don’t know why he gave it up to play farmer, but from what I hear,’ she turned back to Cassie to impart the latest, ‘he definitely doesn’t need the money.’ She inspected her reflection in the glass.

Advert10302697_501578709969443_5836215139193579296_nNice that someone can afford to play farmer,’ Cassie growled.

‘Apparently he told your father he’d work for room and board. Course your father’d never allow that. He insisted on paying. Still, I think the two of them are up to something.’ Joanie finished the window, then grabbed up Cassie’s empty plate and refill her iced tea glass in one exquisite example of the multi-tasking the woman was so good at. ‘He’s a looker, I’ll say that for him, and polite. I don’t think he’s ever done farm work before. Had some serious blisters his first week or so, but Merrill says he’s a fast learner and seems to have quite a good understanding of a working farm in spite of being a city boy.’

Suddenly Cassie’s insides turned to ice. What if he was thinking of buying Fielding Farm? Christ, farms all over the Midwest were being bought up by big corporations. The independent farmer was going the way of the Dodo bird. Well if he was thinking about buying them out, she’d have a thing or two to say about that. It was her farm, her home. And she wasn’t about to deed it over to some bored moneybags to whom it was just another business deal.

lily-harlemJoanie had left her with instructions on reheating the chicken potpie that she’d put in the refrigerator and Cassie was just about to head into the garden when the kitchen door blew open and her father practically dragged her from the chair into a bear hug. ‘Cassie-girl! You snuck in on me last night. What a great surprise to wake up and find my girl back home! I missed you darlin’’ He hugged her again.

She noticed immediately he felt much stronger than he had before. ‘I missed you too, Daddy.’ He looked better too, she thought. Hopefully he was well on the mend, but all the worrying about paying the bills certainly couldn’t be helping much.

She smiled and nodded out the window to the bedraggled veg patch. ‘I noticed you’ve got a bumper crop of weeds this year. I was just about to head out and see if I could harvest some of them for you.’

kay jaybee subclubJust then Simon Dennis stepped through the door, and damn if he didn’t look even better in sunlight than he did in moonlight. He was dressed in a well-sweated tee shirt and faded jeans, which he filled out nicely, and his smile was positively edible.

‘Not just yet, Cassie.’ Her dad nodded Simon in. ‘I suspect Joanie’s already told you all about Simon here. Knowing her, she probably knows more about him than he knows about himself, but this is the man in the flesh, who I understand was kind enough to give you his bed last night.’ If her blush mirrored Simon’s then her father surely had to suspect that it wasn’t as straight forward as that.

Simon’s eyes were dark green, she noticed, and his hair was almost, but not quite black. There was a smattering of freckles across his nose from hours spent in the intense sun, though from the looks of the rest of him, his complexion was just that shade of olive that tanned deliciously rather than burned.

kd grace subclubSimon offered her a well-calloused hand. The firmness of his grip made her think of how good it must have felt wrapped around his cock last night, which in turn made her wonder how the hell she’d ended up in his bed. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ she croaked, trying not to blush, trying not to think about places on her own body where his hand would feel good. Christ! She SO didn’t need to think about that with her dad standing right there between them.

Her father shifted nervously from foot to foot, and she suddenly realized that maybe her father did know, maybe her father was about to fire Simon. Oh God, she hoped not, because it was all her fault, staying to watch the man instead of leaving him to his private moment. But then again, they couldn’t afford Simon anyway, could they? Worse yet, what if her father had decided to sell out to Simon? ‘Cassie.’ Her father’s voice got her attention. ‘Sit lexie baysubclubdown, sweetie. And Simon,’ he nodded to the other side of the kitchen table, then he sat down nervously at the head of the table as though he were afraid the chair might bite him in the ass.

‘Daddy? What’s going on?’ Her voice sounded small as her mind raced at all the possibilities – most of them not good news.

Her father squirmed in his chair and tugged at the collar of his shirt. ‘Well, Cassie, I know how worried you’ve been about the financial situation at Fielding Farm, and hell, I’m an old man. I could live wherever as long as there was a roof over my head, but this is your home, your inheritance and I know that it matters to you that it’s been in the family for so long. So I’ve been racking my brain and racking my brain, and then I met Simon.’ He offered lucy felthouse Subclubthe man a quick jerk of a smile, then turned his nervous attention back to Cassie and cleared his throat. ‘Well, as I said, I’m sure Joanie has told you that our Simon here is a financial wizard.’ Simon didn’t smile at the compliment. If anything he seemed unhappy about it. ‘And we … Simon and I … put our heads together and came up with a plan guaranteed to save the farm.’

‘Really?’ Cassie scooted forward in her chair, giving both man a quick glance. ‘What exactly did you have in mind?’ Her gaze settled on Simon, who seemed icy calm and the expression on his face, the sudden squaring of his shoulders made him look like he belonged in a conference room in front of a board of directors, in spite of his jeans and t-shirt.

tabitha rayne subclubFirst he glanced at her father and then turned his lovely green eyes on her. ‘A deal,’ he said. She could smell that same deep earth and ozone scent beneath the scent of a grassy field. It was the same scent she’d smelled in the cabin, in his bed.

‘A deal?’

Her father cleared his throat and tugged at his shirt again.

‘What sort of deal?’

As Simon Dennis leaned over the table, the farmhand was completely transformed into the CEO. ‘It’s a pretty simple deal really, Cassie. You marry me and save Fielding Farm.’

victoria blisse Subclub
The air in the room suddenly felt thick and congealed. The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall and the roar of blood in her ears. Both men held her gaze while she made several fish gasps.

It was a damn good thing she was sitting, or she was sure her knees would have given beneath her. But she took her time answering him, not because she was playing the game. Hell, she didn’t even know there was a game until this minute. No, she took her time answering him because she had to wait until she could be sure she could breathe without suffocating, be sure she could speak without her voice trembling. ‘Is this an ultimatum?’ She managed.

Natalie Dae Subclub‘No. It’s just the best way to protect your interests and save the farm,’ he replied.

God the man was smooth. She gulped tea and found her voice again. ‘OK, I’m just mercenary enough to do that, but what’s in it for you? This isn’t Chicago. Under the best of circumstances Fielding Farm isn’t worth even one of your lower end business deals. And this isn’t even close to the best of circumstances.’

His jaw tightened until she was afraid he’d break teeth, and his lips thinned to a tight line. The muscles along his neck twitched. ‘I like it here.’

Before either of them could say anything else, her father cleared his throat with a sound like someone starting a lawn mower then shoved back his chair. ‘I’m going to let the two of you have space to talk, and then, Cassie, if you need to yell and scream at me, I’ll be down in my workshop.’

She didn’t try to stop him as he left. Her father, she knew she could handle. He was stubborn, but he was also a reasonable man. In truth, she really was mercenary enough to take Simon up on his offer, but she leaned over the table, once again calm, and said. ‘It’s pretty obvious what’s in this for me, Simon, but I need to know what’s in it for you? I SJWIT_1need to know that you’ve not got ulterior motives. Hell, you don’t even know me.’

‘As I said, I like it here. You have what I want, what I’ve always wanted. And,’ a blush worked its way up his tanned throat onto his cheeks. ‘I need a wife.’

She blinked. ‘You need a wife. Well, I’m sure a man like you can have your pick of nice trophy wives and debutants. Why me?’

‘My father’s already got several willing trophy wives and debutants picked out for me, and I don’t want any of them.’

‘So you’re marrying me to get your father off your ass.’

‘I’m marrying you so I can stay on your farm.’ He shrugged and offered her half a smile. ‘And to get my father off my ass.’

She studied him over the table. ‘What else do I need to know?’

He took a deep breath. ‘I’m the oldest and only son. My father wants me to take over the reins of Dennis Consolidated. I could do it, but I hate it, and frankly I’m not the best person for the job. I marry you, become a farmer. Dennis Consolidated gets the best possible CEO to lead them into the future, and dad gets over it. Happy ending.’

‘You’re really willing to marry someone you don’t even know to achieve that end?’

‘Oh I’m willing,’ he said, offering her a smile that was flat out scary. ‘Besides. I know you better than you think. Your father adores you, and I’ve been paying enough attention to know that he has good reason.’

She reached for her tea glass and finished it in one long gulp,’ spilling a good bit of it down the front of her shirt, and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘And will that be a marriage in name only or will it be a real marriage.’

He laughed out loud and his green eyes sparked bright emerald. ‘After last night, I hardly think the two of us could keep it platonic, Cassie.’

‘Just making sure.’ The butterflies danced low in her belly, and her nipples offered him a full salute in her slightly damp shirt. ‘And what about a pre-nup?’

‘I don’t need a pre-nup. Hell you can have whatever you want of mine. I don’t give a damn.’

This time it was her turn to laugh. ‘I was talking about me. I want a guarantee that if it doesn’t work out, if we’re not compatible, you won’t try to take Fielding Farm away from me.’

The look on his face was something between stunned and hurt, neither of which she really expected. For a long Keep Calm10350544_501578259969488_8488128928937746351_nmoment he said nothing, then, his gaze darkened, he reached across the table and squeezed her hand. ‘You have a lawyer draw it up and I’ll sign it. But I promise you, Cassie, I would never take Fielding Farm from you and your father.’

Strangely, she believed him. For a long moment, they sat in the silence of the kitchen, her heart hammering as though it would jump from her chest. He showed no signs of impatience, no signs of stress. He only sat holding her in his dark green gaze.

At last she found her voice. ‘All right. I’ll marry you. But if we’re gonna do it, we need to do it now and get it over with. I don’t have time for all the hoopla and planning for pulling off some swank wedding during the busy season.’

Simon offered her a quirk of a smile. ‘Your father told me you were a hopeless romantic.’

 

Cultivating a Story for the Brit Babes SEXY JUST GOT RICH Part 2

sexyjustgotrich coverBreak out the popcorn and the chocolate! You’ve just joined the party for the second half of a double feature! The first half is over on the Brit Babes’ Blog today, so don’t miss out on the first half of Cultivation!

I’m celebrating the Brit Babes’ fabulous new anthology, Sexy Just Got Rich with a double dose of vintage K D Grace. Sometimes older stories are the inspiration for newer ones, and sometimes a romp back down memory lane gives us writers a chance to see how we’ve grown. That has happened with Cultivation, which is actually one of my very first published stories, one that I can easily use as a mile-marker in my growth as a writer, but one that I loved enough and, in which I found enough inspiration to use as a jumping-off point for my contribution for the Sexy Just Got Rich anthology – Buying the Farm.

Today I want to share with you how an old vintage story can inspire a new one, a more complete one by giving you THE WHOE THING! I said a double feature, and I meant it. While the first half of Cultivation is over on the Brit Babes’ blog TODAY, the conclusion of it is here on mine, so grab the popcorn and settle in for the second half. If you’ve not read the beginning yet, follow the links right on over the the Brit Babes’ blog and part I of Cultivation. If you’ve already done that, then enjoy the climax!

Afterwards be sure to check out the buy links and the blurb for the totally delicious Brit Babes’ anthology, Sexy Just Got Rich to see what Cultivation inspired, and to read totally sizzling stories by all eight of the Brit Babes. In the meantime, enjoy the read! And don’t forget to support our Thunderclap! 


Cultivation Part Two

Apollo kneeling before her, Apollo healing her. The room seemed suddenly out of focus. She closed her eyes, fighting back tears.

“Are you all right,” he lifted a cool hand to her forehead. “It is pretty warm out today. You should lie down a minute.” He eased her back onto the bed. “Shall I get you some water?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay. It’s just strange being home, knowing I’ll never go back to St. Louis, knowing that … nothing will ever be the same.”

“Things change.”

“I know,” she felt a tear slide out from under her closed lid. “But just for a little while can’t we keep things the way they are?” She scooted over and patted the bed next to her.

He hesitated briefly, then lay down cautiously. She snuggled in close to him and laid her head on his chest, breathing in the earthy scent of him, feeling his heart race as she slipped an arm around him.

“I’m dirty,” he said.

“So am I.” She ran a hand down his chest and brought it to rest low on his belly, feeling his breath catch and his stomach muscles tighten. “I watched you masturbate last night.” For some reason telling him seemed such a natural thing.

“I know.”

“You weren’t embarrassed?”

He smiled, “I was aroused.”

She held her breath. “Did you know –”

“That you were aroused too? Yes, I knew.”

There were a thousand questions she wanted to ask him, but the silence was so companionable.

Slowly, cautiously, he exhaled, then he enfolded her in his arms close to his heart beat.

And Apollo was chasing Daphne through the woods, so close that at times his hands brushed her skin, but even as his touch burned her with desire, she fled on, protecting her innocence. She felt his breath on the back of her neck, like a hot summer wind. Her nipples ached for the touch of his hand, and between her legs there was a swelling of need, a longing for secrets only he could teach her, if she’d only let him touch her there, if she’d only let him take her. But her innocence. Her innocence…

Cassie woke with a start, still lying in Simon’s arms.

“Are you all right? You fell asleep and I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

“Apollo was chasing me.”

He smoothed the hair away from her face. “Did you turn into a tree?”

“Not yet.” That he knew the story somehow touched her, and once again she fought tears. “But I’m afraid I will any moment, and then I’ll feel nothing ever again.”

There was a knock on the door and they jumped apart. Simon stood quickly and straightened his clothes. “Yes?”

“Dinner’s ready.” It was Cassie’s father. “Have you seen Cassie?

“She’s here.” He shot her a quick glance. “We’re dressing a blister.”

“Well, hurry up. Joanie can be unpleasant if dinner gets cold.”

 

The next day Simon went to the fields early, and Cassie worked in the garden alone, thinking of Simon, thinking of Deke, thinking of Apollo and Daphne. She was walking in the woods that evening when Deke arrived. He wore his best jeans and smelled of deodorant soap. Under the edge of his John Deer cap, his hair was still wet from the shower. “Your dad said you’d be down here hiding in the trees.”

The Sex Toys Interview 009“The pileated woodpeckers are excavating a new nest,” she said. “There’ll be chicks soon.” For a moment they stood listening to the resonant drumming.

“I need to live here, Deke,” she blurted, as the woodpecker drummed again. “Your parents have your brother and sister close by. My dad has only me. We agreed we’d live here, remember?”

“Is that what’s been eating you?” He pulled her into a bear hug. “Hell, Cass, there’s plenty of room at home for your dad too if he wants. But if he doesn’t,” he added quickly, “we can live here. It’d probably be better actually. There’s so much that needs doing on your dad’s place. He hasn’t been able to take care of it like he should since his heart attack.”

She felt her hackles rise again. “We’ve managed.”

He gave her a peck on the forehead and mussed her hair. “Oh sure, you got by, but look at this scrub here? How many acres of good farmland is just going to waste because he never got around to clearing it.”

Cassie pushed him away. “This scrub is old growth forest, Deke. It was here when the first Fieldings homesteaded, and it’ll be here when I’m dead and buried beneath it.”

He chuckled softly and tried to pull her back to him. “Things change, Cass, and you might just find when we have a couple of kids to clothe and educate that a few extra acres of farmland will do us a whole lot more good than all that bullshit you learned at college.”

She stepped back and squared her shoulders, feeling her gut clench. “I stay and the trees stay and you go. Now.”

He heaved a sigh and scratched his head under his cap. “Cass, listen to me, you’ll see my point in time and –”

“I said go.”

For a moment he stood staring at her as though he were waiting for her to change her mind. Then he shrugged, turned on his heels, and walked back through the trees.

Cassie felt like her chest would burst from anger and from all the feelings she had no words for. She wiped furiously at her eyes. Was he really so obtuse that he didn’t understand what mattered to her, or did he simply not care? Did he not see there were things that, once set in motion, could never be undone?

She wasn’t sure how long she stood beneath the hickory tree feeling paralyzed, feeling trapped, watching the shadows move across the leaf mold and disappear, whishing she could do the same. After what seemed like an eternity, she looked up to see Simon standing next to her.

“It’ll be dark soon.” He shuffled from foot to foot suddenly embarrassed. “Your father said you’d be all right. He says you know these woods like the back of your hand.” He stepped closer. “But I thought… I thought maybe you might need someone — ”

She didn’t give him time to finish. Instead, she lifted her arms around his neck and pulled him to her, finding his mouth warm and yielding, responsive in ways that sent tremors down her belly and into her groin.

Gently, he pulled away. “We should go.”

“No!” She pulled him back to her. “Don’t leave me like this.” She tugged his tee shirt from his trousers and shoved it up to caress his pectoral muscles, feeling them tighten beneath her touch. “Give me what I need, Simon. I may never have another opportunity.”

His large hands cupped her breasts, and he slid his thumbs over her taut nipples before he caressed the curves of her hips and the roundness of her bottom. “There are always opportunities,” he whispered against the hollow of her throat. Everything in her ached as he paused to drag the shirt off over his head and drop it onto the ground.

“It’s not really change I fear, Simon. It’s that things will stay the same forever.” The tears started again.

“The choice is yours. It’s always yours.” He brought his hands to rest on her shoulders, then shoved aside the straps of her tank top and bra, pushing everything down until her breasts were mounded, nearly toppling from her clothing. Then he traced the path along her collarbones and down her chest, lifting her breasts free from the constraining garments into his kneading hands. She watched through a faceting of tears as he took each nipple in turn, suckling as much of her fullness into her mouth as he could, then circling the stippling of her areole, with feather strokes of his tongue.”

“Oh God,” she cried out. “I want… I want so much.”

“Then have it. Have it all. No one’s keeping it from you.” He knelt in front of her, working his way down the flat of her stomach, pushing and shoving her clothing out of the way, tasting the salt of her sweat, nipping the goose flesh of the sensitive path down to her navel. There he nuzzled beneath the waste band of her cut-offs, fumbling with the fly until he had freed a path over the curls of her pubis. His hands slid over her hips, easing the shorts down, cupping, caressing, fingers finding pathways and crevices thickening and moist.

“I don’t know what to do,” she gasped.

“Yes you do. You’ve always known.” He slipped one leg out of her shorts and lifted it until her foot rested on his shoulder, then he trailed kisses from the swell of her calf up the inside of her thigh until his mouth met his fingers. For a second he knelt before her pouting vulva, fingers still fondling and stroking, holding her open to his hungry gaze. Then he released a sigh and the warmth of his breath sent shivers over her pussy and up her belly.

She whimpered softly at the lavings of his tongue — cautious at first, almost shy in its exploration. Then he grew bold, tongue darting, teeth nipping, lips suckling until his face glistened in the growing dusk with the sheen of her pleasure, and her legs gave way as she came.

Swee Corn 2 9 aug 2012He caught her. Making a nest in the leaf litter with his tee shirt, he lowered her onto the ground. She was still writhing as though she did not belong to herself, but to a possessing spirit who lived only for pleasure.

She watched in fascination as he lowered his jeans, releasing his erection, the tip moist with beading pre come. From his pocket, he took a condom and carefully slid it onto his cock, then he offered her a shy smile.

She opened her legs and lifted her hips, guiding him into her dilated pussy until he filled her and stretched her almost, but not quite to the point of pain. And when she so full of him there was no room for even a thought that wasn’t of him, he began to thrust and rock and rub, carefully at first, creating exquisite friction against the exposed node of her clitoris until it thrummed like a high tension wire.

The veins in his neck bulged as he gained speed and power, thrusting faster and harder. Then he gathered her still closer, his hands cupping her ass, pressing her to him, pushing still deeper until she was sure he would split her in two, and yet the thought of him stopping was unbearable.

And suddenly Daphne stood still. With the catch of her breath, she turned on tiptoes and lifted her arms to Apollo, who enfolded her to his heart and entered her, expanding her to take into herself the universe and everything in it.

The woods echoed with the cries of pleasure.

When Cassie returned from the woods, still pulling leaf litter from her hair, Deke was watching television and sipping coffee with her father. She nodded to her dad, then turned her attention to Deke. “We need to talk.”

He sat the cup down hard enough to splash coffee. “You got that right.” He followed her onto the front porch and plopped into the lawn chair balancing it on its back legs. “I’m listening.”

“I can’t marry you, Deke.” Her bluntness surprised even her.

“What?” The chair dropped back onto all fours, and Deke grasped the arms as though he feared being catapulted out. “Just because of a little disagreement? Surely we can work this out.”

“No we can’t. We’re just too different in too many ways. I’m sorry.”

“We weren’t that different till you went off to St. Louis.” He stood and moved toward her, but she stepped back. “I waited for you, Cass. All these years, me wanting a family, and you off in college.” He spat the words as though they were vile.

“You’ll find someone else. Lots of woman would happily give you a family.” She paced the porch, gathering her thoughts. “But I’m not the one. Fielding Farm is my home, and I’ll farm it how I see fit, college bullshit and all.”

“You’ll regret this, Cass, and when you do, I may not be around to take you back.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

He shoved past her and down the steps.

Her father joined her on the porch just in time to see the gravel spin beneath the tires of Deke’s pickup. “You sent him packing?”

She nodded.

For a long moment, they stood in silence watching the sunset over the tender green of the young corn field across the road.

“For good?”

She nodded again.

“Took you long enough.”

She shot him a look of surprise. “But I thought –”

“I’m not so old I don’t remember what love looks like, Cassie, and that wasn’t it.”

Cassie’s laugh came out more like a sob, but before she could find words, he waved her away. “You’re making me miss the news, so off with you, down to the porch swing to plan the newer greener version of Fielding Farm.” He snapped his fingers and offered her a mischievous smile. “Almost forgot, you’ll have to share it with Simon now, but I reckon neither one of you’ll mind that too much.” He kissed her cheek and went inside.

The End

BBBillionaires4

 Sexy Just Got Rich: The Brit Babes Do Billionaires

Billionaires have it all but that doesn’t mean they don’t have to work hard to get what their hearts desire. In this anthology of erotic BDSM stories the Brit Babes offer heroes and heroines who aren’t shy about taking what they want. From farmyards to luxury penthouses, wealth is all about sating needs, connecting souls and taking pleasure to new highs. Whether you’re looking for a coffee break read or something longer to curl up in bed with, you’ll find something to suit your needs in Sexy Just Got Rich.

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Catch the Brit Babes’ Sexy Just Got Rich Blog Tour in its Entirety!

Miss the Sexy Just Got Rich Blog Tour? Here’s the links so you can catch up on all the gossip.

 

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Sexy Just Got Rich Blurb:

Billionaires have it all but that doesn’t mean they don’t have to work hard to get what their hearts desire. In this brand
new anthology of erotic BDSM stories the Brit Babes offer heroes and heroines who aren’t shy about taking what they want. From farmyards to luxury penthouses, wealth is all about sating needs, connecting souls and taking pleasure to new highs. Whether you’re looking for a coffee break read or something longer to curl up in bed with, you’ll find something to suit your needs in Sexy Just Got Rich.

Buy Links: sexyjustgotrich cover

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Out Now – Desert Heat by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #erotica #romance #gay #mm #military

Blurb:

Their love is forbidden by rules, religion and risk. Yet still they can’t resist.

Captain Hugh Wilkes is on his last tour of duty in Afghanistan. The British Army is withdrawing, and Wilkes expects his posting to be event-free. That is, until he meets his Afghan interpreter, Rustam Balkhi, who awakens desires in Wilkes that he’d almost forgotten about, and that won’t be ignored.

Please note: this book was previously published as part of the Unconditional Surrender bundle.

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Excerpt:

Captain Hugh Wilkes sucked in a deep breath, steeling himself for the heat he was about to be subjected to, though he already knew all the deep breaths in the world wouldn’t help. Darkness had fallen on Camp Bastion, in the notorious Helmand Province of Afghanistan, but there would still be residual warmth left to seep away throughout the small hours. Then the sun would rise, and it would start all over again. It was a damn desert, after all. But, all being well, it would be his last ever tour of the godforsaken place. The British Army was already preparing to pull out. The manpower had been reduced drastically over the previous months. It was time to leave the Afghans to get on with it. They weren’t being abandoned—far from it—they would still receive aid, training and money for years to come. But the British Army was no longer needed, apparently. It was still a volatile place, which would no doubt be monitored very closely, in case strategies needed to be reconsidered.

None of that was down to Wilkes, though. He was here with his platoon for six months, doing whatever they were ordered to do by their Company Commander, Major Hunter. It was unlikely they’d be doing any fighting—they weren’t here for offensive operations. More probably they’d be accompanying their vehicles, weapons and ammunition across the country as it was transported to the air base to be sent back home, or patrolling towns and villages as a show of presence, to reassure and protect the inhabitants.

There was only one way to find out. Grabbing his kit, he headed toward the ramp of the huge C17 aircraft with his colleagues, and followed them out onto the airstrip. Immediately, he was hit by the overwhelming smell of aviation fuel. As he moved away from the airplane this was replaced by the dry atmosphere.

Wilkes imagined he could feel the grains of sand coating his throat and tongue. He’d soon get used to it—he always did. Plus, on the bright side, he’d end up with a nice tan at the end of his deployment. Mentally, he crossed his fingers for a nice, event-free tour of duty. Letting his guard down wasn’t going to happen, naturally, he just hoped it wasn’t necessary. Hoped the insurgents would play nicely. The country was completely different to how it had been when Allied forces had gone in after 9/11. Some fantastic progress had been made, but it still wasn’t completely safe. But then, where was? People died in picturesque villages in the English countryside—though generally not courtesy of IEDs, AK-47s or suicide bombers.

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. 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