BEND
99 cents until May
11th
An Anthology from The
Erotica Consortium
Published: May
5, 2014
Stories and Authors:
Kick by C.D. Reiss
Unraveled by K. Bromberg
COME by J.A. Huss
Red & Wolfe by Ella James
The Devil in Me by K.I. Lynn
Worth by Shay Savage
These Men by Andrea Smith
STILL by Alessandra Torre
DESCRIPTION:
Eight mistresses of the erotic bring you eight original,
never before published stories to excite and arouse, including USA Today
Bestsellers Alessandra Torre and CD Reiss, and NY Times Bestseller K. Bromberg.
---------------
These are not your mother's erotic
stories.
We're not giggling about foul language
over tea, or avoiding smut talk at the Tupperware party.
This book is slick fingers and flesh on
your lips. It's twisted bodies late at night when the city sleeps and the moans
fall where no one can hear them. This book is pain and pleasure, lust and
passion, a body brought to the breaking point. It's drenched in the musk of
sweat, shuddering at the touch of a Master.
It's not your mother's erotica. It's yours.
-------------
Unraveled
By K. Bromberg
One night.
One mistake.
Filled with fear.
Sated by pleasure.
Robbed of control.
Blindfolded and bound.
Shamed she liked it.
Doomed to want it.
Limits tested.
Boundaries pushed.
Desire awakened.
Inhibition unleashed.
An identity unraveled.
Lives changed forever.
-------------
The Devil in Me
by KI Lynn
In search of strength and guidance at a nearby church, Jared
happens upon a temptation. One he cannot hope to resist. Each time he sees her,
the overwhelming urge to have her consumes him. The lust is overpowering,
dragging him deeper and deeper with each encounter, exposing the devil within.
------------------
Kick
The first novella in Songs of Perdition.
by CD Reiss
Fiona Drazen, sex addict, submissive slave, celebutante,
trapped in a mental ward until Dr. Elliot Chapman can help her remember why
she's there. But once she does, she might not want to go home to the Master she
tried to kill.
----------------
Worth
by Shay Savage
An injured Roman Tribunus finds comfort in the touch of the
slave commanded to tend to his wounds. As a slave, her value is measured as a
couple of coins, but as Tribunus Faustus learns more about her, he begins to
understand her true worth.
Still, a man of his station can never acknowledge feelings
for a slave, and she is already owned by another man.
----------------
These Men
by Andrea Smith
Paige Matthews has a lot to learn, and more than just about
being an intern with the F.B.I. Inexperience with all types of relationships
leaves her looking for a new place to live. Eli Chambers and his partner, Cain
Maddox, are looking for a roommate. It's the perfect arrangement, but one that
will change all their lives forever.
---------------
COME
by JA Huss
He must have her, take her, control her, keep her. She will submit. But she will do it when she
is ready and willing. The bond is uneasy and the future uncertain. But one
thing's for sure.
Alone... Harper and James are dangerous.
Together... they are unstoppable.
----------------
Red & Wolfe
Part I - An erotic telling of Little Red Riding Hood.
by Ella James
After years attempting to contact her estranged grandmother,
an artist who lives on a remote island, Sarah "Red" Ryder is
surprised to receive an invitation. When she arrives at the island, she's
shocked to find it is now the home of J. Wolfe, the reclusive artist, who has
his own plans for her.
---------------
STILL
by Alessandra Torre
I was raised right. To mind my manners, keep my knees
together, to put my napkin in my lap. But somehow, with one look at the dark
sexuality that is Brett Jacobs, I forgot my Southern graces. They may have
gotten lost in the pushmeupagainstthewall and takemehere action that occurred.
In the clothes-ripping ohmygod action that followed. They may have, along with
my sanity and common sense, deserted me, leaving me with bruised lips, ripped
panties, and multiple orgasms.
------
This set will only be available for a limited time, so get
it before it disappears.
------
RAFFLECOPTER CODE #1
(2) $50 and (2) $10 Gift Cards
RAFFLECOPTER CODE #2 (1) Kindle Cover (1) Nook Cover Signed by all BEND Authors
BOOK LINKS
AMAZON
http://www.amazon.com/Bend-K-Bromberg-ebook/dp/B00J34OVRM
KOBO
http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/bend-5
iTUNES
http://www.amazon.com/Bend-K-Bromberg-ebook/dp/B00J34OVRM
KOBO
http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/bend-5
iTUNES
AUTHOR INFORMATION
Collective biography
The Erotica Consortium was the brain child of CD Reiss. In
December 2013 she asked JA Huss to help her pull together the hottest erotica
writers to start a private Facebook group that would encourage support in all
areas of bookish things. Members of The Erotica Consortium were personally
invited by JA and CD and the group is complete with six additional authors:
Shay Savage, Andrea Smith, KI Lynn, K Bromberg, Ella James, and Alessandra
Torre. BEND is their first anthology together.
SHAY SAVAGE INFORMATION
TWITTER: @savage7289
Worth Excerpt:
Aia squeezed my hand gently before
releasing it and moving back to her bench. She reached for a cloth and dipped
it in a bowl of water and then ran the cool cloth over my forehead and down the
side of my face. She continued, apparently determined to wash whatever remained
of the blood of battle away from my flesh.
I closed my eyes and evened out my
breaths as her ministrations lulled me. My shoulders still ached from the
constant position against the bed, but I tried not to think of the discomfort.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Aia looking down my body and couldn’t help but
respond with a smile.
“Do you still think of it?”
Aia looked back at me.
“Of what, Faustus?”
“My cock pressed against your belly.”
She looked away, but I could still make
out the crimson shade of her cheeks and neck in the glow of the candles on the
table. I wanted to reach out and grab her hand again, but she was too far away.
“I’m still in need of distraction,” I
reminded her.
“I think you need sleep,” Aia rebutted.
Her lips pressed together, and I was sure she wanted to comment further, but
chose not to do so. I found my eyes drawn to the front of her dress as she
leaned over me, partially exposing one of her breasts.
Despite the discomfort, my cock took
notice.
“Distract me,” I commanded again.
“I think you know everything about my
life now, Faustus.”
“Then distract me another way,” I
suggested. I kept my eyes on her, and when she looked to me, I raised an
eyebrow and smiled suggestively.
Aia turned to drop the cloth in the
bowl, and I watched her eyes as she looked down my body. From my supine
position, the state of my cock was becoming noticeable. Her blush returned, and
she looked back to the bowl again. Her hand trembled slightly as she wrung out
the cloth and hung it beside the table.
Reaching out, I took her wrist and
guided her hand to the hard length of my cock.
“How long will it be,” I asked with
lowered voice, “until I can fill you with this?”
Interview with Shay
Savage:
When did you start
writing?
I’ve always had stories in my head begging to be released. I
first published in December of 2012 when I released Otherwise Alone, the first
book in the Evan Arden trilogy.
What were you very
first stories about?
The first real novel I wrote was fantasy/erotica. It was
violent and dark. I set if off to the side for a year or so after writing it,
and when I went back to read it again, I decided it was crap. It’s never seen
the light of day. I continued along the erotica path, but focused more on the
psychological and crime. I do play a fantasy based erotica story for 2015.
Have you always
written male POV?
Not always, but as I delved more into first person
perspective, that’s where my focus has been. Many people have asked if I really
am a woman (yes, I am – ha!), but my interests lie in more male-dominated
activities and most of my friends are men. I think I have a pretty good
understanding of how they think.
How do you choose
your character's names?
Usually from friends (with their permission) or soccer
players. Many times I’ll check out those “behind the name” websites to choose
last names for characters. I like finding a name that fits a major personality
trait of my characters. Example: Sebastian Stark. Sebastian is from the Bayern
Munich/German national team player Sebastian Schwansteiger, and Stark means
“strength”.
How do you write your
stories? Chronological order, sections?
I vary a lot on this. Usually I start a story with a scene
that comes into my head. That scene could be anywhere in the story, from the
very beginning to the climax. I’ll build around that scene. For the most part I
write from the beginning to the end, but I will jump around a lot as well. I
always write the smut scenes from the orgasm backward. I don’t know why, it
just works better for me that way.
Did you always plan
on self-publishing?
I debated for quite a while, but my need for control has led
me down the indie path. I like how quickly I can go from finishing the writing
to actually having the book available for people to read. It works for me. I’m
still trying to get the hang of the business side of it, but I’m making
progress with a lot of help from other authors and friends.
Was it a hard
decision to quit working to become a full time writer?
It really was. I toyed with the idea when I changed jobs in
early 2012, but decided to stick with the day job. At that point, I hadn’t
published anything though I planned to do so. I worked as a manager in the IT
field and made good money, so going into the unknown was pretty frightening.
For better or worse, conditions at my workplace combined with the success of
Surviving Raine gave me the kick in the ass I needed to give it a shot. I’m
really glad I did!
Many people consider
Surviving Raine and Transcendence two great romance stories. Do you consider
yourself a romance writer?
Obviously romance plays a key role in what I write, but to
me it’s a side note and not the main story. I like to understand people’s
behavior and what goes on in their heads to make them do the things they do.
After college, I worked with a lot of kids from terrible backgrounds, and I’ve
always been fascinated with the reasons a bully becomes a bully (or an
alcoholic, or a hit man). I like to think of my stories as psychological
studies first, full of intense action-based plots second, and erotic/romantic
in nature is third.
What is your favorite
genre to read?
I read a lot of fantasy books, some sci-fi, and a decent
amount of erotica. I always look for stories that are going to keep me guessing
and not follow a formula. The writing has to be really good to hold my interest.
I’m surprised at how much out there doesn’t follow some of the basics of
fiction writing, and I shy away from anything that hasn’t been properly edited.
I see this just as much in traditionally published fiction as I do with indie
authors.
Do your parents or
children read your stories?
My parents have read many of them, though I don’t think they
have read all. They’re very supportive and proud of me. They’ve given a lot of
my books to my grade school teachers (my parents both taught in my elementary school),
which is a little bizarre for me, so I don’t think about it too much. My
daughter is a voracious reader, but too young to delve into what I write at
this point, and my college-age son pretends I don’t write this stuff. Ha! His
girlfriend and many of her friends have read them though.
How did you meet The
Savage Trainer?
When I first started Legion Training and began to work out
regularly, my gym just didn’t cut it anymore. I signed up for a new gym and was
given a freebie training session with one of their trainers. I was paired with
TST. He looked so much like the image of Evan Arden I’d had in my head for
months that I was kind of floored the moment I first looked at him. I’m
surprised I managed to speak coherently (maybe I didn’t – you’ll have to ask
him). I was also impressed by how great a trainer he is, which was obvious even
though I had to keep wiping drool off my chin between sets.
Did you approach him
about being your muse right away, or did you have to warm up to it?
I’m a pretty straightforward person. I asked him right away,
and he’s been a fabulous asset ever since then. He’s a gorgeous model,
dedicated trainer, and a wonderful friend. I’ve learned a lot from him, and we
work together very well both in the gym and when it comes to my work.
JA HUSS INFORMATION
TWITTER: @jahuss
COME EXCERPT
“You said, ‘You don’t want to know me…
I’m no one.”’ He turns to face me head-on now, his expression blank, his mouth
a flat line. His eyes impassive and empty. I can see it now. This is a killer’s face. The dimples are
hiding underneath the frown. The emotionless facade of a hardened assassin. A
man who sees death as nothing personal, just a job to be completed.
“But you’re wrong, Harp. I’m the invisible one. You’re a beacon
in the dark as far as I’m concerned. I’m the unknowable one. And if you were my
contract, I would kill you.” He stares down at me with those impassive, cold,
businesslike green eyes. “Just as sure as I did my brother. Because that’s what
I do. That’s who I am. You might have all the moves, but you have none of the
venom, angelfish.”
He turns to walk away but I grab him
again. “You wouldn’t kill me—”
His hands grab me by the waist and yank
me to his chest. “You think you want me? You think you want to know more?” He
leans down and breathes into my neck for a moment. “Would you like me to take
you, Harper?”
Tingles erupt throughout my whole body
and the throbbing between my legs is begging for more contact. More skin on
skin. More conversation, more soft, whispered words. More of everything. I want
more of everything.
“Because I will. I’m that kind of guy.
The kind who’ll seduce a little girl and fuck her wild just because he can make
her think she wants him so bad, she’ll spread her legs and do as she’s told.”
“I’m almost nineteen. I can handle more
than you think.”
He laughs. “A baby who has no idea what
to do with a cock in her mouth.”
I’m ashamed to admit it, but instead of
embarrassing me, his words hurt.
“I’m not interested in the babies,
Harper. I just take what I want. And you were right to demand to know me before
you let me fuck you. Because you reminded me of what I am. Why I’m here.” He yanks his arm from my grip and turns
again.
My leg reaches forward and tangles with
his, making him stumble, and then I grab his arm and twist. He reacts faster
than I can plan the next move, and two seconds later he’s got me pinned to the
concrete. Straddling my waist, hands holding me down, hunched over and leaning
into my face. “You want me to stay?”
I can’t answer because I’m not sure.
He rises up on his knees a little bit,
and then his hands release mine and begin to unbuckle his belt.
I lie absolutely still.
Once the buckle is out of the way, he
makes quick work of the button, then the zipper on his pants.
I swallow hard.
“You will take my cock in your mouth.”
JA Huss' Top Five
Movies
Tombstone
The Last Samurai
The Fifth Element
Oh Brother, Where Art thou
Blade Runner
JA Huss' top Five
Books
Daughter of Smoke and Bone series by Laini Taylor
The Sea of Tranquility by Katja Millay
The Edge of Never by JA Redmerski
Takeshi Kovacs Series by Richard K Morgan
Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi
JA Huss' Top Five
Dream Vacation Spots
Fiji - I just might move here. :)
Any place in Japan, but preferably the entire collection of
islands. I’d like to spend a year there.
A summer in Antarctica because it scares the shit out of me.
A cruise around Alaska.
The Golden Coast of Australia.
CD REISS INFORMATION
TWITTER: @CDReisswriter
KICK EXCERPT
The club is thick with humanity. The
dance floor stinks. The voices are like a bag of broken glass. The music is a
throbbing heartbeat. And the man is gone.
I put my hands on bare, sweaty skin,
pushing through. Amanda finds me, blonde hair stuck to her forehead, lipstick
fading, her bodyguard, Joel, two steps behind in dark glasses and firearm. She
kisses me on the lips. I push her away.
“You see a guy in a suit? Tall? Hair
like this?” I make a motion with my fingers.
“Hot?”
“Hot.”
She points to the exit with a wink. I
smack a kiss on her lips, and continue pushing through.
She calls my name as I walk away, but I
pretend I don’t hear her. I have a man to find.
Nothing like coke to make the
impossible seem within reach, or to make it within your rights to shove, tread
upon, growl and curse to get through a crowd just to get a look at some hot
stranger. Nothing like that expansion of the ego to make it okay to push some
squealing teeny bopper out of your way when she screams “Fiona Drazen! You’re
Fiona Drazen!” in your fucking face as if your name alone is front page fucking
news.
Of course, they wait outside in a
cluster, pressing against the red velvet ropes. Paparazzi don’t care about the
weather, which is rainy and cold for Los Angeles. Lights flash. They call out
my name as if I even answer to it any more. Let them get their pictures. I have
him in my sights.
He hands the valet a tip and takes the
keys to a black Range Rover.
He is a thoroughbred, and there are
twenty assholes with cameras between him and me, which is too bad, because I
have to have him.
I put my knuckles out to them, both
middle fingers extended for all it’s worth. I have rings on top of rings, and I
know the lights are going to glint on them like hell in the pictures. I’m going
to look like a flashy rich bitch and the coke tells me I don’t give a fucking
shit what Daddy thinks.
I turn to the doorman, skinny ex-cop
with a pencil moustache. He looks at my chest, then at my face. I know Irv.
He’s a hustler. He keeps these assholes off us when we’re around, but he takes
cash to let them know when Amanda and I show up.
“Irv! What the fuck?”
“I got it,” he says.
“Outta my way cocksuckers!” I shout,
plowing through, with Irv’s help. They back off for him in a way they’d never
do for me. I know they’d chew me up, spit me out, and photograph me crawling to
the hospital.
I get to the Range Rover and pound on
the passenger side window. It’s tinted. The car doesn’t move and the window
stays up. Do I have the right one?
“Fiona Drazen!”
They’re behind me, and I’m on the curb,
in the drizzle, out of Irv’s field of influence. If he comes to get me, he’s
leaving the door, and that’s not cool.
I pound on the window again. Bursts of
light flash on it.
I’m about to get mobbed.
“Hey, asshole,” I shout.
The window rolls down so slowly I feel
as if I’m in a movie about falling.
And there he is. My heart jumps out of
my chest.
“Hi,” I say, sticking me head in. I can
feel them behind me. I can hear them calling my name, over and over. “You took
something of mine outta the bathroom.”
“Really?” He’s older than I thought,
and this makes him more attractive then humanly possible. “What?”
“My heart.” It’s a stupid come on, but
I’m a girl. I can get away with it.
“Ah. I thought maybe your shirt
buttons.” For the first time, he glances at my chest, and I feel that my
breasts are chilled.
My shirt is wide open. Fucking Earl
with his octopus hands.
“Don’t make me turn around,” I say.
“They already got enough pictures.”
He takes a second to think about it,
looking me straight in the face. A little smirk plays on the perfect line of
his lips and I think I just might die.
ANDREA SMITH
INFORMATION
TWITTER: @maybebabyauthor
THESE MEN EXCERPT
He interrupted, pulling me closer to
him on the bed. "Baby," he said softly. "It's because I see that
chemistry going back and forth between you and Maddox…and, I guess I'm just not
sure if there's enough of that same chemistry—in you—left over for me. Because
I know that there's plenty in me left for you—if you want it, I mean."
And I think he might've just blushed
right then, like a guy that was wearing his heart on his sleeve—just putting it
right out there and so worried that it might not be enough.
But it was enough.
It was more than enough.
"Oh Eli," I sighed, "I
can't believe you've told me all of this, but I am so fucking glad that you
have."
Our eyes met and locked. In that
moment, everything that Cain Maddox had assured me of since we'd given in to
our feelings was coming true.
I leaned over and brushed my lips
softly against his, waiting for him to snake his arms around me and pull me
against to him.
I didn't wait long until that was
exactly what he did.
We kissed and it was unfamiliar, but it
was sweet. And every second, it became sweeter. I felt myself warm to his
touch; my belly tingled with anticipation of where he might touch me next and I
wanted him to touch me in different places.
He turned and pulled me into his lap,
his fingers tilted my chin back so that his eyes could study mine and I saw the
warmth fill them.
"God, baby. We're going to do
this."
He lifted me up into his strong arms,
carried me to their room, and gently deposited me on their bed. The same bed
that I had shared with Cain, I was now going to share with Eli and I wanted it.
I wanted it more than I thought I ever could.
"Get undressed," he ordered,
"We'll do the sensual shit another time, but for right this second, I need
to be inside of you and claim you as mine, too."
God, his words made me wet and yeah,
that surprised the hell out of me as well. I scrambled to do as he ordered,
shedding my clothes quickly; leaving my thong on so that he would be the one to
relieve me of it when it was time…
He was standing there naked and he was
every bit as beautiful as Cain. His body was well-muscled and his belly flat.
He had a lighter complexion than Cain, but God he was beautiful in a
"golden-boy" sort of way. I felt myself getting wet just in
anticipation of what would happen next.
He opened the bedside table drawer, and
pulled out a handful of condoms.
Holy
shit.
He pushed me back against the pillows
on the bed, his eyes taking in all of my nakedness with a hunger. He straddled
me with his strong, muscular thighs, leaning forward to capture my lips with
his.
I laced my arms around his strong neck,
pulling him in closer. I felt his fingertips lightly caressing my breasts,
slowly and methodically tugging at my nipples until they grew hard for him. He
moved his mouth to one, his tongue circling the soft peaks, and his fingers
gently kneading my breast so that he could begin suckling.
I drew in a sharp breath as he took the
nipple into his mouth and sucked hard on it, my pussy now fairly soaked in
anticipation. I needed him inside of me every bit as much as he wanted to be
there.
THESE MEN PLAYLIST
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
Cyndi Lauper
Sexual Thing
Poison
My Prerogative
Bobby Brown
I Want Your Sex
George Michaels
Losing My Religion
R.E.M.
Waiting On The World to Change
John Mayer
Something to Talk About
Bonnie Raitt
Who Says You Can't Go Home
Bon Jovi
All Through The Night
Cyndi Lauper
Dreams
The Cranberries
We Belong
Pat Benatar
I'll Stand By You
Pretenders
ALESSANDRA TORRE
INFORMATION
TWITTER: @ReadAlessandra
Still Excerpt:
Midnight.
Thirteen hours left in paradise, then our hungover selves will be strapped in
and flying back to ATL. I hang an arm around twin necks, inhaling the scent of
hairspray and feminine energy, leaning my head back, weight on their
shoulders,and bellow the chorus of Sweet
HomeAlabama, the club singing along, my mouth breaking into a grin too big
too contain, the familiar tune never failing to raise my spirits. Never mind
that,between the six of us, we’ve set foot on Alabama soil less than ten times.
It is the anthem of the South, and seeing as it took Jena flashing the Bahamian
DJ her breasts to get it played, we own every syllable of the damn thing.
The last chorus rings out, and I
release the girls, spinning on the floor, my arms up, getting bumped by sweaty
bodies, the dance floor getting tighter by the moment. A heavy bass begins, drowning
out the country chorus and starting back into the hip-hop that had been
dominating the speakers all night.
I slow my hips, glance at our table,
seeing Beth and Tammy there,the rest of us sprinkled between the dance floor
and the ladies room. I am pushed forward, hands settling on my waist as a
stranger tries to pull me into his crotch-thrusting imitation of a dance. I
yank at his wrists, shooting an annoyed look over my shoulder, and move to our
table, snagging my purse off its surface and moving toward the neon lit exit
sign. Air. I need air. Air and a moment to regroup, focus. Come to terms with
the fact that none of the men in this club will be taking care of my needs
tonight. None of them seem worthy of a drink. Too young. Too immature. Too
available. Too … not who I am looking for.
I bang through the exit door, the rush
of cool night kissing my skin. I take two steps to the right and lean against
the brick exterior wall, legs out, head flat against red brick. God yes. I
almost wish I still smoke. I remember the escapes from life that it provided,
the moment to take a pause from the world and do nothing but relax. Now, I
don’t need the nicotine—just the combination of air and quiet are enough to
ease my tension and take me one step closer to
I-Can’t-Even-Remember-His-Name-Ville.
I sense the presence before I see it.
In the shadows to my right. I stiffen, lowering my chin and staring,
confronting whoever it is with my gaze. Then he speaks, and I relax, need and
heat and want flooding my body with just the scrape of my name. In that one
word, that one growl, every lieI’ve told myself is exposed. I need him. My body
needs him. Wants more. I had behaved in the hallway of the 8th floor. I had
made a mistake. I don’t intend to make another.
“Come here.”
He stalks forward, in a suit, his hands
leaving his pockets as he walks, his head level, stare direct, and eats me with
his eyes as he moves without hesitation, not pausing until he is suddenly
against me, his hand firm, gripping the side of my face, his mouth taking mine
in a possessive kiss that has me back against the wall, his palm against my
skin almost hurting me in its need. I gasp for breath when I can grab it, his
kiss desperate, dipping,pulling me tighter. I love it.
“I need you,” he grunts, his free hand
sliding up my thigh,pushing my dress inappropriately high, his fingers
gripping, squeezing, the heat of his palm sliding over my skin like he owns it,
his large hand ending on my ass, and he feels every inch of it as if he is
memorizing, worshiping,taking it in his mind as his own.
“Yes,” I gasp, lifting my leg and
hooking it around him, the shift in my body opening the place between my legs,
his fingers finding and running reverently over the line of silk that keeps me
tied to the edge of sanity.
The door next to me opens, shielding us
for a moment, and I freeze behind it, my body tensing. His hand drops from my
face, wrapping around my body, the other hand returning to my ass, both of them
working in concert and lifting, carrying me into the dark shadows where he had
just stood, a new wall replacing the brick, this one rough stucco, and I feel
lines of it dig into my sunburned skin as sets me down, his mouth taking a
break from the kiss and moving to my neck, the rough journey letting me know
the level of his need.
Further proof is against me, his pelvis
pressed tighter than possible against my own, the hard ridge of it against my
sex making my breath hitch with every twitch of him along me. God, I want this
man. Am made weak from his touch yet have never felt this aggressive.
Feather soft brushes against silk.
Teasing. Torturing. His hand keeping my leg in place, though there is no way
I’m moving it. Not when it opens me up to him. Not when it keeps that iron
against the place where I want it most. My panties are so wet it is embarrassing.
I pant against the night air, struggling for silence, the murmurs of the couple
who have stepped outside breaking the silence of the night, the orange embers
of their smokes reminding me of their presence, their attention on each other,
a giggle escaping from their conversation and sending a moment of intelligent
thought to my head. Am I really being humped in the shadows against the side of
a building? Is this beautiful man really running the pad of his fingers back
and forth, lower and higher, finding the—oh my god. My head drops back, and I
can’t stop the moan that escapes me when my silk-covered clit is brushed by his
fingers.
Jesus.
It’s not a curse. It is a thankful message sent upward. I have been lost and
now, in that light brush against my most sensitive place, I am found.
He chuckles against my neck, his
fingers moving back an inch or two, until they are back at my soaked opening,
pushing on the indent there,the silk moving far enough inside for me to feel
the brush of skin on skin, andI just about lift off the ground in my need for
more.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp.
“Honey, I’m not going stop until you
fall apart in my hands.I need that. I’m not releasing you until it happens.”
TOP 10 TV SHOWS THAT
DOMINATE ALESSANDRA'S TV:
1. Vikings (I'll take a threesome with the two brothers
ANYTIME)
2. Black Sails (almost makes me want to be a wench)
3. The Good Wife
4. Scandal
5. NCIS: Los Angeles (LOVE me some LL)
6. Family Guy (Stewie just said that!)
7. Spongebob (I'd blame it on the 11 year old but... we love
SB)
8. Seinfeld
9. Tosh.O
10. Nashville
K BROMBERG
INFORMATION
TWITTER: @KBrombergDriven
UnRaveled Excerpt:
My body begins to writhe, its need to
sate the burning ache a sharp contrast to the warring emotions in my psyche. My
only focus is on the slow slide in of his fingers and the pressure and friction
against nerves unexpectedly reawakened. The tortuous withdrawal of leather not
wet enough tugging softly on the most tender of flesh, causing a different but
equally arousing sensation.
I try to fight it.
At least I tell myself I do.
I try to understand how this is
possible. How an orgasm can rip me apart right now—again—when fear still holds
my breath captive.
I
should have never accepted the drink, never looked up to acknowledge him with a
subtle nod of my head.
My body vibrates as the swell of
white-hot heat sears through me, taking nerve endings hostage and overwhelming
all thoughts.
I
shouldn’t have looked up—no—so the question is, why am I glad that I did?
ELLA JAMES
INFORMATION
TWITTER: @author_ellaj
Red &Wolfe
Excerpt:
I refresh my red lipstick about twelve
times before leaving the shrimp shack, then point my Camry toward the water.
The clouds are darker now, hanging low
over the harbor. Gulls crisscross the sky, moving frenziedly. I follow the
instructions of my GPS and pull into a parking lot that reaches to the water’s
edge, where there’s a long, wooden dock lined with boat slips.
I shoot off an e-mail. “I’m here.” Then
I grab my duffel bag, lean against my hood, and wait.
What will Gertrude look like? I watch
the boats docked, serviced by fluttering figures, heads bowed against a muggy
but swift breeze, and I wonder which of the boats could be hers.
My phone vibrates. “Walk closer to the
dock. The boat name is ‘Fog.’” My heart hammers. My mouth feels dry. I tuck my
hair behind my ears, adjust the bag on my shoulder, and start walking. I walk
along the long plank of the dock, passing boats—“Double Trouble,” “Choppy
Cass,” “Stupid Does.” The wind blows my hair across my cheeks. A few strands
stick to my lips. I’m pushing at them with my fingertips, looking down a few
slots, watching for a woman with gray hair and my mother’s mouth. I’m walking
slowly I see him: a tall man with broad shoulders, a short beard, and piercing
black-brown eyes. He’s wearing a pair of slacks and a white shirt with the
sleeves rolled up, so I can see his muscled forearms. His face is partially
shaded by a baseball cap. And even so, I know he’s here for me.
Before his eyes even meet mine, my body
flares like a lit match. He takes a few strides toward me, and his gaze touches
my face. The heat fades from my cheeks, replaced by bloodless cold.
“You’re Red,” a low voice says.
“You’re not my grandmother.”
KI LYNN INFORMATION
TWITTER: @KI_Lynn_
The Devil in Me
Excerpt:
The nerves on my neck lit up, tingling
down my side. It woke me from my trance, and I turned to find innocent eyes
looking at me from one row up on the other side of the aisle. When our gazes
connected, she didn’t flinch, her eyes didn’t widen, but a slight blush did
appear on her cheeks.
The strange current continued to move
through me.
I was caught, roped in, staring at her.
She seemed young—early twenties maybe.
I went from studying Jesus to studying the woman who called to me. That was the
only way I could explain the firing off of every nerve ending in my body.
She had large, blue doe eyes that bored
into my soul. Dark brown, wavy hair curled around her smooth, pale skin and
full cheeks. She nabbed her full bottom lip with her teeth before looking away,
hiding from me.
It didn’t stop me from staring at her.
I tilted my head to the side, forehead scrunched as I tried to figure out what
the hell had just happened—and why my cock was so hard. It was just a look, but
at the same time, it felt like so much more. A connection, and not that
love-at-first-sight bullshit.
Base level between a man and a woman—a
need that populated the earth.
Our strange interaction caused images
of fucking her on the altar to course through my mind. Was she as untouched as
her innocent face suggested? She looked soft, inviting, and corruptible. How
would her full hips feel beneath my hands as I thrust my cock into her?
I turned back to the front and began to
ask for forgiveness for the things I was thinking about doing to her. My dick,
however, continued to dream. A small groan slipped from my lips, and her head
snapped up. I cupped my cock through my jeans, adjusting it so it didn’t press
so hard against the seam. It twitched against my palm as she squirmed in her
seat.
Fuck.
I sat still, staring at her profile.
Her lips parted, skin pink, and she moved her ass again. I blew out a breath to
calm myself. It was ridiculous. I was just horny because I hadn’t had sex since
Monica gave me a break-up fuck three months prior.
After a few minutes, she stood and
headed to the confessional. I couldn’t help but turn to look at her delectable
ass as she walked. Soft curves called to me, begging me to touch them, own
them.
As soon as she stepped out of sight, I
ran down the steps to the restroom and locked myself in. I splashed some water
on my face, staring at the image in front of me. Someone else stared back. My
brown eyes were almost black, lids heavy with a force of lust I’d never
experienced.
My teeth clenched, muscles coiled tight
as my hips rocked, searching for her. I grabbed hold of the sink, my breath
heavy and hard.
What is wrong with me?
It was overpowering. An internal battle
for control waged as consuming need pumped through my veins. I popped open my
jeans and pulled my cock out. It didn’t matter that I stood in the bathroom of
a church—I had to get off before I went insane.
The Devil in Me
Soundtrack
Obsession by Animoto
Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge
Fight Inside by Red
My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark by Fall Out Boy
Monster by Imagine Dragons
Monster by Lady Gaga
Monster by Skillet
Seven Devils by Florence and the Machine
Bitch Came Back by Theory of a Deadman
Killin’ It by Krewella
Dark Horse by Katy Perry
Closer by Nine Inch Nails
Timber by Pitbull
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