Dirty Little Serials: Ian & Dreena

Ian’s hands sifted through Dreena’s hair, turning her towards him and examining the bump on her head. She’d whacked the door pretty hard. Sparks shot down the nerves in his arms. Dark blue eyes blinked up at him as his thumb smoothed over the tender rise in her scalp.

No blood or bruising.

His fingers shifted behind her ear, tilting her head up as she glared at him. This mer disliked her attraction to him as much as she felt it. And he felt it, too.

Ian pressed his mouth against hers to be rewarded by a bubbling noise in the back of her throat before Dreena grabbed the front of his shirt and opened to him. She didn’t seem at all uncertain of him like this. When they spoke, they had issues.

She unbuttoned his collar and slid into his lap. The familiar warmth of her didn’t mask how different she tasted, like salt-water taffy, creamy and sweet.

“I don’t plan on following in my brother’s footsteps. I’m not going to mate you.” He said against her lips before he nuzzled her. Ian grabbed her hips; he’d never fucked a mer before. “If we fuck, that’s all it’ll be.”

Dreena ground herself against him. “Am not virgin.”

To accentuate her point, she rolled over him and nipped the corner of his lip. Oh, he’d have fun with her.

Her elegant fingers tugged the front of his shirt free of his slacks and belt, burning him with her touch. She bled electricity into him.

His hands responded in kind, finding their way beneath her dress to rub the fabric tucked between her thighs. Her panties barely held the heat of her at bay. Ian’s cock jolted as Dreena grabbed him in return. He needed to fuck her, but this wasn’t the place.

The car slowed as they approached his brother’s house, and he tucked his shirt back in as she pouted. Gods, he wanted her mouth around him, wanted her mouth against him, wanted to cause her mouth to fall open as she orgasmed; he wanted her.

“Not here,” he said as he opened the door for her and lifted her off his lap. The single item they’d gone for hung from his finger as he escorted Dreena back inside, up the stairs, and past the females waiting for her. Instead, he left the small, paper bag on the doorknob, knocked, and ushered Dreena inside the small study at the end of the hall.

Trapping her against the door, his body met hers, and she pulled at his clothes, undressing him with such precision.

“You certainly have done this before.”

Her nails retorted as they sank into his back. Ian kissed her to keep his mouth from messing this up. And his slacks fell around his ankles as he reached to lift her against him.

Thighs burnt around his waist, trapping his cock against that small slice of cotton.

He wanted to tear them off.

Instead, he laid her on a settee and yanked them down her legs. The scent of her arousal assailed him. Cock nestled against her, his hips pumped, teasing gasps free with smell of her.

She was intoxicating.

Coating himself in her juices, Ian thrust himself to the hilt and swallowed her moan. Teeth and lips found her throat to release her next moan into the room—quick but soft and more than enough to tighten the skin down his spine.

Then Dreena’s legs lifted higher on his back, and he scooped her knees with his arms, pulling her taut around him. He buried himself into her, keeping his mouth busy to refrain from telling her all of the dirty things he wanted: that her pussy was magnificent, to promise her the same pain her nails drove into him, that he’d fucking ruin her. And he wanted to; everything inside him craved it.

Dreena’s fingers squeezed the back of Ian’s neck, nails slicing into an ear lobe.

Hips jackhammered and pulled a soft cry from her.

He couldn’t break her yet.

No, he wanted her again first. For the night.

He’d fulfill every dirty fantasy she was too afraid to admit she had.

The beast inside him roared as Ian sank his teeth into her throat, barely keeping himself from drawing blood.

But oh, the way she jerked under him, around him.

Ian rode her to orgasm, fighting through the way she squeezed.

A small increment of control vanished, and he took what he needed, hips smacking the flood of moisture between her thighs.

Drowning in the sweet and salty scent of her, he pulled sweet tears from Dreena as her pleasure wavered on pain.

She’d learn quick not to fight it.

With an uneven beat, he filled her, hips driving to push his seed as deeply inside of her as his cock would allow and nudging the end of her until she mewled for him.

The shake of her limbs electrified him, confirming how later that night, he’d show her what it meant to be a little slut.

Dirty Little Sneak Peek: Between There, Vol. 2

Sneak Peek of new published story, “A Love for the Marquis de Sade,” in Between There, Vol. 2, edited by Anthony S Buoni. Check out the full volume here!

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Villa suppressed the hot shiver his voice caused.  The way this man looked at her, almost into her, and drew goose bumps to sprout along her arms and the back of her neck as a heat ignited in her core.  She straightened her spine.  “I am fine, I was just browsing, Monsieur…”

“Gillette, Madame Flores. I apologize. I have not received a tag.”  He tapped his chest where the other library workers pinned their golden nameplates.

Villa clenched her jaw to keep her mouth from falling open.  She was somehow pleased that he knew her name.  “And how do you know me?”

“Why the registry, of course.  You are required to sign in when you enter the lower levels because of the delicacy of the items we have stored here.”  Gillette gestured to the books she had been perusing that were now at her back.  “Please, let me assist you.  You have been here three days, searching endlessly.  There must be something I can find for you.”

Warmth bloomed along Villa’s cheeks, and she lowered her eyes.  Had he been watching her?  Could she tell Gillette what she searched for?  Villa wanted to be the first to discover it, but she hadn’t gotten very far on her own.  And then, what would this man may think of her should he know what it was she actually searched for? Should she concern herself with his judgment of her? No, she’d heard every name and perversion other scholars could think to throw at her: sinner, diabolical, literary wretch…  Some of her colleagues had gotten fairly creative, but Villa had taken them, filed them away, and locked the drawer.

What exactly concerned her?  That this man she didn’t know may think she was easy, perverted?  That she sacrificed babes in the name of great and demonic sex?  She’s never tried any of these things she’d read in his texts, too scared to free herself that way with someone else.  Although, she has been prone to be adventurous since her fiancé left her because he’d been jealous of her attentions to the Marquis de Sade.  He hadn’t fulfilled her, and neither of them could change that.  Besides, she hadn’t wanted to dominate him any longer; as little as he had allowed her…

Gillette politely cleared his throat, causing Villa to jerk back to reality.  How long had he been waiting for her to answer?

Guest Blog! Ray Sostre’s New Release: Her Angela & Protection: In The Beginning

Her Angela & Protection Series Blog Tour

Hi Autumn, thank you for having me be your guest blog. I’m Ray Sostre, an erotic romance writer of both m/f, f/f, and ménage; mostly f/f/m, and I’m also the founder of a story submission site called AfterDark Online. Today I’m blogging about this book, which is my first lesbian erotic romance called “Her Angela & Protection: In The Beginning.”

When I first wrote the story, it was written in June 2012 for an anthology series I was hoping for  a different publisher; however, it fell through, so I went with another publisher – No Boundaries Press, and then I decided to make it a series after a couple of months debating. When I wrote the story, it only took me two days to complete it, since it was for an anthology call to another publisher. The story was short and sweet; I was amazed at the accomplishments to the story, and I truly enjoyed writing about two opposite characters – Angela & Vivienne.

One of the toughest aspects upon writing the story was that I’m a male author who can’t think like a woman, but I didn’t want to be perceived as a male author who wrote about how two women meet and decide to hook up for the night, which I know very well the law doesn’t work that way. I wanted to write some comedy in the mix, dramatic scenes, and of course sex that’s somewhat realistic. But one character I enjoyed writing about was Angela Critelli.

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When I created the character Angela Critelli, I didn’t know where I was going to go, but I knew that I wanted to create a character who was a woman, not a man-hater, but at the same time accepting her sexuality. She was dating a few men in her time, but never found them to be her type. She’d always been attracted to women, but she had a hard time accepting her attraction. And when I wrote the story, I wanted to create an odd couple living together. Vivienne getting kicked out of her home from her husband, while Angela lets her live with her. The attraction didn’t happened until their night out in the nightclub.

How I wanted to design the characters were the resemblance of a TV Show, respectively, Risolli & Isles. The only thing, I didn’t want to create a cop series, I wanted to create an erotic romance scene. The first book In The Beginning is mainly about how the two ended up being together in the relationship, but I now want to extend it to how the two ended up being happy, which is why I want to create a series. There is so much more to learn; so much more to explore between the characters Angela and Vivienne.

One of my favorite scenes that I wrote in the story was the masturbation scene. Angela, at first, didn’t want to admit her feelings for Vivienne, but it was almost hard for her to control her sexual desires for Vivienne. The best part of the story was when Angela was masturbating in her bedroom, she never expected Vivienne to barge in on her, especially when Angela climaxed. The thought popped into my head of what if I created a comical scene like that. There were, of course, some scenes I truly enjoyed, but I’ll need to expand the story more to help readers understand the characters.

If there was one thing readers didn’t know about the story, I had originally wrote it to 12k words, but dropped it to 10k, because of the requirements to the anthology call at the time. Had I known more where this story would go, I’d expanded it, but that’s why I want to create a series; I enjoyed writing about these two characters. And here’s the spoiler alert – they will end up being happy together, but how?

So to find out how the two ended up together, get your copy Her Angela & Protection: In The Beginning, available at No Boundaries PressAll Romance eBooksAmazon, and Barnes & Noble.

Come check out my favorite scene that I wrote below, because this is what made me want to finish the story.

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BLURB:

When Angela Critelli lets Vivienne Perkins move in to her place, she’d never expect the woman of her dreams. Vivienne’s a wonderful cook and home-maker, a perfect companion, and her best friend since high school; the only problem is her sexuality. Angela knew Vivienne was married to an ungrateful husband that never appreciated her, but she also discovered something questionable about her sexuality. Vivienne’s affection may be leading her on, but does she want to be with her?

EXCERPT:

Angela remained still on her bed as the sun beamed through the blinds of her bedroom, holding her thoughts close.

What’s wrong with me? My best friend. Vivienne. I want Vivienne. She let that sink in. She’s a good cook, she’s organized, and she’s single. Not to mention I’ve seen her naked, and dear God… what a body! She gives a great foot massage. She turns me on without even trying.

Angela was familiar with the deep ache that gathered in her core. She crossed her legs, which didn’t help. She felt weird at the thought of masturbating over Vivienne. Then again, when her hand grazed over her nipples, and she remembered Viv’s slick hands… she couldn’t help it. Imagining it was her best friend in the whole wide world, her hand brushed over her tummy and then farther down to her center.

Don’t do it, Angie… don’t — Oh fuck, that feels good! I only wish it was Vivi touching me this way, just like that. I could imagine her parting my legs as I feel her — Ah!

Angela was already rubbing herself. Her fingers encircled her nub, giving it a pinch and building her need. She closed her eyes and imagined Vivienne’s hands – soft… firm… slick… She pinched both of her nipples, imagining Viv’s manicured nails. She licked her lips, quietly moaning. Angela thrust her fingers deep inside her folds; she was ready for some satisfaction.

Then, she exchanged hands, placing one hand in her mouth tasting herself, while touching with the other. Mmm… I wish I was tasting Vivienne right now. My hands spreading apart her legs, my mouth tasting her juices… Mmm!

Angela continued to rub herself. Her moans grew, and her breath quickened as she squirmed in pleasure. She kept her eyes closed, while her head rolled back and forth. She reminded herself not to moan too loud, but she couldn’t help it with strong need rising inside her. She rubbed herself furiously as her fingers drew forth her hot juices. Angie clenched her breasts with her other hand, and her moans grew louder until her hips bucked as she climaxed.

Just as Angela’s body writhed into orgasm, there was a knock on the door. Oh fuck! No! Not now Vivienne!

“Angela?” she continued to knock.

Angela couldn’t control her orgasm. She had no choice but to let it out, just as Vivienne entered the bedroom, gasping at her.

“Oh, my gosh!”

Angela jumped in mid-orgasm, “Oh fuck Viv! Not now!” as she lost the moment.

Vivienne quickly slammed the door shut, but it was too late. She’d lost her moment, and Vivienne had seen her masturbating. How could she face Vivienne now? Now she wondered if Vivienne would look at her differently because she walked in on her – masturbating. She could stay in bed all day, since it was a Saturday, but she’d have to face Vivienne one way or another. She wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

“Angela?” Vivienne called from the other side of the door.

“Yes?” She replied, this time her tone was calm, with a touch of insecurity.

“I was thinking of making pancakes. Are you hungry?”

Dirty Little Goddess: A sneak peak at Tass and Dylan’s story

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Tass twirled around the white marbled floors of the ballroom where the masquerade ball for the local art and music foundation was being held.  Her blue silk dress spun out from her hip to flash a fair amount of leg, like she had practiced many times in front of her full length mirrors.  Her sapphire studded mask hid her face well enough, she was sure that no one would recognize her, should anyone be there that might know her true face.

She spun into a man by the banquet tables, brushing her hands over his chest with a smile and blowing him a kiss before dancing off into another, whom she blew a quick breath in his ear, and to another, whose lips tasted like the champagne.  She groped and teased woman as well without discrimination.  Tass was the goddess of pleasure and needed only flesh and good music to have a good time.

Having danced with near every patron in the place, Tass pranced into a man’s chest that she had not met before.  A chest that stood broad and tight, and higher than her own under a white dress-shirt. A curve of rich pink flashed a smile before her eyes, making her blink in surprise.  There had not been a single man all evening that had been taller than her.  She was six-two without the four inch spiked heels she wore.  The beat of his heart under her hand matched her own, and her body had become a statue modeled of feathers, loosely strung together with string.  Parts of her would soon tear away, and she couldn’t explain why.

His strong arm cinched around her waist, pulling her more firmly against the front of his body, stealing up her hand in his own and beginning to circle with her in an elegant dance.  She’d become a princess at the ball, never a dream of hers, but the heat of his body against hers told her that she was foolish for having never dreamed it.

But she quickly fastened the feathers of her body in more tightly and looked at the man’s face.  He wore a stark black mask, sharp and angled around his face, pierced by strands of blonde hair.  Startling crystal eyes peered down at her through the jagged holes in his mask.  He must be astonishingly beautiful under the mask, or astonishingly ugly.  There could not be an in-between for this man.

Tass allowed him to spin her across the dance floor, weaving a beautiful mosaic with her feet and hands.  He was a were, she was sure.  The masculine smell of him carried the distinct smell of wolf, of moss and musk and pheromones.  She teased him just the same.  Leaning in closer than necessary, brushing her lips against his without giving him the satisfaction of their embrace, even though she wanted to taste him.

His hand slid up her back, his other keeping her hand high so that her breasts were pressed against him.  As the song ended, he dipped her low, causing her leg to curve around his hip instinctively, and nipped the tops of both breasts with his teeth as he straightened her against him.  The wolf held her against his body, his hand on her knees to keep her leg around his arousal, even as she stood.  Her whole body flushed with heat as some clapped for the show he had used her to give them.  Tass looked up into those crystal eyes sternly, and he let her leg drop to the floor slowly.

As the audience turned from her and the wolf, Tass began to slip away as she was accustomed to doing, taking pleasure in only the play, the teasing, never staying to fulfill the promises she made, but he held her hand, preventing her from leaving.  Though she could easily get away, resorting to her powers here, where so many other magicks mingled, wasn’t her first option; she gave him her smile instead.

“Don’t run off on me, Voluptas.” His voice was soft and low and commanding, stopping her heart as her true name dripped from his mouth with such sweet desire.  He smiled at her, and she suddenly wished she had her mother’s power to read minds.  His hand reeled her in again. “Don’t leave until you have let me sip from that sweet mouth of yours at least once.”

Her insides clenched, knees nearly buckling, making her grip his shoulders from inexperience with the way her muscles clenched together, giving no more than an inch between her lips and his.  His smile widened, eyes heated and animalistic.

“Your name?” Her voice was softer than a whisper, although it rang through her head like a cannon.  Tass gulped, struggling for composure, trying to retie the feathers that were shaking loose.

“Dylan, my love.” His breath fell over her neck, making her knees lose the little self-control they had attempted to gain.  She peered around the ballroom.  Far too many gazes followed every inch of her as she reacted to him.

“The coat room.” Tass stepped away, willing her knees to not embarrass her. “Second floor.”

She grabbed the hand of the nearest lad, letting him twirl her around, stroking her fingers across his face and neck, but this boy’s presence didn’t shake her powers, only strengthened her as she moved to kiss a thin woman with a peacock headdress.  As she slid away from the woman, she looked back to the dance floor where Dylan still stood, watching her with his arms folded across his chest.  Dylan looked more like a god than a wolf.  Meeting him in the coat room wasn’t a good idea, but she would.  She was the goddess of pleasure and unwilling to give up such an opportunity.

Tass danced and teased her way to the full curving staircase, glancing again to where she had left Dylan, but the spot was empty, and her legs willed her to move faster.

He can wait for me. I am a goddess.

But she drew herself up the stairs with a sense of speed.

The coat room was mid-way down the long upper hall, which was empty except for two drunken patrons, groping each other playfully.  Her hand trembled at the double door, smelling the wolf and making her breath catch.  She swung the door open and slipped into the dark with unusual expectation.

The door clicked closed behind her, and bulky arms seized her immediately, pulling her against a broad chest and taut stomach.  Her body lifted from the ground and was pressed back against the wall with a pleasure she had only experienced second hand.  The warm brush of his mouth burned against her neck and shoulder, nipping at her flesh.

Yes. This is what she wanted—someone to tease her back, to make her want.

“I didn’t think you’d come.  I thought it was some goddess trick.” Dylan drove his hips against hers, his erection evident.

Tass gasped, tilting her head back, a wet heat gathering between her legs as he rubbed himself against her.

Dylan planted soft kisses up to her chin, grazing his teeth against her jaw.  He touched her with skill, and her legs tightened around him.

The door clicked and swung open, letting light flutter into the oversized closet.

Tass started, fear wiping away the pleasure of having the wolf against her.  She flashed herself home to not be caught, landing hard against her bedroom wall, still suspended in the air by the wolf’s body. How could she have brought him with her?  She’d never had a problem before.

She pushed at him with her palms.  “You can’t be here.”

Dylan paused and met her gaze before glancing around. “Why not?”

Aggravated, she pushed at him again. “Because this is my home.”

The wolf grinned, and her insides blazed again, stealing the breath from her.  He leaned his mouth down to hers, running the tip of his tongue over seam of her lips.  No one had ever dared touch her like this before—commanding and confident that she’d respond.

And she did, opening her mouth to him as her eyes flitted closed, trembling with the rest of her body.

As his warm mouth sipped from hers, he hiked her skirt up over her hips, pressing himself against her again.  Her bare skin responded instantly, swelling and expanding.  Moisture gathered as he pushed again, rubbing the rough fabric against her core and making her moan into his mouth.

Dylan’s tongue swirled around hers in a primal dance.  Tass’s head spun.  She had never experienced such a kiss before, nothing that could compare to the heat raging through her body with the swish of his tongue and the push of his hips.

His panting mouth dropped from hers, skipping down her shoulder and collarbone.  His deft fingers tugging at the straps of her dress so that it seems her dress falls below her breasts by accident, coincidence.

A growl vibrated down her chest bone as his kisses fell down her body.  His large hand cupped her left breast as he shifted his hips to drive against her at a new angle, hefting her knees higher on his waist.  The near painful pleasure arched Tass’s back as a moan filled her room—choked into oblivion as Dylan’s mouth enveloped her right nipple.  He tugged it between his teeth, flicking his tongue over it relentlessly until the pleasure of it had her hands sunk into his hair and her head falling back and forth.

Her core tightened against his thrusts, her nerves so swollen they could burst.  Hiccups of pleasure erupted from her as he rolled her nipple against the roof of his mouth.

Tass’s whole body clamped down and exploded simultaneously, flashing a bright white behind her lids.  She gasped and her body bucked forward against Dylan’s.

Her vision returned quickly, but the room is dark again, damp and moldy.  She flashed away from the wolf, covering herself as she stood behind him.  He whirled on her, gaze filled with satisfaction and need.

His hand grazed the fabric covering his erection, obviously wet even in the dark, and brought two fingers to his mouth, licking them as he watched her.

Her entire body shuddered, and she flashed away again.

Back in her room, Tass leaned back against the edge of her bed, willing her legs to stop shaking.  She dried the wetness sliding between her legs with a burst of power and gripped her sheet.  Was that…? Was that what all the fuss was about?  Was that what an orgasm was supposed to feel like?