Today's snog is part of Victoria's latest fun event, the Blisse Kiss After Dark. There are two constraints in this celebration - the kiss has to take place in the dark, and every author has to give away a prize.
I'm serving up a quick snippet from my Halloween tale Rendezvous, about a young woman's initiation into BDSM by a ghost in a haunted motel room. Leave me a comment, and you can win your choice of either Rendezvous or my M/F paranormal Hot Spell. I'll draw the winner next Sunday.
There are lots of other prizes up for grabs, too. Go to blissekiss.co.uk for links to dark kisses from other authors!
The wind whipped the ends of my hair into snarled tangles and brought tears to my eyes. The moon wavered above us, its light fragmented in my uncertain vision. Everything was a blur. We drove faster than seemed physically possible. Other vehicles were no more than streaks of brightness left in our wake. Dizziness swept over me. The moon spun overhead.
The engine roared, its vibrations resonating through my body. I could feel its power, in my thighs, in my sex, a constant thrumming that had my cunt weeping all over Tony’s fancy padded seat. The seat stretched me, held me open. I gripped Tony’s body more tightly, riding on the edge of orgasm, while his black steed carried us into the night.
I was in some kind of trance state, sight and hearing muddled but touch made unbearably acute. The monster cycle bucked between my legs as its driver raced onward into darkness. He’s fucking me, I thought, fucking me with his bike as he takes me down to hell with him, to stay with him forever.
As if he heard my thoughts, Tony turned back to look at me, laughing aloud. His dark eyes sparked with unnatural joy. His sharp teeth flashed. The pitch of the engine rose to a whine. Our impossible speed increased. The wind ripped at my clothes. Ice crystals stung my cheeks. The world collapsed into a star-spattered velvet blackness whirling past, and the incandescent blossoming of a climax deep inside me.
The dream blew away like tattered wisps of fog. We were parked on a quiet suburban street across from Christie’s bungalow. I tried to get off the bike, but my legs were jelly. If Tony hadn’t grabbed me, I would have crumpled onto the sidewalk.
“Shh.” Tony stopped my questions with a lingering kiss. “It seems that I can read your mind, a little. Enough to pick up your friend’s address, at least.”
He ran his fingers through my hair, gently working out the tangles, and straightened my dress, smoothing the satin over my breasts. He didn’t neglect the opportunity to tweak my nipples. Suddenly I was warm all over. My stripes burned anew; I almost expected to see them glowing.
Tony nibbled at my ear, then pulled my mouth to his. His tongue claimed me. His touch erased my doubts.
“So, are you ready, Justine? Are you recovered?”
“I think so.” There was a residual quivering between my thighs. “I’m kind of sticky.”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s just the beginning. Come.”
He put his arm around my shoulder and propelled me up the stairs to Christie’s door, between the rows of grimacing jack o’ lanterns.