Sunday Snog #111: Rough Weather

Of course I'm celebrating my new release Rough Weather this Sunday. My interracial paranormal erotic romance is available now from Totally Bound.

The kiss in this snippet is pretty brief, but I love the lead in!

Leave me a comment and I'll add you to my contest from last Friday. You could win a copy of Hot Spell, the sequel to Rough Weather. If you already commented on Friday's post, this give's you a second chance.

When you're done here, head over to Victoria's place for more sensational Sunday Snogs.

He drank deeply, swallowing half the contents of his glass. Ondine half-drained hers then refilled them both. 

His eyes glittered in the dimness. She’d skipped the fluorescent fixture overhead, contenting herself with the weaker light above the sink. Power radiated from his muscular form. It beat against her in palpable waves, lowering her resistance. She imagined him dashing the table to splinters, tearing her clothes from her limbs and trapping her with the irresistible strength of those dark arms. She saw them rising together into the sky, his mouth glued to hers and his cock lodged in her pussy. The wind wailed around them, as it had in her dream, while he plunged deeper, ever deeper…

She closed her eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the visions. They faded as she focused her attention on the flow of her breath and the tap of raindrops against the window.

“Is something wrong, pitit?”

In his broad-featured face, she read friendly concern and unrelenting desire. She swallowed the remainder of her wine and shook her head. A delightful warmth flowed from her chest to her extremities. Despite her wariness, she realised that she was enjoying Marut’s company.

“No…um…just a hint of dizziness. I’m okay now. So you…um…you can fly?”

Marut chuckled. “Actually, I have a pilot’s license. My Cessna’s parked at the airport. But yes. Sometimes, especially when I’m in the grip of strong emotion, the air will carry me where I want to go.”

“And what other powers do you have?”

“I can call storms—or calm them. Create a local whirlwind. Gather clouds and trigger lightning bolts…”

“Seems that clouds should be my responsibility, don’t you think? Since they’re water vapour and all.” Ondine giggled, then blushed at her silliness. Her intoxication was due at least as much to his presence as to the wine. She wanted him. She couldn’t deny it. She was dying to touch him again, to have him touch her. How long would he keep her waiting?

“I have no idea what determines the limits of my abilities or yours. But I’m certain, from what Mambo Marie taught me and from my own studies, that we’re far more powerful together than on our own.”

“You’ve said that before.” She rose, a bit unsteady on her feet, and circled to his side of the table. “But how do you know?” His closeness made her ache with need. Did she dare take the next step? Could she bear more of that awful intensity that had seized them that morning?

Marut pushed his chair back so that he was standing as well, but he still refrained from any physical contact. Far taller than she was, he towered over her, so that she felt small and vulnerable. His sleek, dark skin gleamed like polished jet. A musky fragrance surrounded him, laced with hints of frangipani and ozone. Lust knotted her nipples and flooded her sex.

“Don’t play with me, Ondine.” His voice was serious, even solemn. “You know it too. You’re drawn to me, inevitably and irresistibly. Since time began, we’ve been destined mates.”

He reached for her and she leaned in towards his questing fingers, but he aborted the gesture before they reached her skin. Instead, he tugged at his own wild hair. “I’ll keep my promise, though. I won’t touch you until you ask.”

Desire swelled in her, rising until the dam broke. “Please, Marut!” She flung herself against him, desperate now, and unashamed. Power sizzled through her at the first brush of flesh on flesh. “Take me. Show me who you are. Who we are.”

His lips were silken-smooth upon her own. “Most gladly, pitit.” Gathering her into his arms, he lifted her as though she were light as thistledown and headed for the stairs to the second floor. “But you must trust me completely.”

Overwhelmed by sensation, astonished by his strength, she could barely manage a whisper of assent.