Sunday, April 17, 2016

Sunday Snog 222: Her Secret Ingredient (#romance #humor #bdsm)

Happy Sunday!

If all goes well, I should be back from my travels by the time this post goes live. But just in case... I didn't want to leave you without a Sunday kiss!

I hope you had fun during my Back List Blast. I'll announce the winners in a couple of days.

In fact, I'll count this post in the blast, too. If you would like to win a copy of this book, leave a comment with your email telling me so!




“Even our Monsieur le Chef can be swayed by great food. The desserts – oh, I’ve just got to try one of these...”

“No! Harry...”

Before I could stop him, though, he’d nipped a cream puff off the pile and popped it into his mouth. His eyes went wide as he chewed and swallowed.

“Unbelievable! Give me another...”

“Please, no...!” I grabbed at his arm, but it was too late. He’d already devoured a second choux. “Those are supposed to be for Etienne...”

“Come on, you’ve made at least two dozen. He won’t miss one or two.” Harry made as if to reach for a third puff. I hung on, trying to restrain him, but he was far stronger than I. Under that dorky clothing, I felt his muscles tense and shift.

He halted, his fingers inches away from its target, as if suddenly aware of my touch. Turning away from the tower of pastries, he gazed down at me. Behind his glasses, his mocha-coloured eyes gleamed with powerful purpose.

“Harry?” My stomach did a somersault. My cheeks felt as though they’d just come out of the oven. Meanwhile he held me in that fierce, all-consuming stare.

My right hand still gripped his left arm, near the shoulder. He reached out to rest his on my shoulder, as if we were about to dance. “You know, I actually see something a lot sweeter right here.” He slid his palm down my back and pulled me to his chest with a decisiveness that sent my pulse into overdrive. When he leaned in close, I smelled the almonds on his breath.

“Harry...I don’t think...”

“Shh!” He enforced this directive by fastening his mouth on mine in an energetic kiss.

He tasted, unsurprisingly, of sugar and cream. His firm lips moulded to mine while his tongue teased at the seam, coaxing me to open. I shouldn’t have given in, but I honestly couldn’t help it. He might look like a bit of nerd, but this guy really knew what he was doing. Wet, but not sloppy – forceful, but not brutal – alternating between deep penetration and playful flickering – he kissed with consummate sensuality. All I wanted was to swoon in his arms, to let him take me over. He seemed eager to oblige.

The hand on my back wandered down to cup my ass and pull my pelvis against his. I gasped at the size and rigidity of the lump pressed against my pubis. My nipples snapped into aching knots and moisture flooded my already damp panties. He laced the fingers of his other hand through my hair, using them to control the position of my head as he drank his fill of me.

His mouth slipped away from mine to nuzzle below my ear, somehow finding the precise spot that’s directly connected to my clit. Meanwhile he groped my breasts, squeezing hard – harder than I usually like, but now I actually wanted more.

Apparently he did, too. He tugged at my blouse, trying to pull it out from the waistband of my skirt, and finally succeeding. The first graze of his fingertips along my naked skin sent a wave of arousal crashing through me.

“Wait – no – aah...oh...” My protests faltered as he deftly extricated one of my breasts and caught the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He tugged on the taut node of flesh, twisted it, flicked it back and forth. I swear I felt him doing the same to my clit. At the same time, he caught my earlobe between his teeth, worrying it like a pup with a toy.

Oh God! He was all over me, fondling and caressing whatever flesh he could access through my dishevelled clothing – and it was glorious! Crumpling my skirt to the waist, he worked his clever fingers under the elastic of my panties to stroke my soaked fur. I jerked against his palm, wanting him to explore more deeply. He appeared happy to oblige, pushing into my channel with his fingers while strumming my clit with his thumb. I wormed my way into his loose trousers and clung to his cotton-covered ass, feeling his gluts flex as he ground his astonishing hardness against my belly.

I’d never doubt my grandmother again.

1 comment:

Colleen C. said...

Happy Sunday!

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