This week's snog is from my short story Refuge, which is part of the charity anthology Coming Together: At Last. This two-volume set features multi-racial and multi-cultural tales, and all proceeds benefit Amnesty International.
I'm focusing on my altruistic erotica today because starting on February 1st, I'll be hosting a whole month of guests who write for Coming Together. During my Share the Love blog bash, many of the authors (including me, of course) will be offering daily giveaways to people who comment. At the end of February, we'll draw the name of one reader who'll receive a $50 gift certificate from All Romance Ebooks. Meanwhile, we're also giving away a super grand prize - a Kindle Fire - to one lucky and industrious visitor. Drop by on February 1st to read the inaugural post from Alessia Brio, founder of Coming Together, and learn how you can get your hands on the Kindle!
Meanwhile, today, don't forget to visit Victoria Blisse at Snog Central, to read her weekly kiss excerpt. Then follow the links to enjoy lip-smacking delights from lots of other authors!
“Khun Nu. I have come to thank you.” It was dark—aside from the commander’s office, the camp had no electricity—but a full moon showed me me every detail of her beautiful face. My cheeks felt hot. I had stripped to my undershirt, but my uniform pants grew tighter and more uncomfortable than ever. “Without your help, Su would have died.”
“Never mind, it’s nothing. I’m glad I could help. Anyone would have done the same.” Shame washed over me. I remembered my temptation to abandon her, and was suddenly very glad that I had resisted. Helping you is the least I could do, I thought, when I’m part of the machine holding you prisoner here.
“No, that’s not true at all. Believe me. I’ve been here a lot longer than you. Most of the soldiers here have no heart at all. They think we’re sub-human. You risked your own position and safety for us.” She reached out to me. “Come. Let me show you how grateful I am.”
I froze, suddenly understanding what she had in mind. “What? No—no, really, that’s not necessary...”
She arched one delicate eyebrow. “Don’t you want to? Don’t you like me? I had some notion that you found me pretty.”
“I—no, it’s not that, you’re lovely, it’s just—well, I don’t want to take advantage... You’re so young, so sweet...”
A bitter laugh. “Take advantage? You think you’d be the first soldier here that I’ve fucked?” Her crudeness made me cringe, but then her voice grew softer. “Please, Nu. I want to be with you. I want to be close to you. You’re the only man in Thailand who has ever treated me like a human being.”
I knew it wasn’t right. I wanted to resist. But I let her take my hand, let her lead me along narrow, overgrown paths where the moonlight could hardly penetrate the overhanging vegetation. My conscience cried out ‘No’. My mind echoed the warning. I ignored them, choosing instead to listen to my body and my heart.
I watched her body sway in front of me. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness. I could see her slender back, with its cloak of gleaming hair. I swallowed hard at the sight of her hips, their swell distorting the patterned fabric of her sarong. I was sweaty and nervous as she led me through the forests near the camp boundaries and up to higher ground. The aching lump in my groin made it difficult to walk.
The path opened into a grassy clearing. Moonlight poured in. To my left rose a steep wall of limestone. The plash of falling water reached my ears. Rivulets emerged from the cliff at several spots and tumbled into a mossy pool at its base, before spilling over and flowing down hill toward the camp. The cool breeze was rich with the scent of growing things, free of the fetid aromas of the caged humanity.
I took a deep breath. Prean stopped by the pool. She turned to me, her arms wide in invitation. I stood rooted in that magical spot, snared by her beauty.
“Nu?” Her voice released me. I gathered her in my arms, burying my face in her fragrant locks. The soft flesh of her breasts pressed against my chest, sending a thrill through my limbs that settled in my groin. Amazed at my daring, I ran my palms over her cloth-wrapped hips, around to her buttocks, and pulled her body tight against mine.
She ground her pelvis against my swollen cock. I moaned, finding her lewdness shocking but irresistible. “Mmm,” she murmured. “I guess that you do like me, after all.” Before I could stop her (and only part of me wanted to), she had slipped her hand between us and unfastened my fly.
My rigid penis sprang into her hand, an arrow to its target. She stroked it delicately, like some fluttering bird that might escape. It swelled at her touch. As it hardened further, she started to squeeze, pumping rhythmically from base to tip as though she was milking a goat. She smeared the sensitive bulb with moisture leaking from the eye, and I nearly lost control. Meanwhile, with her other hand, she grabbed my head and pulled my lips to hers.
Her mouth was open from the first. Her kiss was bold, all tongue and teeth, honest in its need—the hot, hungry kiss of a woman starved for loving. I returned the kiss, as best I could, lost, dizzy with lust. My senses reeled. It was too much. The fever of her mouth, the cool silk of her fingers on my cock. Her scent, grass and smoke, salt and musk. Her taste, lemon and mint. I felt my balls contract and groaned, sure that I was about to embarrass myself by spurting all over her hand.
Prean knew. At the last moment, she released both my cock and my mouth. Her smile was full of mischief and understanding. Stepping away from me, she pulled her tunic over her head. Jet locks tumbled over her bare shoulders. I stared at her breasts, white and plump as little chicks with tips dark as tamarind pods. My palms ached to cup them, to feel them yield under my touch. She loosed the tucks holding the sarong around her hips. The fabric dropped to the ground, revealing her flat belly and winking navel, her pale thighs and shapely calves, and at the center of the universe, the tangled patch of black fur that hid her sex.
My cock twitched, eager for a taste. I was too shy to move.
Her scent was sharper now. She knelt and spread the sarong upon the grass, then lay on her side, watching me. “Please. Take off your clothes, Nu. I want you.”
4 comments:
"Fanning" Phew! Hot! Love it Lisabet :-) I'll watch out for that blog hop. It's a great cause :-)
Thanks, Maggie!
I hope you'll spread the news about the blog hop far and wide! We want the world to know.
Great excerpt Lisabet as always! I'm really looking forward to Sharing the Love with you on the blog hop! ;)
A woman who knows exactly what she wants and isn't afraid to go for it! Loved it! I hope you all sell a million copies for Amnesty International!
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