Happy Sunday! I’ve been away all week on a business trip, but I’m back just in time to post this week’s snog.
I decided to share a kiss or two from my lesbian paranormal erotic romance story The Witches of Gloucester. This is partly in celebration of the wonderful review I just got on Amazon for this book. Plus, of course, we’ve just entered the month for witches, though there’s nothing scary about my sorceress trio.
Also, I’m in a LGBT mood, because I’m reading a new book of short stories by the fabulous Giselle Renarde, entitled LGBT Love. Giselle is donating 100% of the proceeds from this book to LGBT charities. So why don’t you pick up a copy, too? You’ll find all the buy links here: http://ohgetagrip.blogspot.com/2015/10/true-heartfelt-loving-kindness.html (And no, this is not just a ploy to get you to visit my other blog Oh Get a Grip! Giselle is an amazing writer.)
After you’ve savored my snog, slide over to Victoria’s place for more Sunday kisses!
She flipped the card over to reveal the three of hearts.
Fear, excitement and lust washed through her in alternating waves. She pushed the exultation away. “It’s just random luck,” she said, wanting but not daring to believe. That force, that attraction – she’d imagined it. She was suggestible – Tim had always said so – and these two women had formidable wills.
“Try again,” Beryl urged.
The two of spades, the Jack of diamonds, the ace of hearts – she found them all, one after the other. The pull of the card she sought grew stronger each time.
“What does it mean?” she asked at last. She sounded small and scared to her own ears.
‘“Let’s try something else first.” Marguerite drew a card from the deck, gazed at it for a moment, then placed it face down in front of her. “Tell me which card I just picked.”
The answer came to her almost before the tawny beauty had asked her question, with no effort at all. “Four of diamonds.”
“Now me.” Beryl selected not one but three cards, setting them out in a row. “You know what to do, Emmeline.”
The messages weren’t so clear this time. She felt as though several different people were shouting in her head. Images of cards flashed by, too fast and indistinct for her to decipher. “I don’t know,” she whimpered. “I can’t...”
Beryl seized her by the wrist across the gap. Power jolted through her. The pictures snapped into focus. “Nine of spades, six of clubs, Queen of hearts. Oh my God...”
Marguerite gathered Emmeline into her arms as the girl burst into ragged tears.
“Hush now.” The raven-haired woman combed her jewel-encircled fingers through Emmy’s platinum locks. “Don’t be afraid.” Warm lips branded Emmy’s brow. A supple tongue flicked out to gather the tears from Emmeline’s cheeks. Through wine-colored velvet, Marguerite’s ample bosom, simultaneously soft and firm, pillowed her own more modest breasts. A whiff of cinnamon tickled her nose, followed by the musky aroma of female arousal.
Emmeline’s already swollen nipples pulsed like the lighthouse off Bass Rocks. A wave of liquid need swept through her, cresting and breaking between her thighs.
“Oh...oh, please...” Marguerite’s fierce kiss swallowed her moan. A snake-like tongue wriggled into Emmy’s mouth, brazen and seductive. Emmeline yielded, swooning with the heat of that kiss, until needle-sharp teeth nipped the plumpness of her lower lip.
“Hey! Aah...” Her yelp became a groan of need as the tiny pain kindled new fires in her hungry pussy.
“Ssh. Just relax, love.” That was Beryl’s voice, smooth, hypnotic, matching the delicate brush of fingertips along her shoulders and down her arms. “Let us pleasure you the way you deserve.”
Seduced by the redhead’s quiet dominance, Emmeline obeyed. She closed her eyes, letting the rising tide of her own lust drown the last shreds of fear.
In the sweet darkness, every sensation grew more acute. Marguerite deepened the kiss, sucking Emmy’s tongue into her mouth, while Beryl stroked Emmy’s back, belly and thighs. The wandering hands barely touched Emmeline’s body but everywhere they traveled, delicious heat followed.