Happy Sunday! It’s time for yet another Sunday kiss. This one’s from my paranormal erotic romance novella Hot Spell. Seemed appropriate, given the imminence of summer!
When you’re done with my excerpt, head back to Victoria’s Sunday Snogpage for more oral activities!
The flames of passion are more than metaphor.
The city swelters In the grip of an unseasonable heat wave. Sylvie endures her solitary urban existence for the sake of her career, but the prospect of a hot, lonely three day weekend proves unbearable and she flees east to the pine-shrouded mountains. Far more at home in nature than in the city, Sylvie doesn't mind being alone in the wilderness, but she's not the only being haunting the glades and the trails. Her plans for a midnight dip are interrupted when she discovers a handsome stranger in the stream near her camp site. Hidden in the shadow of the trees, she can't help watching as he pleasures himself – or indeed, surreptitiously joining him in auto-eroticism. By the time she recovers from her climax, however, he has vanished.
Aidan finds her the next day as she sun bathes nude in a high meadow. It's obvious that his desire burns as fiercely as hers, yet he resists his own lust, refusing to make love to her. The muscular, sun-bronzed man with the red-gold hair is cursed with power he fears will destroy her if they give full rein to their passion. Can earthy, voluptuous Sylvie refrain from tempting him? Or will she risk being being literally consumed by love?
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A gasp…and not her own. Her eyes flew open.
“Don’t stop,” he cried. A man loomed over her—a man with a deep tan, a blond ponytail and eyes flecked with gold. The man from the creek.
Embarrassment flooded her. A flush spread like wildfire across her skin. She snatched her hand from her sex. Musk welled up, filling her nostrils. The stranger’s eyes were nailed to her trembling body.
“You don’t need to stop.” He sank to his knees between her splayed feet. “Please—you look so amazing…” He reached out as though to touch her, then stopped himself.
“I know you.” He wore the uniform of the National Park Service, but she’d recognise that powerful frame, that muscular grace, anywhere.
“I’d like to know you,” he murmured. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.” He smiled. It seemed to Sylvie that the sun had been clouded till then and was just beginning to shine. “Don’t be shy. Go ahead and pleasure yourself…”
“I don’t want to,” she told him, unable to look away from those gold-glinting eyes. But she did want to, wanted to stretch and writhe before him, lewd and proud, showing him what her lush body was capable of.
“Touch yourself,” he urged.
“No.” Sylvie propped herself up on her elbows, spreading her thighs wider. “You do it.”
She saw a kind of struggle in his face. She cupped her breasts, offering them, willing to do anything to lure him towards her pussy. He lunged forwards, strong fingers clamping down on her thighs. He was closer now and she could see his sculpted features, a shiny scar on his temple, the fierce gleam in his eyes. His luscious mouth opened then closed again. He licked his lips.
“Please,” she begged, holding her weeping pussy open so that he could see the slippery pink folds.
With a strangled moan, he bent his mouth to her soaked sex. She felt his tongue like a lash of fire, streaking through her cleft and then curling round her centre. All at once she was on the edge again, ready to ignite. He sucked her clit into his mouth, prodding it with his tongue. Meanwhile, his fingers kneaded her thighs hard enough to leave bruises.
Her cunt was seething. It would boil over in an instant. The man buried his face deep in her pussy, heedless of his own need to breathe. His nose mashed her aching clit and then everything went white as climax raged through her.
He was still licking as the shocks died away. Sylvie’s pussy fluttered and twitched while the stranger nibbled, stroked, and probed her depths. Usually she was too sensitive to touch herself after an orgasm, but now she found that she craved even more intense sensation. Her hunger had only increased. The cataclysmic surge of pleasure that had rocked her seemed only a step towards a fiercer climax.
The stranger devoured her as though starved for her sustenance. He sucked her labia into his mouth and tongued her hole, sending new sparks racing through her. At the same time, he teased the inside of her thighs and tickled her curly bush.
“More,” she gasped, sinking her fingers into his hair and pressing his face to her cunt. She arched up to give him better access. He responded by reaching beneath her to cradle her butt in his big hands. Now he held her sex to his mouth as though eating a juicy piece of fruit. The strength she sensed in those hands only drove her higher.
Tendrils of fiery pleasure scorched her. She was about to explode once more. She’d never felt anything like this—this kind of heat and urgency—even in her most passionate encounters. Who was this man, who knew her body so well that he could bring her to the brink of release in just a few moments?