It’s
Sunday again. I’m off traveling this week, but I couldn’t leave
you without a snog!
My
kiss excerpt today is from my sexy BDSM ghost story, Rendezvous.
As
promised, I’m giving away a book every Sunday during October. You
can win a copy of this one. Just leave me a comment! Don’t forget
to include your email address!
And
as usual, I hope you’ll visit Victoria Blisse for more sexy Sunday
Snogs!
Blurb
For
Rebecca, Halloween has always been special, an opportunity for her to
cast off her sensible, ordinary self and assume a new look and a new
identity: someone extraordinary, sensual and seductive.
When Halloween night finds her stranded by a breakdown in a seedy motel nearly a hundred miles from her friend's annual party, she's terribly frustrated and disappointed. Then she discovers that her room is haunted by the invisible but unquestionably virile ghost of a rake who seduced local women nearly half a century earlier. Gradually, the ghost unmasks Rebecca's secret desires, fulfilling every one.
By the time midnight tolls, Rebecca has come face to face with more magic than she had ever imagined.
When Halloween night finds her stranded by a breakdown in a seedy motel nearly a hundred miles from her friend's annual party, she's terribly frustrated and disappointed. Then she discovers that her room is haunted by the invisible but unquestionably virile ghost of a rake who seduced local women nearly half a century earlier. Gradually, the ghost unmasks Rebecca's secret desires, fulfilling every one.
By the time midnight tolls, Rebecca has come face to face with more magic than she had ever imagined.
Sulfur.
Just a faint trace, as if someone had been striking old-fashioned
wooden matches. I opened my eyes. The stains on the ceiling whirled
dizzily for a moment before settling down.
I
tried to move my arms and discovered that my bonds were gone. I was
stiff from immobility. My joints complained as I brought my legs
together, sat up, and scanned the dingy, run-down interior.
My
costume hung limply on the door. The corner was empty, no whip, just
a couple of dust bunnies. There were no ropes, no stockings dangling
from the bed posts. It was so quiet that I could hear the dripping of
the shower faucet.
I
was alone, or so it seemed. Something in my chest seemed to shatter.
Then
I realised that the other bed was occupied.
He
was tall, muscular and utterly gorgeous, with moon-pale skin and
luxurious black hair that curled over his high forehead. He wore
tight jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket, with a snug T-shirt
underneath. I almost drooled over his sculpted cheekbones and
decisive chin. His eyes were closed, shaded by thick dark lashes. He
didn't seem to be breathing.
I
reached out to brush my fingers over his face. “Tony?” My voice was a tentative
quaver. There was no response. But it had to be him. As an invisible
spirit, he had seethed with energy. Now he was inert, lifeless,
definitely dead.
Tears
welled up in my eyes. He had touched me. I had touched him,
surrendered to him, made myself his. We had shared something real,
something that would have been magical even if he had been flesh and
blood instead of some spectre.
I
leaned over and brushed my lips over his mouth. His lips were cool,
but not stiff. I realised that, with all our carnal connections, we
had not kissed. Taking his face in my hands, I kissed him deeply,
threading my tongue between his motionless lips, pouring out my
warmth and passion.
He
stirred beneath me. I pulled back. I'd never expected to wake the
dead. His eyes opened and focused on my face.
“Rebecca!
You can see me?”
“I
don't know how or why, but yes, I can.” I sat back and gave him an
exaggerated once over. “And I must say, I like what I see.”
“Thank
you, my little slut.” His smile was warm, rich and full of power.
It matched his voice. He reached for me, pulled my body on top of
his, and gave me a kiss that felt hot and real and unequivocally
right. His reactions were real, too; I could feel his cock stiffening
through the denim. I rubbed my naked cunt against him, and sensed him
hardening further.
“I
don't really know how these things work,” he said, finally breaking
away from my mouth. “Hauntings and so on. And of course, I don’t
really remember much about my other —manifestations. But maybe you
can see me because you're the first person who trusted me enough to
let me be myself. The first person who's really touched me, since
that Halloween in ‘62.”
“Have
you ever...has there been anyone else, since—well, you know?”
“Since
I died?” I flinched a little, and he laughed. “I really don’t
know. I have some vague recollections, more images than memories,
women writhing underneath me, pale skin marked by the whip. Maybe
it’s some kind of test. Maybe there’s someone sent to meet me
here, each year, to offer me a chance at redemption.”
On
the other hand, maybe I’m just remembering scenes from my glory
days.” He sounded slightly bitter, but then he smiled. He ran his
finger along a scarlet welt which stretched from the crest of one
breast into the hollow between them. I shivered at his touch. Shades
of past pain flitted through me, raising answering surges of
pleasure.
“You
know, even back then, when I was alive, the dark secret of so many of
the county women—maybe I wasn’t real. I thought that I was in
charge, taking what I wanted. But actually, they used me. To satisfy
their bodily lusts and their nasty fantasies. When they went back to
their nice, normal husbands or boyfriends, I was alone. Even then, I
was just a shadow.”
“You
didn’t have anyone?”
He
gave an empty laugh. His voice was heavy with irony. “I thought
that I wanted freedom. And variety. But what did I know? I was just
a kid. I was only twenty six when that bastard shot me.”
My
heart ached as much as my clit. “It’s not right. You don’t
deserve to be punished; that murderer does.”
“I
don’t know. Maybe I’m being punished for being blind, for not
seeing what really mattered.” He stroked my hair and gazed at my
face, silent, for a dozen breaths. “You. You’re something
special, you know. You understand the power of surrender. You offer
your spirit as well as your body.”
I
glowed all over at his praise. “I’m pretty ordinary, really. Just
a girl who happens to believe in magic.”
“Too
bad that I didn’t meet you—before.”
Tears
pricked the corners of my eyes. What were the chances I’d meet my
soul mate in this dump of a place? What were the chances that he’d
be dead?
****
Sound
like something you’d like to read? Leave me a comment with your email and
you could win a copy!
1 comment:
Happy Sunday Lisabet! Have a safe trip!
Post a Comment
Let me know your thoughts! (And if you're having trouble commenting, try enabling third-party cookies in your browser...)