Welcome
to this week’s installment of Sizzling Sunday! My
excerpt today comes from deep in my back list, my Mayan themed
paranormal erotic romance Serpent’s
Kiss. I realized I hadn’t posted anything from this book
in ages. So let me remedy that now!
Ancient mysteries control a modern woman's destiny
From the first, Dr. Elena Navarro senses that the wounded man she discovers outside the gates of her rural clinic is not an ordinary mortal. With his chest ripped open, Jorge Pélikal still demonstrates unnatural strength and power.
Elena is irresistibly attracted to Jorge, although he warns her their coupling could open the gates of chaos. She and Jorge fall in love, despite his dire predictions.
Gradually Elena comes to understand that Jorge is a supernatural player in a cosmic drama that will determine the fate of the earth and of mankind - and that even if he triumphs in his apocalyptic struggle with his nemesis, she may lose him forever.
“Jorge!
Why did you run away?” She gestured for him to join her on the
porch. In an instant, he stood in front of her, a half-smile on his
full lips.
He
grasped her hands. His skin was cool now, and moist like the jungle
night. His fever was gone, she realized gratefully. Joy bubbled up in
her chest. She almost laughed. She had thought that she would never
see him again.
“I
had no choice. I was in grave danger. And by remaining in your
clinic, I was placing you in danger.”
“Moving
when your chest has been ripped open and is held together by nothing
more than a few feeble stitches wasn’t exactly the safest thing to
do,” she scolded. “But I’m happy to see that you’re so much
better.”
“Much
better, thanks to you…Elena.” He squeezed her hands. Desire raced
through her, sharp, irrational, irresistible. “I’m sorry that I
had to return and place you at risk once again. But I left something
behind. Something important.”
“I
know. I have it, hidden safely away.”
He
searched her face, apparently trying to determine how much she knew
about the feather. “Give it to me, then, and I’ll leave you in
peace.”
“No.”
“What?”
“No—I
don’t want you to go. I’ll give you the feather, but only if you
promise to spend the night with me.” Listening to herself, Elena
was appalled. What was she saying?
She had
not planned this. She was keeping the feather for him and had
honestly intended to return it. But now she wanted him, with a
single-mindedness that drove out all reason. She would do anything to
satisfy this uncharacteristic desire. She could not let him escape
again.
He
cupped her cheek in one of his strong brown hands. Elena nearly
swooned.
“You
don’t know what you’re asking, Elena. It’s not possible.”
“I
know what I want. What I need. And I won’t turn over the feather
until you give it to me.”
He
removed his hand, leaving her mourning for his touch. “I could
force you.” His soft voice rang with power.
“Go
ahead and try.” Elena’s words were defiant, but there were tears
in her eyes.
“You
don’t understand what you ask. If we couple, you and I, we will
open the gates of chaos.” He hovered close, leaning over her,
gazing into her eyes. His scent made her dizzy.
“I
don’t care. So be it.”
His
strong arms snaked around her body and pulled her to his chest. “So
be it,” he whispered. “As the gods will.”
His
mouth captured hers. He sucked away her breath, drained her of her
strength. Then he swept his tongue across hers and everything flowed
back—strength, breath, awareness, pleasure. She felt his tongue
everywhere, on her aching nipples and in the liquid gap between her
thighs, tickling the tender lobe of her ear, dancing in the hollow at
the base of her throat. Yet she knew, with the tiny kernel of
rationality that remained, that his lips had not left hers. This
exquisite ballet of sensation was nothing more than an illusion.
Real or
imagined, the fluttering tongues quickly carried her to the edge of
release. “Please,” she begged, sliding her mouth away from his.
“I can’t wait. Make love to me.” He clutched her to him. His
erection pressed into her belly like a lump of stone. “You want me,
Jorge. Take me.”
“Your
clothes…” he murmured. In ten seconds, she had them off, her
jeans still hanging off one ankle, her blouse a torn heap on the
ground. He pulled his shirt over his head and folded it into a pillow
for her comfort. Then he bore down on her, taking them both to the
floor of the porch.
She
untied his drawstring pants and pushed them down around his lean
hips. His swollen cock sprang out, an invincible spear of flesh aimed
at the sky. She stroked her hand down his length, marvelling at the
satiny texture of the skin, the way it sheathed a core of granite.
She was suddenly reminded of the feather, simultaneously stiff and
soft.
Jorge
swept his fingers once through her cleft, as if to assure himself
that she was ready. She jumped at his shocking touch, teetering on
the precipice. A river of sweet moisture flowed from her, coating his
hand. He did not make her wait any longer.
Get
your own copy of this fiery book!
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and Noble:
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