Sunday, October 29, 2017

Sizzling Sunday: Unearthly Delights (#paranormal #erotica #Halloween)

Sizzling Sunday banner

It’s the Sunday before Halloween, and I’m celebrating the release of Unearthly Delights: Tales of Paranormal Desire. This anthology showcases the talent of the authors who frequent the Erotica Readers & Writers Association Storytime list. The eight stories in the collection range from light hearted to extremely dark, but all are intense, arousing tales that deliver a fresh and compelling take on paranormal sexual experience.

My own story, “Underground”, lies on the darker edge of the spectrum. The heroine is a woman whose sexual needs can only be satisfied by a creature of the night.

Check out my  exclusive Sizzling Sunday excerpt below. Then go buy a copy of the book—it’s on sale for the next week for only 99 cents!

Universal Amazon Link: http://mybook.to/erwa01


Unearthly Delights cover

Thus far tonight, despite the dagger, there has been no blood—just his mouth on mine and his probing thoughts. You are sure? comes his question, as clear as if he’d spoken aloud. I’ve become accustomed to his presence in my mind, the quiet authority that soothes me on the rare occasions when fleeting terror breaks through my lassitude.

I cannot nod—my muscles no longer obey me—but I mentally broadcast my assent. Even now, after all our encounters, I am not certain who he is, what limits he may have, how dangerous he could be. That doesn’t matter. I’d never refuse him.

His kiss sucks the breath from my lungs and the energy from my limbs, leaving me gloriously weak. Liquid pleasure ripples through my languid flesh, flowing in to replace the restless hunger that normally animates my body. I sink into the clean, sunshine-smelling sheets. My pulse sluggish, my breath stuttering, I close my eyes and let myself drown in that intoxicating kiss.

The world grows fuzzy, yet every sensation is heightened. His skin is silken. His mouth is hot as the sun, wet as rain. Tonight he smells of summer flowers and January snow. His hands roam over my nakedness as he kisses me, stroking, coaxing, delicate but insistent. Each touch is an invitation to release a bit more of my self to him.

When he finally stretches out on top of me, I am barely breathing. My heart beats no more than a dozen times per minute. I should be unconscious, my life hanging by a thread. Instead I’m acutely aware of him—the pressure of his hairless chest against my breasts, his winter scent. That, and the ripples of phantom bliss I feel despite my paralysis.

Then Z slides his cock into the hungry void between my sprawled thighs. Fire streaks through me. Answering energy surges back to him in a delicious, dizzy rush. I’d thought I was close to depleted, but I’m wrong. I have more, much more to give.

Z’s fingers might be gentle, but he wields his cock with all the brutal force I crave. Even in my debilitated state, I find myself close to climax as he pounds my cunt. He hovers over me, supporting himself on his arms, skewering me again and again. I’m far too weak to clench my muscles and hold him inside, but my slick folds cling to his cock as he withdraws before each savage thrust. Each time he enters my flesh, he takes more of me.

I surrender gladly, rejoicing in my weakness. Never have I felt so utterly helpless. Possessed, overwhelmed, almost erased. It’s terrifying and thrilling, desperately erotic. My sight is dim, but still I see his eyes, glowing above me as though lit from within by blue-green flame. No smile softens his features, not even now as his cock pulses in my paralyzed depths and his rhythm grows ragged. My surrender excites him. The knowledge that I please him, that I fulfill his needs as he does mine, floods me with a tingling warmth.



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