This past Wednesday, a devastating earthquake struck a rural area in the mountainous Abruzzo region of Italy. Over 250 people are confirmed dead, while thousands have been left homeless. The centuries-old stone buildings in Amatrice and surrounding towns simply crumbled to rubble in the shock. Reconstruction is expected to take years.
My
Sunday Snog today is dedicated to helping those affected by this
disaster. I don’t have any stories set in Italy (got to remedy
that!) so I’m giving you a sexy kiss or two from my French-themed
erotic romance The
Ingredients of Bliss.
Check
out my excerpt below, then leave me a comment telling me what you
think. For each comment I receive, I will donate
one dollar to the Italian Red Cross
for reconstruction.
In
addition, I will randomly choose one person who comments to receive a
free copy of this full length novel!
You
can donate, too. Just go here:
Oh,
and when you’re done with my snog, do click back to Sunday SnogCentral, where Victoria Blisse has links to lots more delicious
kisses.
One
sexy French chef. One kinky American TV producer. One ambitious
Chinese gal who thinks she wants them both. The ingredients of bliss?
Or a recipe for disaster?
“Emily?”
Harry’s
voice boomed
through the
corridors, as
if in
answer to
my thoughts.
“In
here. In
Dantès cell.”
Harry
had to
duck to
get through
the low
doorway. “Ah.
I should
have figured
I’d
find you
in a
dungeon.” He
smelled of
sunscreen, sweat
and musk.
Like Pavlov’s
dog, I
started to
get wet
in response
to the
familiar
stimulus.
I
fought my
rising need.
“Hi, Harry.
I was
just about
the head
back…”
Before
I could stop him, he’d clasped me to his chest. “I missed you,
love.” He buried his nose in my wind-tousled hair, breathing deep
then nibbled my ear. “You smell delicious.”
I
tried to
untangle myself
from his
arms. “I
need a
shower.” My
laugh sounded
hollow.
“That’s
why you smell so good. No, actually that’s not true. You always
smell good. One whiff of your magic scent and I’m hard as a rock.”
He
wasn’t lying. His erection prodded my belly as he ran his hands
over my curves and burrowed into the crook of my neck.
“Too
bad there aren’t any iron rings or bars. You’d look so fetching,
shackled to the dungeon wall.”
“Harry,
come one.
Be serious!”
Once more
I struggled
against his
embrace, without
success. He
only held
me tighter.
He was
far stronger
than I.
My stomach
did a
dizzy little
flip at
this realization.
“They’re
probably waiting
for us…”
He
left off his nuzzling and gazed into my eyes. In the dim cell, his
were full of shadows. “Let them wait. And I am serious, Emily. I’ve
never been more serious in my life.”
I
couldn’t
avoid the
kiss. Honestly,
I didn’t
want to.
His mouth
sealed itself
to mine
and his
tongue forced
my lips
apart, claiming
me. Lust
roared through
me, unleashed
by the
ferocity of
his oral
conquest. I
tasted the
sugary residue
of his
soft drink,
the mint
of his
toothpaste,
residual garlic
and herbs
from the
ratatouille.
His assertive
male odor
surrounded me,
the essence
of pure
sex. I
opened to
him and
let him
take me.
I had
no choice.
He
didn’t
fondle my
breasts or
pinch my
bottom or
insinuate his
fingers into
my drenched
knickers. He
did nothing
but kiss
me, pouring
every ounce
of feeling
into that
mouth-to-mouth
connection.
Without the
slightest
stimulation,
aside from
his taste
and smell,
the firmness
of his
lips and
the probing
of his
tongue, I
found myself
trembling on
the verge
of climax.
Irresistible
power flowed
from him,
overwhelming me.
Helpless, lost
and grateful,
I let
myself go.
He
understood what
he was
doing to
me. He
felt my
last resistance
crumble. My
plans, my
qualms, my
logic all
came to
nothing when
faced with
the intensity
of his
desire. And
as I
surrendered, the
kiss changed.
Now
he sipped
at my
mouth rather
than swallowing
me whole.
His tongue
feathered over
my lips,
coaxing me
to let
him enter.
He breathed
into me,
warm and
sweet, gentle
as drifting
clouds on
a spring
day. Holding
me close,
so close
I could
feel the
heartbeat under
his sweat-damp
shirt, he
bathed me
in his
devotion.
My
sex still tingled and sparked, but now some other sensation swelled
in my chest, a rare joy that seemed on the edge of triggering both
laughter and tears.
“I
love you,
Emily.” His
voice was
rough velvet,
his lips
moist against
my cheek.
“More than
I can
ever say.
More than
I know
what to
do with.”
Tell
him,
my rational
self whimpered,
weaker by
the instant.
Tell
him
you’re
leaving,
before
it’s
too
late.
I
raised my face to his and offered him my mouth, and the truth.
“I
love you, too.”
****
Don’t
forget to comment! Include your email address if you want to a chance
to win the book!
