Smut slot: A Friday Smutty art lesson

Chiaroscuro (Italian for clear-dark) is a term in art for a contrast between light and dark. The term is usually applied to bold contrasts affecting a whole composition, but is also more technically used by artists and art historians for the use of effects representing contrasts of light, not necessarily strong, to achieve a sense of volume in modeling three-dimensional objects such as the human body........

Yeah yeah - blah blah. It's been used by Rembrandt and it's still being used today - think of Frank Millar's Sin City and you get modern chiaroscuro. But for me it was a good excuse to write a sexy tale of an artist who falls in love - or is it under the thrall?- of the beautiful young man he's been commissioned to paint as Icarus Fallen.

Chiaroscuro is a novella in Aspen Mountain Press' "Night Moves 1"anthology and tells the story of Michel di Posco who is being paraded around 19th century Florence by his Patron, showing him off as his new prodigy.

It is a vampire story as the cover suggests - all four novellas are - but it's not the emphasis of the story. It explores the good and evil in humanity and vampires. Where are lines of light and dark drawn? Who is good? And who is evil?

I hope you enjoy these two smutty snippets!

Michel has his first sitting with Yuri.

I moved back to him then, ready to start work, my shirt drying on my body in the warmth of the room. Kneeling down beside him, I arranged the sheets beneath him into the shapes I needed to give the impression of lightness and softness.

His gaze did not move from my face and his was impassive, nothing in his elegant countenance showing any emotion except those ageless, deathless eyes. I turned to him and without words unbuttoned his waistcoat with eager fingers, which stumbled and faltered, finding themselves almost incapable of such a simple task.

I do not usually, I add at this point, make a habit of undressing my models; an artist who commits such a faux-pas even once would never find models to pose for him a second time.

But there was no thought of him undressing himself; somehow we both knew such an unveiling was no sexual act, no prelude to eroticism. I had moved above and beyond my lust for him. I was simply preparing him as I would any still life.

He kicked off his house shoes and shrugged his way out of his waistcoat almost without levering himself from the floor. He went to sit up to remove his shirt but I pushed him back down, moved around to his head and pulled it up and over his head. Looking back now, I can hardly believe just how matter of fact I was in disrobing him that first time.

So many times since then have we playacted our first moments, cheated as it seemed we were of the sensuality of disrobing by my concentration and haste. We peel the clothes from each other like the layers of an onion, taking hours to become fully naked for the delectation of the other. It seems inconceivable that that at first I did no more but tug the clothes from him as roughly as if I were undressing one of my small nephews for bathing.

But the muse was within me; I did not see him as he became exposed to me. Did not see the pure lasciviousness of him, the maleness of his sensual perfection.

All I saw—as more and more marble-white flesh was uncovered—were the tones and shades of his body. The places where the light hid, or gleamed in brightness. Places that were breathless in their mystery. A hollow at the base of his neck, a pair of matched and wonderful shadows on his cheeks, soft adumbration causing a sudden and unexpectedly glorious magic in an otherwise rounded hip. Shadows deepening in a delirious and dangerous fashion as the heavenly triangle of his hips curved inward to meet in an abundance of golden fleece so glorious that Jason would have cast aside his rancid ram skin and sworn allegiance to these bright crisp curls.

And even Buonarroti himself could not have done justice to the proud flesh that which rested between his pale thighs. The most perfect and the most sacred part of him. Buonarroti had a talent for understating a man's anatomy and his David was sadly underrepresented. This sublime column of flesh would be faithfully depicted, I promised myself, and my mouth watered at the anticipation of transposing it onto the canvas.
I realised I was staring at his member, and for the first time since the early days in my master's studio all those years ago, when the male model stood in the centre of us apprentices and removed all of his clothes, I blushed deeply.

To cover my embarrassment, I picked up charcoal and sketched furiously; ignoring the deep chuckle my subject gave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And later....

I followed Yuri up the stairs and into the studio. It was much as it had been the time before, save that the curtains were drawn, no doubt to save the furnishings from the damaging sun.

He saw me glance at the windows. “The light; I hope that it’s not inconvenient?”

“No, not at all, the candles give you more colour anyway.”

He smiled, closed the door upon us and took hold of my arm, pulled me close. “I want you, Michel.”

“The work.”

“Can wait.” He was breathless and impatient, and God forgive me, once more I was swept away and I forgot all about duty and Bettano and even the consuming passion of my art as he buried his mouth in my neck and kissed me, causing my spine to shiver in delight.

He undressed me with rough haste, shrugging his few items off and pulling me to the soft rug beside him. “I have thought of nothing else than you for days, since we met. You consume me.”
He interspersed his words with kisses and all the while he stroked my cock, which shuddered with delight in his hand. “I want to take you Michel, want to fuck you and to spill my seed inside you. Do you want this? Do you? I think you are a virgin.”

The flutter of fear I felt at his words calmed as he kissed and stroked. His hand gradually moved further down my shaft until it left it completely and cupped my balls.

“Yes,” was all I could manage, gasping as his hand slid behind my balls and massaged the sensitive skin behind. Already he knew my body as well as I knew the intricacies of a canvas, knew every bump and crevice, every action to give me pleasure. “Yes.”

“I’ll take that as answer to both,” he said with a deep chuckle. He reached up to the settle behind us and pulled off the bolster cushions, put one under my head. “Roll over onto your side,” he ordered. I did as I was told, but in spite of the warmth of the room I shivered; I felt goose-flesh spring across my skin.

He settled behind me, lovingly. “Don’t be frightened, Michel.”

“I’m not,” I lied.

His hands moved all the while, over my shoulders, my back, my arse. I pressed back against his touch, relaxing more and more. Then one hand slid forward to take hold of my cock again while the other slid between my arse cheeks, and his finger slid up to find my entrance. Instinctively I tensed, but he kissed my neck and stroked my cock so slowly that I found that before I knew, it his finger had slid inside.

It was like a ripple of pleasure that started behind my balls and travelled all the way to the tip of my cock, like the disturbance caused by a pebble in a pond, wave upon wave of something like I’d never felt before. Within minutes, as his finger moved further and further in I found I was pushing back against him, as if wanting more. I did, although the fear was still there.

Something inside of me trembled when his finger touched a place deep within. The sensation was like nothing I’d ever experienced. I thought I’d spend myself immediately, but the urge passed, then returned when whatever it was he’d touched, he touched again. I gasped, arching my body like a bow, pushing my arse into his hand and leaning backwards to receive his kisses. “Again, again, I beg of you.”

He worked me for what seemed like hours, from time to time resorting to a little bottle of oil that he’d hidden beneath the settle. Such foresight and care made me love him more, and the scent of that the oil, pungent and deep, will ever remind me of him. Finally, he pulled his hand away and I felt his cock slip into the cleft.

“I love you, Michel,” he said. He did not so much as push into me, but pulled me by my hips back against him. It was uncomfortable, at first, but not painful. I blushed to feel my own erection wilt.

“It’s all right,” he murmured, his mouth at my neck. “It’s normal. Just breathe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Want to see what happens next? Buy the book (and you get 3 other novellas too!)

An electronic copy is up for grabs for one lucky commenter!

Erastes

Smut slot: Amanda's Young Men

Fireworks are for sale all over Canada right now. This is because Canada Day, July 1, is right around the corner, but I like to think it’s because the release date for Amanda’s Young Men is July 3, (although the book is available now on Amazon.co.uk) and Canadians everywhere are eager to celebrate. OK, so the release date is for the UK only and, according to the information I have at present, Amanda’s Young Men won’t be available in Canada/US until January 6, 2009, but still…a girl can dream, and for anyone who's ever dreamt of young-but-legal boy toys, my book is a dream come true.

Here's what the front cover looks like:


And here's what it says on the back:

When her husband dies of a heart attack in a by-the-hour motel, Amanda inherits a chain of shoe shops that bleed money. But luckily for Amanda, the staff are bright and beautiful young people, ambitious to succeed and eager to give her total satisfaction. As she sets out to save the chain, and discover the woman involved in her husband's death, Amanda also finds time to amuse herself with lovers - young ones, and lots of them. Heels, hose, and haute couture have always been parts of Amanda's life, but now she's up to her dimples in duplicity, desire and decadence.

That’s right, she’s a cougar on the prowl. And not this kind of cougar:


We’re talking about this kind:



Way to go, Demi! Next Friday we’ll be talking about boy toys and you’ll get lots of pictures like this one, and the opportunity to comment on the topic:



But today, it’s all about Amanda's Young Men. So here’s a couple of bites from the book to whet your appetite.

Amanda steals Paul from a rival shoe store:

He measured her foot with the delicate touch of a spider. ‘One moment, Madam.’
The shoe he brought to her was a plain classic pump in metallic bronze, with six-inch steel-tipped heels that were as slender and vicious as nails. He knelt and used his palm to push up on the blunted spike to press the shoe’s heel onto Amanda’s foot. Amanda bore down, forcing his right hand lower and lower, until its back was flat on the floor, and trapped. Then she put just a little weight on it, indenting the flesh of his palm.
Paul looked up at her face with both pain and lust in his eyes.
‘Now the other shoe,’ she said.
‘I…’
‘You’ll manage.’
‘Yes, Madam.’ Awkwardly, he worked her foot into the second shoe, one-handed, until a third of her heel was in it. He set his palm beneath its spike and looked up again, his deep brown eyes silently pleading.
Amanda knew exactly what he wanted. She forced his left hand down and trapped it beside its mate.


Amanda has sex with Paul:

Amanda knelt between his thighs. His balls, like Rupert’s, were tight and close to his body, two perfect gemstones encased in a sack of the thinnest, smoothest leather. She handled them with care, arranging his scrotum to hang nicely over the edge of the couch. The rest of his lovely young package lay limp on his thigh. She blew on its head. It twitched and rose a fraction. Her left hand took its base and lifted it. Even that slight attention engorged his flesh.
Amanda dipped her head. As her lips stretched over Paul’s knob, he gasped. She didn’t take him deep. It was her lips and tongue, slobbering and deliberately making wet noises, that brought him to full straining erection. She rose swiftly and knelt on the sofa astride Paul’s thighs. Still holding his shaft, she lowered herself until its dome was snuggled between her pussy’s bare lips.
Paul’s eyes clouded with lust. Holding his gaze, she sank, teasing herself and savouring each throbbing inch as it sank into her. When she was sitting on him, her lips stretched around his base, she ground down, gaining an extra inch, and rotated, stirring her own insides on the stiff rod that impaled her.
‘I’m going to fuck you,’ she growled. ‘I’m going to get myself off on your hard young cock and it doesn’t matter to me whether you come or not. This is for me. You understand?’
He nodded.
Amanda took a fistful of his hair in her left hand and twisted it. Paul winced but said nothing. Forcing herself down, Amanda bumped and twitched and squirmed until her clit was trapped between her pubic bone and his. She slow-humped, masturbating herself on his captive flesh. The thumb and forefinger of her still-latexed right hand clamped on his left nipple and firmly rotated it.
Now that she had two hand-grips, Amanda cut loose, twisting her hips and riding him, hard and fast. It must have been good for him, too good, because he groaned, humped up and collapsed. ‘Don’t you dare go soft on me,’ she ordered, and gave his nipple a cruel wrench.
Perhaps it was the sudden pain, for the flesh that she’d felt start to soften inside her recovered its rigidity. Incredible! She was truly using him just as she’d use a sex toy, pushing his buttons to make him perform exactly as she required. Inspired by her newfound power, Amanda rode Paul harder, faster, pounding her pubic mound down on his, exulting in every sensation. He kept the pace, thrusting up to meet her, matching her wildness with his own. Sweat dripped from her forehead onto his cheek. His tongue instantly stretched to capture the droplet. He closed his eyes, as if to savour the flavour. And it was this, this gentle, unexpected wordless declaration of adoration in the midst of their ferocious coupling, that tipped her into a climax so deep, so complete, it made her howl.

One lucky commenter will win a signed copy of Amanda’s Young Men, to be announced Monday. Just one thing – my author copies have gone missing but more are on the way. So the winner will have to be patient, but not as patient as North American readers.

Let the celebration begin!

(The painting used in this post is by Robert R. Bliss: "Untitled Pair of Young Men" If you have interest in this painting, contact Outer Cape Auctions.)

(If you just can't wait a week to contemplate boy toys, why not revisit Olivia Knight's crush Wednesday post on skinny boys?

Buy the book - Amanda's Young Men - Amazon.co.uk

preorder the book - Amanda's Young Men - Amazon.com

visit my blog - moremadelinemoore.blogspot.com

Titilating Tuesday - Whatta Man

I admit it, I have a thing for the hyper-masculine man. I like warriors. Hard, big, rough, a bit feral even. I can see the beauty in a man with eyeliner but he does not flip my switch in the same way a man, gleaming with clean sweat, broad shoulders blocking the sun as he towers over me, can do. However, don't worry, I'll be back next time with a tribute to the pretty men who make life better by just existing (mmm, Orlando Bloom)

So today's TT is a tribute to the warrior, the hot, hard manly man. At the end I'll even throw in a brief excerpt from one of my books, Cascadia Wolves: Enforcer - featuring a werewolf Enforcer (a cop of sorts) - Lex is big, bad, rough, hard and well, he's a werewolf so he's got feral down quite nicely.

But first - before brain candy - how about some eye candy?




CASCADIA WOLVES: ENFORCER BY LAUREN DANE
Copyright 2006, Lauren Dane
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave

She opened the door and they stood, silently staring at each other for a few moments.

“Nina…”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the room, shutting and locking the door behind herself, leaning on it for strength as she took him in.

He pulled off his shirt and she greedily drank in the details of his upper body. Strong, thickly muscled, not an ounce wasted. Not too much muscle—what was there wasn’t for show. It was the body of a man who worked out. Not just a body but a tool. Danger poured off him in waves—he was a big, bad man and she wanted an extra helping of it. She wanted to eat him up in great gobbling bites until she was positively stuffed with him. Oh he made her weak in the knees!

She took one step, then another until she was standing very close, then reached out a hand to stroke over his chest. She leaned in and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath and had to reach out to hold on as she nearly fell over with the intensity of her reaction.

Her body tightened up, nipples stabbing the front of her shirt, skin flushed and heated. Her pussy bloomed with desire, her honey making her slick. The world became a pinpoint of focus. Suddenly it was just the two of them, nothing else existed that mattered but having him inside of her body.

Lex gripped her forearm to keep her standing. “I know. It’ll pass in a moment.”

She looked up at him with widened eyes. “You know? What do you mean, you know?”

“I feel it too. The first time is the hardest, but each time I get a deep whiff of you, it nearly knocks me to the ground. I get so frenzied with lust that I have to grind my teeth to not drag you to the nearest horizontal surface and plunge inside of you.”

“What is it?”

He pulled her shirt off and unhooked her bra and they both hissed out when bare skin met bare skin. The feel of those diamond hard nipples—so pretty and delicious—pressing into his body made him delirious with want.

“Pheromones.”

“What?” This was slurred as she became drunk with him. Her eyes slowly slid closed as his hands moved up to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples between clever fingers.

“Chemicals, personal chemicals. Yours call to me, mine call to you.” He leaned down and kissed the spot just below her ear and she moaned.

“I know what pheromones are! But that’s mumbo jumbo. You’re just horny, I’m just horny. It’s not science.” Even as she said it she didn’t believe it. The totality of what she felt for him—the way her body responded when he touched her—it was more than mere horniness.

He made a tsk sound with his lips against her skin. “Liar. You know what I’m talking about and you know it’s the truth.”

“So if we fuck this…intensity will lessen?” She was breathless as she asked.

“It will always be intense, Nina. You’re my woman. Once we’re bound the intensity of our connection will deepen.” He said this in between pressing kisses down the long line of her neck.

She ignored that and arched into the questing hand that reached into her panties. She turned off her brain and just felt. Opened herself up to sensation. It was time that rational, by-the-book Nina went away for a while so Nina who hadn’t been fucked in years could get some.

Her hands slid down his chest and found the waist of his jeans and she yanked them open, satisfied as she heard each pop of the long row of buttons releasing. Suddenly he was there in her hands. Hard, velvety smooth and so hot. She encircled him with her fingers and looked down, smoothing a thumb over the head where a bead of semen pearled. He moaned and watched as she brought her thumb to her mouth.

He was salty, musky, masculine.

She squeaked in surprise as he picked her up and stalked to the bed, tossing her onto the mattress as he shucked his jeans and climbed up, halting on all fours above her, looking down into her face.

“Do you give yourself willingly to me?” he said, his voice low and laced with desire.
She writhed beneath him. The heat from his body blanketed her. She could smell him, the clean salt of his skin, the woodsy scent of his cologne, beneath it, the elemental Lex that she’d come to…oh god. She shoved that thought away quickly with rational Nina.

She nodded. “Yes. Oh god, Lex, please. I need you inside of me right now.” She didn’t even recognize her own voice, it was sultry, smoky.

“All in due time. I need to taste you. All of you.” He started by taking her lips again in a kiss that was designed to melt her, to make her bones jelly, and it was a good thing she was lying down because she didn’t think her legs would have supported her—he was quite successful.

He kissed down the line of her neck and she ran her fingers though his hair like she’d wanted to since she saw him that first night. It was so soft and she could smell his shampoo.

He stopped at her breasts, rolling his eyes up at her and she watched, entranced, as his teeth scraped over her nipple and his tongue swirled around. Over and over until she was nearly panting. Each draw of his mouth shot straight to her clit until her pussy was clenching and unclenching in time with his mouth on her nipple. Oh how she wanted him inside of her!

Stopping and pulling his mouth back, he gave her a grin so sexy and devastatingly naughty that she gasped. She watched down the line of her body as he kissed over her stomach and breathed hotly against her neatly trimmed mound. His big hands slid up from her calves to her inner thighs. His broad shoulders held her thighs apart. With another one of those grins, he moved down a bit and settled between them.

Reason Enough

by Megan Hart

It's available now!

Reason Enough, featuring the hero/heroine Elle and Dan from my Harlequin Spice release, "Dirty", is now available as an electronic download from Spice Briefs! This short story can also be read by those who haven't read "Dirty".

The Blurb:

Elle and Dan haven’t quite achieved their goal of having sex in every room of their new house--but almost! Marriage hasn’t dampened their hunger for one another in the least, and their relationship is as hot and passionate as ever. But when Dan brings up the subject of having a baby together, Elle finds herself conflicted. Between her dysfunctional family background and her fear of how a baby might change their life together, Elle’s not sure she’s ready for the big step. Dan doesn’t bring the subject up again, but the issue takes hold in Elle’s mind. And as their frequent lovemaking sizzles with unquenchable desire, Elle’s heart is filled to the brim with love and the longing to give Dan everything.

The Excerpt:

It wasn’t the sort of question I could answer at once, without hesitation. It took me hours to pick out which bathmats to put in our new bathroom. How on earth could I decide in one split moment if I should agree to have a baby?
“Yes? No?” Dan nudged his chin into the curve of my shoulder and neck from behind as his arms slipped around my waist. It made washing the dishes difficult, so I let the greasy pot in my hands slide back beneath the soapy water and leaned back against him. “Maybe?”
“Where did this come from?” I asked, practically, I thought.
Dan’s hands moved up and down my waist and crept below the hem of my shirt to link over my belly. “I was just thinking about it, that’s all.”
“Hmm.” I turned to face him, my hands going behind me to grip the edge of the sink. “A baby is a big responsibility.”
He grinned.
“Dan….” I had nothing to say, really. No real protest.
“Never mind, Elle.” He kissed me. “It’s just something I thought about, that’s all. When you mentioned the pills.”
I’d had a hangnail gone awry. My doctor had prescribed antibiotics to help get rid of the infection. Antibiotics can interfere with the effectiveness of birth control pills. I’d offered to use my mouth on him instead of making love.
“I thought you’d like a blow job.” I heard the slightly cool tone of my voice and imagined the slightly cool expression on my face, to match. “I mean, you usually do.”
Against me, on the places our bodies touched, I imagined heat growing. He pushed his hips forward a little bit to nudge a definite bulge against my stomach. He kissed me again, our mouths opening, and his hands gripped tighter on my waist.
“You know I do,” Dan murmured against my lips.
“Here? In the kitchen?” I raised a brow but kept my mouth from the smile threatening to tip it. “How shocking.”
“Shock me.”
We’d only been in the new house, our first together, for a few months. We hadn’t yet made love in every room – though not for lack of effort. I let my hand slide to his belt buckle. I tugged it open, moving his body as I did.
Dan let out a small grunt. “Use your mouth on me, right here.”
It would kill my knees, that tile floor, but I didn’t protest. I liked sucking Dan’s cock. He thought he was lucky. I was the lucky one, though. Lucky I’d found him, and that he loved me.
Luckier I loved him back.
I pushed him, not too gently, until he took a couple steps back. I unzipped his dark trousers, his work clothes, and pulled them over his hips. I went to my knees as I pushed the cloth over his thighs and down to his ankles. His cock tented the front of his soft boxer briefs, and I got rid of those, too.
I looked at him for a minute with my hand on the base of his prick. I licked my mouth to wet my lips, and Dan’s hands slid into my hair. Not pulling, not pushing. He was waiting for me to move. He could be patient if he had to be. If I made him.
I tilted my head to take him in as deep as I could. The groan of his response thrilled me. Sucking Dan was about him, but it affected me, too. My nipples tightened. My clit rubbed against my panties, and I reached with the hand not holding Dan to pull my skirt up my thighs. My knees protested the cold, hard tile without the cushion of my skirt, but I ignored the sensation. My fingers crept under the skirt to touch, just once, the silk between my legs.
“Yes,” Dan said. “Touch yourself.”
I didn’t answer, my mouth being occupied with other tasks. I sucked him a little harder, my lips closing over the head of his cock and meeting. Like a kiss. A second later, the pause so brief it was hardly there, my mouth opened again and I took him down the back of my throat. Up again, this time with one hand following and the other rubbing the front of my panties.
Dan’s fingers slid deeper into my hair, and he pulled out the spring-clip I’d used to keep it up. Dark lengths tumbled around my shoulders. I smelled the shampoo I’d used that morning when I’d bound it up, still damp. He finger-combed it, careful not to pull too hard as my head moved under his hands.
His breath hitched, in and out, faster. It wouldn’t take long for him to come. The question was, how long would it take me?

---

Want to win your own free download of Reason Enough? Comment to this entry and I'll choose one winner by Friday, June 13th! Good luck, and thanks for reading!

Stripped

by Lauren Dane

We'll start with the book video made by Anya Bast, who is one of the authors in the anthology (and a really fabulous author who can write some steamy sexin!)

So on May 1 - my novella, Stripped, came out in the What Happens in Vegas... anthology from Harlequin Spice.

Here's the blurb: Dahlia Baker had a reputation in her hometown. It was one of the things a woman with a body like hers had to contend with. As if large breasts and legs for miles made her a dumb bimbo. But it wasn’t like anyone cared that she had a 4.0 and a free ride to UNLV and so she grabbed opportunity with both hands and headed for the sunny heat of Las Vegas.

Still, she has bills to pay and if she wants to keep herself in books and a roof over her head, she has to get a job. And that’s where The Dollhouse came in where she worked as a burlesque dancer.

She’s got a plan for her future. But into her life strolls Nash, the brother of the man who owned the Dollhouse and a reputed player. Nash was literally the hottest man she’d ever clapped eyes on.

And he wants her.

Despite her reservations, they enter into a fiery affair and soon Dahlia’s heart is involved.

Nash knows Dahlia is skittish and over time, he begins to understand why. He may be a playboy, but he knows what he wants and he wants forever with Dahlia. It’s just going to take a very skillful combination of extremely hot sex and unconditional love to get her to see it too.

WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS: STRIPPED BY LAUREN DANE
Copyright 2008, Lauren Dane
All Rights Reserved, Harlequin Enterprises


Dahlia moved to the windows, amazed at the view. The mountains stood in the distance but most of the Strip lay below and to the east.

She felt him approach and leaned into his body when he wrapped his arms around her, melting at his touch. “Dinner will arrive in a few minutes. Is Indian all right?”

“Yes, wonderful. This is some view.”

“It is, isn’t it? Wait until it’s full dark. The lights are so beautiful.” His hands slid up under the hem of her shirt, palms smoothing over her bare skin. “You’re so warm.”

“Mmmm.”

“Sweatshirt off. Hands on the window. Spread your feet.”

Her eyes slid closed for a moment as she obeyed, the glass cool against her palms.
One handed, he peeled the cups of her bra back, baring her breasts to his touch, rolling and tugging her nipples. Dahlia opened her eyes to catch the mirrored view in the window of his hand moving down her stomach and beneath the waistband of her yoga pants. She’d considered changing into something fancier but she was glad she hadn’t as clever fingers burrowed into her panties and delved into her pussy.

“You’re so beautiful reflected there, Dahlia.”

Her eyes flicked up, catching his gaze in the window.

What a picture she made! Leaned back into him, one of his hands doing naughty things to her nipple, the other in her pants. No one had ever made her look or feel the way he did. She wasn’t afraid of her sexuality with him. He made her love that side of herself.

“I’m going to make you come. Just a quick one before dinner. And then we’ll take our time. Give it to me, Dahlia.”

“Work for it, Nash,” she gasped as his rhythm against her clit sped up.

A dark chuckle was her reward, hot against her ear and neck. “Tough talk for a woman standing in front of my living room windows with my hand down her pants. Your pussy is hot and juicy in my palm. Do you wonder who can see you?”

Her eyes moved from his to the city below. As her orgasm built, she did indeed wonder. Was there a man in his hotel room with binoculars? Did he see how wanton she was, writhing, rolling her hips against Nash’s hand?

“Dahlia Baker has a kink in her laces.” His voice was teasing and she wanted to laugh but instead gasped as she began to come, fingers pressing against the glass, eyes locked with his again.

Some moments later he put her bra back in place and pulled his hand out of her pants. Reaching up, he drew a fingertip over her bottom lip and spun her, kissing her mouth.

Her taste mixed with his, dizzying her. As always, the dark edge of his sexuality turned her on. Her entire being sparked with electricity. Nash Emery made her feel so alive.

Lust at First Sight

GEMINI HEAT & GOTHIC HEAT - Portia Da Costa

This is just a quickie to say... Wahey, both GEMINI HEAT and GOTHIC HEAT are published in America today! They're the two books that span my fourteen years as a Black Lace author and I'm thrilled to bits that they're available together like this... :)

To celebrate this auspicious day, here are two brief clips, one from each book, each containing the heroine's first impressions of the hero... and in each case, as the title of this post says, it's lust at first sight!

First, from Gemini Heat... Deana turns around and finds exotic Jake de Guile at her side...

'Chatted who up?'

The voice from beside her was soft and light with an insidiously husky catch. Pure sex, filtered through human vocal chords, and Deana knew exactly who it belonged to. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she turned around.

Her moments-only impression hadn't done him justice. She'd formed a sketch in her mind but what stood before her was a masterpiece, a living composition more fine and sensual than anything in this mad bad collection.

'Who were you going to chat up?' her vision in black persisted, but for several seconds all Deana could do was stare at his smiling lips, his large dark eyes; his hands, his body, his crotch. His narrow black eyebrows lifted in enquiry and amusement, and after a century she recovered her voice.

'You,' she said sharply, making a split second decision to be her usual unflinching self. He was raw eroticism on two legs, but she wasn't frightened of him. She wanted him, yes - instantly and unequivocally - but she didn't fear him. Although a small voice inside her said ought to.

'Yes,' she went on as she faced him. Panicking creatively, she said the first thing that came into her head. 'Although "chat up" is purely a figure of speech. You seem to be one of the few people here genuinely interested in the exhibits... so I thought it would be nice to "chat you up" and get your opinions. I'm