Monday, September 17, 2012

New: Sanguine Kiss


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Author: Alexandra Christian
Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance/ Vampire
Length: Novella,  17720 words, 44 Pages PDF
Heat Level: Erotic
Warning: Violence

Vengeance is only the beginning…
Gillian Thompson wants to end her life. Deserted by her lover and desperate for peace, she thinks that death is the only answer. But life never closes one door without opening a window. On a fateful night, the one that should be her last, she meets the dark and mysterious Seth, who seems to understand the depth of her pain. Rather than let her kill herself, he offers Gillian a new life beyond pain and regret. A life bathed in bloody kisses and bittersweet vengeance.

"Imagine it…slipping into eternal slumber in the safety of my arms.”
“No!” she shrieked, making a dive for the hallway. He was faster and before she knew what was happening, he’d grabbed her around the waist and thrown her against the wall, pinning her between him and the rough stone. His hands gripped the corner of her jaw, holding her head in place as he sniffed her like the animal he was. He growled and hissed, burying his nose in the crook of her throat and inhaling her musky scent. “Please don’t hurt me…” she whimpered.
“You think I want to kill you,” he said, his voice taking on a gravelly tone.
“But you’re…” She stopped, her voice trailing into another whimper as he kissed her throat. She couldn’t say it. The trembling and disbelief wouldn’t let her. “This can’t be real.”
“I can assure you, love. I am quite real.”
“Then you are…”
“A vampire?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Are you?”
Seth smiled again, this time wide enough to confirm her suspicions. “Are you afraid?”
“No,” she lied, struggling to keep her breathing slow and even.
“Liar,” he replied, inhaling deeply as he nuzzled under her hair. “I can smell it on you like cheap perfume. It permeates every part of you and makes your blood a complicated ambrosia.” With that, he licked the outline of her jugular vein with the tip of his tongue then stopped, his lips lingering on the soft place just under the corner of her jawline and then sucking gently. “I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted and more. Answers to every question. Pleasure like you’ve never known.”
His words were the aphrodisiac she needed, and she melted into his embrace. “Yes.” She sighed, succumbing to his seduction and offering her mouth to his. He kissed her deeply, his tongue delving into the moist cavern and drawing the breath from her body. He could feel her move against him, her body shuddering involuntarily. “Please…”
Seth broke away, growling deep in his throat as he swept her drunken, limp body into his arms. He carried her swiftly through the labyrinth of corridors and up the stairs, moving with an impossible speed that took her breath away. When they arrived at the end of the hall, he kicked the double doors, breaking the latch so that they flew open. Gillian flinched at the sound of the wood splintering as the doors hit the wall behind with enough force to leave a dent in the plaster. He tossed her unceremoniously onto his bed and stood back, watching her with a predatory glare.
“Are you going to kill me?” she whispered, sitting back on her elbows.
“Yes.” He watched as her chin began to tremble and she started moving backward slowly. “I’m afraid you’ve been chosen.”
“Please don’t.”
“So, you do want to live?”
She inhaled to say something but the words died on her lips, looking into his eyes. “I… I suppose,” she replied.
He came upon her, kneeling over her in an instant and making her draw back with fear of him. “You suppose? You must be sure! I offer you death, yes. But also life. Eternal life and you cannot change your mind once it’s begun!” He pulled her to him in a furious embrace that nearly stopped her breath. She cried out. He held onto her tightly, his mind racing with wonder. Why had he attached himself to this one so much? What was it about her that made him feel so…human? It had been a hundred years since he’d taken a companion and the last one had ended so badly—why should she be any different? But the thought of leaving her was nearly painful. “Let me give you something to live for,” he whispered.
Thursday, September 6, 2012

Great New Titles from Purple Sword!


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Author: Daphne Monet and Anastasia Rabiyah
Genre: Fantasy Erotic Romance
Length: Novella, 23001 words. 65 Pages PDF
Heat Level: Erotic
Warnings: Violence

Shauna wanted some time to herself to regain her sanity after almost making the biggest mistake of her life. Then she found Ewan wounded in the forest near her secluded cabin. He was different than any other man she’d ever met, his outdated chivalry the first clue that he was definitely not from her world. Despite the undeniable passion between them, he has to go back to his world to fulfill his duties and stop the Kelden invasion of his village. Shauna has to face her own problems in her world. But given the chance, will either give up their lives to be together, and which world will they choose?

Shauna heard a man scream from somewhere near the waterfall. It wasn’t the excited yell of a camper jumping into the river from the cliff, but a cry of pain. She raced down the path, pine branches grasping at her cargo pants. This part of the forest was overgrown and seldom camped in. She’d asked to be stationed here for that very reason—to be away from people. She heard him again, his voice softer, weaker. Thoughts of what she might find raced through her head; a bear attack, a rogue wolf, or maybe a drunken idiot had fallen off the rocks. In the past, she’d seen it all in different places; she’d been stationed too close to the spots where teens hung out and drank themselves into a stupor. Shauna reached the edge of the cliff and looked down at him.He was alone near the water’s edge, his body bloodied on one side. She looked over her shoulder, wondering if she should go back for her first aid kit. “Damn it.” Second guessing herself, she shimmied down the rocky path, trying her best not to tumble. It would be better to find out what was wrong with him and then go back for what she needed. Better to know what she was getting herself into.When she reached the shallow water, she could see that this was not a random hiker or a drunken teen. His clothes were not terribly torn, but definitely not the clothes a camper would wear. She pursed her lips together thinking maybe he was one of those medieval recreation group performers. But they’d have registered at the office, she thought. Those groups were always more than thirty people, gathered together to practice with their fake swords. Not one man.He groaned.She touched his forehead. No fever.His eyes opened, and she sucked in a startled breath. He had the most beautiful green
eyes she had ever seen, like two dark emeralds glittering up at her. A wave of tingles spread through her body. High cheekbones and thin lips made him seem exotic, European, maybe Swedish. She swallowed down the rising feeling of attraction. It was unfounded. Get yourself together; he’s hurt.“What happened to you?” she asked.He gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowing in obvious pain. “I came from Valfern…the cave…” His hand shot up; his long fingers circling her wrist in a cinchlike grip. “Tried to fight them off…too many.” His eyes slipped shut again.“Um, yeah. Okay.” She didn’t have time to question whatever nonsense he was trying to explain. There was a large gash on the side of his arm and small splotches of blood on his forehead. She tapped his shoulder, trying to rouse him like she’d done in countless CPR classes. “Are you okay?” No response this time. She reached for her phone to call 911, but her case was empty. “Shit!” she said as she jumped up to look around her and back up the cliff she’d climbed down from. It must be here somewhere, she thought, and started walking toward the rocks.He moaned. She returned her attention to him, and he rolled onto his side.“Oh, hey…you okay?” She went back to him. After sitting beside him, she tested his wound with a gentle touch. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Not deep. She decided she could sew it closed if she could get him up to her Jeep and back to the cabin. “Keldens,” he said. “Chased me into the cave.”“Right.” He’d obviously hit his head pretty hard. She took his hand and placed it over the gash, pushing down. “Keep pressure on it. Let’s see if you can walk.”His eyebrows tensed. “Walk.” He nodded.“Good. Let’s give it a shot.” She looped his other arm over her shoulder and helped him to stand up. He followed without question, a sigh passing over his lips. She looked away from him, her mind turning over how the hell he’d gotten here in the first place. There wasn’t another car on the narrow dirt road she’d driven to get to this place. She scanned the sky and didn’t see any sign of campfire smoke. The guy was alone. No matter how weird it seemed, she had to help him. They started up the rocky path, and with each step, she realized how agile he was. He smelled like the forest, clean, fresh, and wild. The higher they climbed, the more she felt like she was going to be engulfed by his heat. A shiver of fear ran down her spine. She’d get him patched up and call for EMTs to take him in the morning. No need to keep him any longer than necessary.They crested the edge of the cliff. Clouds had gathered in the distance, huge and dark, threatening a storm. “How you doing?” she asked her patient.“Dizzy,” he ground out between clenched teeth.“My car’s down the road. Sit here and I’ll bring it. You shouldn’t walk much with that cut and the bump on your head.” She nodded to a log.He obeyed, eyeing her with what she thought might be distrust or confusion. “What clan are you? Drow?”“Um, look, I don’t know what you’re asking me. I’m gonna help you. I’m from the ranger station.”“A ranger.” He nodded and forced a weak smile. “Good. I’m Ewan of Valfern.”“Shauna.” She pointed at the log. “Stay here.”Hurrying down the road, she tried to reason out what was wrong with him. He wasn’t from around here, which was for sure. Strange clothes. Freaky accent…okay, it’s kind of hot, but still, he’s not from Pinehaven. 


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Author: Crymsyn Hart
Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance
Length: Novella, 30394 words, 86  Pages PDF
Heat Level: Erotic
Warnings: Violence
Valerie dreams of a man who ties her up and pleasures her all night long. When she wakes, his soft caresses follow her.  All she wants is to sink back into her dreams and become his slave. 
Her sister, Niki conjures an evil djinn into their world. James and Valerie must stop the genie before it brings others of its kind into their world.
When her dream master offers a solution to defeat the djinn, Valerie is hard pressed not to take his proposition. If she does, will she be releasing the lesser of two evils?

The scent of cloves and oranges wafted through the room. She turned her face to the perfume and inhaled deeply. The spicy aroma signaled that he wasn’t far behind. Her anticipation level rose. A soft sigh escaped her lips. The warmth of the room put her in a languid state. The velvet of the comforter beneath her caressed her skin. I know he’s coming soon. Is it so horrible to want him to be here sooner? I crave him every second of the day. The bouquet of the citrus and earth drew closer. The increase in the fragrance made her wet. Her heart picked up a few beats. She drew in a breath, savoring the scent. A cold blast of air slid over her body. Her skin prickled from the introduction of his presence in the room. The ache of her expectation wound along her nerves, and it took all she had not to strain against her fetters and mar her skin. He liked her to be perfect every time he came to see her. Bare and naked. Silent and compliant, waiting for him. Always waiting for him. It was always about pleasing him. That was what she had been told since the beginning. That was what she had agreed to. All for him. All because he made her feel like no one had before.
“Hello, lovely one,” he said, purring against her ear.
His hot breath blasted against her neck. A coil of yearning unfurled inside of her. This was what she craved. Her time with him was precious. They had so little of it together. Everything he did only brought her more pleasure. His fingertips trailed over her belly, making her squirm. The tips of his sharp nails pressed into her skin ever so slightly, alerting her to the pain they could cause if he chose. Tonight she hoped he would be gentle. Sometimes he made her scream until her throat was raw from the orgasms he brought her. Other times he would be cruel, winding her tighter and tighter, leading her to the precipice of ecstasy and then leaving her wanting. She hated it when he was cruel, but knew there were times she just had to be punished.
Valerie knew better than to respond to his haunting voice. The last time she did, he had hit her ass with a studded paddle until she cried for mercy. For a moment, the skin of her buttocks burned from the sensory memory of the paddle. The joy of disciplining her was what had made the experience worth it. The pain faded away from her thoughts when he slid his finger over the satin blindfold that obstructed her view of him. The desire to see him gripped her soul. She’d never been permitted to glimpse his face. It was only his touch, smell, and taste that she was allowed. They had agreed, when he started coming to her, that he would be the one to set the rules. He governed her world while they were together. She had consented to all of his requests and never thought twice about it. When they were together, she became his. The only problem was that she never knew when their rendezvous would be.
The bed depressed from his added weight. His body heat warmed her naked flesh. The pad of his thumb glided over her bottom lip. Everything in her ached to suck it into her mouth and taste him, but she remained motionless.
“You remembered. Good girl. Maybe this time I won’t have to beat you.”
Something cold slid along her stomach. Oh God, what is he doing to me? Whatever it is, I don’t want it to stop. He pulled another trail of cold and by the pops and cracks she heard, she figured he was using ice on her flesh. She squeezed her eyes tight under the blindfold, desperately needing to contain the moan building inside of her. The tremors that ran along her muscles were uncontrollable. She grasped the iron bedrails she was tied to for support. Her fingers were beginning to cramp from holding fast. Her back arched off the bed when his tongue lapped at the wet path the ice had left. Another cube circled her nipple, puckering it the faster he rounded the pert pea. The subtle pain caused from the frozen cube numbed her brain but raised her temperature. Beads of sweat slid down her forehead. Her throat was parched.
For an instant, everything stopped. She didn’t sense him. The cold went away. Her heart ceased to beat in that frozen second of time. The air was dead around her. It seemed she was in a bubble of no sensation. What have I done? Where did he go? Why did he leave? She was about to break her silence and call out for her master, but then his body heat rubbed against hers. 

Monday, August 27, 2012

Hell and Damnation- Now available!


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Author: Carolyn Gregg
Genre: Erotic Romantic Comedy
Length: Novella,  18792 Words, 64 PDF pages

What's an incubus to do when he's kicked out of Hell?
Danelius is an incubus. His job is to engage in sex with mortal women as they sleep, drawing them into his snare and condemning their souls. He’s damn good at what he does, and it doesn’t matter that he’s quite proud of the fact that his record is practically spotless. After all, isn’t pride one of the better deadly sins?
But when his last job goes awry, and he subsequently pisses off the Devil, Danelius finds himself in serious straits. For one, he’s kicked out of Hell and ordered to find a pure soul to replace the sinner he lost. For another, he has no place to go and no place to stay.
Stripped of his powers, naked, and freezing his delectable buns off, Danelius suddenly discovers that being mortal hurts. It’s even worse when he’s rescued by Gemma, and soon thereafter realizes he’s falling in love with her.
It's when he discovers the true purpose of his exile that Danelius realizes he no longer wants anything to do with Hell or the Old Man. He wants to remain a mortal with Gemma for whatever time they have left of their lives.
Wonder how well Satan will take the news when he finds out?

“Where did you say you're from?”
“I told you. I'm from Hell.”
The look on her face went from amused to irritated. “Well, unless it’s clearly marked on a map, I’ve never heard of the place,” she commented sarcastically. “Here, I pick you up in the middle of the coldest night we’ve had so far this year, and you don’t even have the decency to tell me where you live?”
He sighed. “I’m telling you the truth.”
“That you came from Hell.”
“To be precise, I got kicked out of Hell.”
“Right,” she nodded. However, her whole body language said just the opposite.
“I’m not lying to you, Gemma,” he insisted, feeding off of her rising anger. “Even though lying in Hell is considered an attribute. But this time I’m telling you the truth!”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “How does a person get kicked out of Hell? I thought people who did wrong went to Hell. Not get thrown out.”
A shudder went through him. Immediately, Gemma reached over to grab the blanket, lifting it back over his shoulders. The look of irritation turned back to concern. “I hope you’re not coming down with anything.”
None of it made sense to him. Not her comments. Not his being here. Not the fact that his body felt like it was no longer his to command. Not the fact that his dick had decided to play hide and seek without his permission. Nothing.
Suddenly, without warning, Danelius sneezed. He blinked in shock afterwards. “What was that?”
“What was what? You mean sneezing?” She reached over and placed a hand on his forehead. “You don’t feel like you’re coming down with a fever, but just in case I’ll give you some acetaminophen. Look, Dan, all kidding aside, is there someone I can call to let them know you’re here?”
He shook his head. “No. No one.”
“Well, it’s late, and the roads are getting worse by the minute. No telling what they’ll be like in the morning.” She gave him another cautious look. “If I let you sleep on the couch tonight, do you promise to be a good boy and not go wandering around the house? I have a can of mace and a baseball bat I plan to keep by my bed tonight, just to let you know.”
Although he had no idea what a can of mace or a baseball bat was, they didn’t sound like they would be pleasant to experience should he breach her confidence.
“I won’t go anywhere,” he told her.
“You promise?” As soon as she’d said the words, Gemma rolled her eyes. “Listen to me. Asking someone who says he's been kicked out of Hell if he’ll keep a promise. But...then again, maybe someone kicked out of Hell would keep a promise. Arrggh!” She shook herself. “Now you almost have me believing your malarkey! Hold on. Stay right there.”
Danelius watched as she left the room, turning to go down the hall instead of heading back into the kitchen. A minute later, she reappeared with a few items.
“You can’t keep running around in your birthday suit. I don’t care who you are. Here.” She handed him a baggy t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. “They might be a bit small on you, but they’re the best I can do in a pinch. At least they’ll help keep you from freezing your butt off. Hey, are you hungry? Would you like for me to fix you a sandwich or something?”
Danelius shrugged. “Am I hungry? I don’t know. I don’t know what hungry is.” He frowned slightly at her. “This is strange to me, being mortal. It’s confusing. And it hurts.”
“Maybe what you need is just a good night’s sleep. I’m bushed myself. Listen, the bathroom is down the hall, first door on the right. I’ll go get you a pillow and another blanket while you get dressed.”
She left, and Danelius took it as his cue to slip on the red sweats and white t-shirt while she was out of the room. When Gemma returned, she gave him an approving smile. “Nice. Not too snug, are they?”
“The waistband.” Lifting up the t-shirt, she slipped a finger inside his pants. The feel of her warm skin on his was an unexpected spark of desire that shot in two directions at the same time, tingling his toes and making his nipples perk up. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to grasp the sensation. Gemma didn’t appear to notice.
“Mmm, the elastic has plenty of give. Good thing you have a flat stomach and slender hips, or else these pants wouldn’t fit. Of course,” she giggled, “you are a tad taller than me.”
He glanced down to see what she was implying. The stretch cuffs circled his calves. He started to say something when she vanished down the hallway again, returning shortly with what looked like stockings.
“There’s no way your feet can fit into a pair of my socks, but these leg warmers should work,” she said as she tossed them at him. “Tomorrow I’ll take you over to the police station, and we’ll let them try and figure out who you are.” She snorted, adding, “Kicked out of Hell. That’s a good one. I have to admit, I haven’t heard that one yet. Gotta hand it to you, Dan. You’re original.”
Monday, August 20, 2012

New- Clockwork Dwarf by Bret Jordan


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 Gustov Stoneheart is an unlikely hero, a dwarf who’s magically torn from friends and family, thrown into a world where magic collides with steampunk. A prophecy predicts that he will bring down the human federation, and they hunt him with a passion. Hiding from them isn’t easy in the federation’s police-state, and Gustov must rethink his deep seated bigotry as orcs, elves, and his own changed kind aid him to make the prophecy come true.


 My name is Gustov Stoneheart, and I'm a dwarf. I have to be honest here at the start; I can't make sense of writing. I can't read it. I can't write it. I ain't writing it now. The elf gave me a confounded machine. I talk into it and it turns my words into writing.
The elf thinks it’s the swellest thing since battle-axes. I’m less impressed.
She says there ain't any magic involved, it's only a machine, but I don't see how that's possible. How could a machine know what I'm saying? If it was catching my words and keeping them to be played back later, I think that would be a machine. Sort of like one of those fancy music boxes that stores…well, music. It could poke dots on a cylinder or something to save my words. I've seen machines do that, so I know they can store sounds. The elf says that this machine will take my rough, dwarven accent and make it proper, for the most part anyway. She says it will show where a thought ends and a new one begins. The elf talked about sentences and paragraphs and such, things I don't know about. "Just talk into the contraption and it will do everything that needs to be done," the elf said. The thing's too smart to be a machine. Smart enough to be magical.
It doesn’t run off steam because it ain't warm and it ain't hissing. The durned thing just keeps clicking as I speak. The faster I flap my gums, the faster it clicks. I don't see any words either. I think I would recognize them if I did.
Runes. I'm familiar with runes. I got one that I forged into my armor. It’s supposed to help protect me. Gave one to my wife on a necklace, in pure gold, that’s supposed to protect her. She also has a belt with a rune that is supposed to make her more fertile. I like young ones. I had one. I wanted more. I also stamped one onto the head of my axe. It’s supposed to help me cleave skulls. They all work, I suppose, though I got no proof other than that I’m still here and had a kid. They ain't magic. The symbols act like magic, but runes are different.
The runes are constant requests to the gods to give us aid, Donnan in particular. When I forged the symbol for protection into my breastplate, it was a sign that Donnan, the war god of the dwarves, would recognize. It lets him know that I'm fighting in his name and I could use a little help in the battle. Same goes for the death rune on my axe. It’s a constant request to Donnan to help me split skulls in his name. So runes aren't magic. They're religious. It's hard for some folks to understand that, but that's the way it is.
Sometimes they work and sometimes they don't. I'm still here and I've split many a skull. The runes didn't work so good for my wife and son. Maybe there ain't any gods. Maybe it's all just coincidence. It ain't for me to decide.
The writing machine doesn't have any runes. It doesn't run on steam, nor can I hear any clockwork or gears. It just clicks along as I speak, quiet when I don't. It's sort of eerie, and I never saw a machine that was eerie before now.
No, this is something different. It stinks of magic.
I hate magic. It's what got me into all this trouble in the first place.
I guess I'm gonna have to take the elf's word on it just being a machine. If I don't take her word on it then my story won't be told and I think it needs to be told so that folks will know that I didn't start the durned rebellion on purpose. I didn’t make the prophecy, nor do much to fulfill it. Anyway, who ever heard of a prophecy where the guy the prophecy’s about ain’t supposed to do nothing? I just did what I did and it happened. I sometimes wonder if I didn’t do what I did if it would still have happened. There weren’t any guidelines, so who’s to know. I just always seemed to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, or the right place at the right time, depending on who you ask. Another coincidence, I suppose.
Time's also what got me into this mess. I wound up far away from where I was meant to be.
I know, it sounds confusing, but it really isn't. Once I get started on my story, it will all come together. I hope it will. I never have been much of a storyteller, but this is what happened.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Purr- Now available!

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Authors: Crymsyn Hart and Anastasia Rabiyah
Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance/ Shapeshifter
Heat Level: Erotic
Warnings: Violence, Multiple Partners

Just when Margaret thought it was safe to get back into the dating game, she meets Cole. Sexy as hell with a magnetism she can’t fight, Margaret gives in to temptation and spends the night with him. It’s when she wakes up that her whole world is turned upside down.
When Kevin discovers his sister, Gail, has been harmed, he rushes to her aid and finds her friend, Margaret, has also suffered the same fate as his sister. His inner tiger yearns to claim Margaret as his own, but also to defend his sister from the man who marked her for a tiger. Cole is their combined enemy and soon the claws will come out and the fur will fly.


Kevin’s fingers slid along my collarbone and eased the fabric of my robe further down my shoulders. Everywhere his flesh touched mine sparked to life.
Yes, there was a connection between us. The more time we were in contact with one another, the stronger it grew. His fingers played over the swells of my breasts. The purring grew louder. So loud it rumbled in my own ears. For a moment, I focused on my body instead of the rising desire between us. There was a vibration in my throat.
Kevin stopped massaging me. I stiffened, and my hands flew to my neck. I opened my eyes and saw the cat padding into the bedroom out of the corner of my eye. The purring had come from me! What the hell is going on with me?
“It’s okay, Margaret. There’s nothing to fear.” Kevin’s hot breath exploded against my ear. “It’s part of the connection between us. Can’t you feel it?” His lips brushed the spot behind my ear. I shivered. He’d hit one of my sweet spots.
“Yes. I feel it.” I twisted around to face him. His green eyes had changed color to a turquoise. His pupils weren’t round anymore; they were oblong. My mind flashed back to seeing my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes had been the same as his. I thought it was all part of my imagination. Part of my screwed weekend that was still haunting me. What the fuck is happening to me? My whole body began to shake. I turned all the way around to face him.
Kevin sat next to me. He took my hands in his. They were burning up. It felt like he had a fever, but his palms were sweaty. Cole had felt the same way. His body temperature was also elevated when he touched me. “There’s no need to be afraid.”
“What’s happening to me?”
He searched my eyes, but said nothing. He leaned in closer to me. My nostrils flared at the masculine scent he gave off, musk and something else I didn’t know the name for. I pulled in a breath through my mouth, and the aroma was heavy. It rested on my tongue before evaporating. The smell had a sweet texture that was hard to describe. Kevin released one of my hands and ran his knuckles down my cheek. I nuzzled it. His skin was silky. I inhaled again. The sweetness was on his hand. My tongue licked his palm. There was a trace of honey on his skin. I grabbed his wrist and began licking the inside of his palm, tasting the sweetness on his skin. The more I licked, the more I tasted. Whatever it was, it was part of him.
A deep groan rumbled from Kevin’s chest. His whole body shook. “You need to stop doing that.” Desire laced his voice.

Heat surged through me. The fear fell away. Whatever was happening to me didn’t matter. My instincts told me the transformation in my body was normal. There was nothing for me to fear. I gave him a devilish smile. I pushed him down against the arm of the couch. I lifted the robe and straddled him. “Why do I need to stop?” Leaning over, I ran my tongue along the line of his throat. His cock pressed hard against the seam of his jeans, straining to free itself. All he had to do was unzip and whip it out, and he’d have access to my already wet pussy. The sweet taste was even stronger along his neck. I nipped lightly, wanting to consume all of him. He tasted so much better than Cole. Why the hell am I thinking about him? He has nothing to do with this.
“You need to stop because the cop is right outside the door."


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