There was only one being with whom she was supposed to mate—but no. She would not allow that reality to spoil the erotic fantasy weaving through her mind.
She had never mated with a man, for it was forbidden. She had heard lusty tales told by her heart-sister Tierra and the tavern wenches, but Liana had never had such an intense desire to experience such a joining—
Until him.
Her belly quivered as she eased one hand down her flat stomach to the tangle of curls between her thighs. Where it was forbidden to touch herself. The place that now ached to be stroked, as though that might ease her wanting of the stranger.
Liana’s tresses moved as an extension of her thoughts, sliding over her naked skin like she imagined the stranger might touch her body. His hands would be slow. Gentle. His mouth would feel hot on her lips, her breasts, her belly, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched.
Burning.
Slipping her fingers between her folds, Liana gasped as she felt the dampness of her desire for the dark stranger. Her other hand continued to knead her nipples as she imagined the man fondling them. Her hair caressed her shoulders down to her hips, and the motion of her fingers grew stronger, more insistent, as she stroked her clit.
But instead of relieving her need for the man, the knot in her belly grew tighter and tighter yet.
She could almost feel the stranger’s stubble, rough against her inner thighs. And his tongue—gods, his tongue—laving at her clit that was building with pressure. Building and building and—
A cry of surprise rose in Liana’s throat and her eyes flew open as the most exquisite sensations rocked through her. Like a flock of startled blackbirds bursting from their roosts amongst the sacred vines. Like moonlight sparkling across the rainbow sands of Mairi.
Her fingers continued, drawing out the intense feelings until her body could take no more.
Liana dropped to her knees and braced her palms against the rush-covered floor, her hair swinging forward to cover her face. Her breasts swayed and her thighs trembled. Her breath came in short gasps as she struggled to overcome the dizziness that threatened to render her boneless.
When she had strength to move, Liana eased onto her haunches. A sound, ever so slight, pierced the haze still shrouding her confused mind. Through her curtain of hair, she glanced up to see an enormous ebony nordai perched on her windowsill, its black eyes focused intently on her—and a sheath was strapped to its powerful leg. The hilt of a dagger jutted out, a ruby glinting on its hilt like a drop of blood.
Ice chilled Liana’s spine.
My gods—what have I done?
* * * * *
Aric sucked in his breath as the Tanzinite maid collapsed to the floor with the strength of her orgasm. He had known he was breaching Liana’s privacy when she had begun to shed her clothing—but he had been too enchanted to move.
And Lord Ir, when she had touched herself, he had nearly come undone. The flushed look of utter surprise and rapture on Liana’s face when she had climaxed had been the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.
It had been all he could do to maintain his nordai form. Gods, how he had wanted to fly through her open window, resume his man’s body and bury his cock inside her, claiming her virgin warmth and taking her until she screamed her pleasure. How he wanted to be the cause of the ecstasy in those sea green eyes.
Forbidden.
She was of the Tanzinites, the cave-dwellers, and he of the Nordain, the Sky People. Never had the two races mated. Never would they.
Forbidden.
This was the woman who had been named to mate with the Sorcerer Zanden, a Nordain traitor. It was a joining Aric was sworn to prevent—by whatever means deemed necessary.
Forbidden.
The maid sat back upon her haunches, her breasts rising and falling with every breath, her flaxen hair shrouding her delicate features. She was a rare Tanzinite, born without wings, banished from the caves at birth and forced to live on Dair’s surface amongst humans and fey folk.
Yet she was perfection. Candlelight danced across her silken skin, as beautiful as a Mairi pearl. Her nipples were the deep rose of the sacred vine’s blossoms. The pale curls between her thighs like sea foam. And her hair, moonbeams spilling in shimmering waves past her hips.
His keen senses caught her scent as it rose up to him through the open window. Liana smelled of jensai blooms and moonlight. And of the passion between her thighs, a nectar of which he desired to drink his fill.
A lustful sound escaped Aric—and the maid’s attention riveted on him. Even through her fine hair, he saw her sea green eyes widen with shock and fear. For a long moment their gazes remained locked, until Aric forced himself to move.
With a mighty flap of his wings, he took to the dark skies, trying to shove the erotic memories of the Tanzinite woman from his mind. He had a task to complete, and that did not include joining with the maid.
Though how in Lord Ir’s name he would keep his hands off Liana, he did not know.
Excerpt… Branded For You
“Riding Tall” series
by Cheyenne McCray
The afternoon was cooling off as it turned to dusk and then darkness descended on them. They each grabbed a light sweat jacket from the camper and slipped them on.
Ryan took a couple of steaks out of the cooler to cook over the fire. Megan sliced the potatoes and wrapped them in foil with butter and seasonings and put them in the coals first. Ryan buttered, salted, and peppered the corn on the cob and wrapped them in foil, too. When it was time, they placed the corn along the edge of the fire. Ryan had cored out the onion and put butter in the center and wrapped it in foil and put it in the coals, as well. The steaks went on last, when everything else was just about finished cooking.
When it was ready, they sat on the camping chairs in front of the fire and ate dinner.
“This is unbelievable,” Megan said with a smile.
Firelight flickered on her pretty features, casting shadows in the darkness as they ate. He thought about what he’d said to her earlier.
“I might be falling for you, Meg.”
He didn’t regret his words. He’d dated a lot of women in the past but there’d just been something missing. Something intangible that he hadn’t been able to name.
He’d never been a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy, but some thought so. He just wasn’t going to hang in there with someone if he knew she wasn’t the right one.
He’d never felt the same way with anyone that he did with Megan.
Last night he’d taken her hard and rough, and the memory caused his groin to ache. Damn she’d been amazing. But she needed to know that he wanted more from her than a night of good, hard sex.
When they finished dinner and had cleaned up, he brought a blanket from the camper and handed it to her before he put out the fire. After he extinguished the fire, he lit a candle within a glass and metal hurricane lantern.
He took her by the hand. “I’ve got something I want to show you.” Her hand was warm in his.
She smiled up at him, her smile causing something deep inside him to stir. He led her into the forest, candlelight from the hurricane lantern lighting the way. The candlelight was much gentler than a regular camping lantern and the shadows from it bounced from tree to tree.
“I saw a place somewhere over here,” he murmured as they walked through the forest then came to a stop. “Here we go.”
A small clearing lay on the other side of a fallen tree, a bed of leaves at the center of the clearing. They stepped over the tree and then he found a sturdy place to set the hurricane before taking the blanket from Megan and spreading it out on the leaves.
He slipped out of his jacket and set it on the fallen tree. “I’ll keep you warm,” he said as he held out his hand.
She looked up at him, slid off her sweat jacket, handed it to him and he set it on top of his own.
He sat on the blanket and beckoned to her. She eased onto her knees beside him and he cupped her face in his hands and lowered his head and kissed her.
Her kiss was sweet and his desire for her kicked into full gear. He wanted to take her hard again, right now. But more importantly, he wanted to show her that it wasn’t only about rough sex with him. It was all about her.
When he drew away from the kiss, her lips were parted, hunger in her pretty green eyes.
“You’re an incredible woman.” He brushed his thumb over her lips, which trembled beneath his touch. “I’ve loved every minute of this weekend.”
“So have I,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “I wish it didn’t have to end.”
“It doesn’t.” He nuzzled her hair that was silky now that it had dried. “When we return, we just pick right back up where we left off.”
She smiled and he kissed her again. She felt so soft and warm in his arms. He slid his hand under her T-shirt, pleased she didn’t have her bra on as he cupped her bare breast and rubbed his thumb over her nipple. He watched her expression as her lips parted and her eyes grew dark with need.
He drew the T-shirt over her head and set it on the fallen tree. Candlelight flickered, gently touching her bare shoulders and chest.
“You know how much I love your body and how beautiful I think you are,” he murmured before stroking her nipples with the back of his hand.
He cupped her breasts, feeling their weight in his hands before he lowered his head and sucked a nipple.
She gasped and leaned back so that her hands were braced behind her on the blanket, her back arched so that he had better access to her breasts. He pressed them together and moved his mouth from one to the other, sucking one nipple before moving his mouth to the other one. Her nipples were large and hard and he loved sucking on them.
“I want you on your back, looking at me.” He adjusted her so that she was lying on the blanket. Her eyes glittered in the light, desire on her features.
He was surprised at how she made him want to go slow with her, to be gentle and show her how much he cared. She stirred things inside him he’d never felt with another woman.
Excerpt… Inked
“Tattoos and Leather” bondage ménage series
by Jaymie Holland
They were here again.
Double Trouble. Two-riffic. Twice Blessed.
Megan Faircloth had a lot of nicknames for the twins, never mind the wicked fantasies they triggered every time they strolled past the room of typists at Dorian International Imports.
She sat in her tiny cubby to the left of the door and forced herself to keep her head turned toward her computer screen. It was no good, though. Her eyes kept darting to the dark-haired gods as they sat on the visitor’s couch near the entrance to the executive suites. She carefully dislodged one of her ear buds so she could hear the men if they said anything.
They never did.
Tall, dark, and handsome—check. Hard, muscular bodies beneath those suits—she’d bet her grandmother’s photograph on it.
And silent as two chiseled stones, they never said a word.
They had to be identical, not just fraternal. They were the same height. They wore the same expensive-looking charcoal suits, and both of them carried dark brown leather briefcases. Their black hair was the same length, cut close, but not too close. They even had the same eyes, blue as sapphires, hard and wary as they scanned the halls before taking iPads out of their briefcases and getting to work.
Megan imagined their Facebook pages. Handsome and Just as Handsome. No, wait. Sexiest Twins on Earth.
They probably had names like Dirk and Rock.
And their Facebook pages would be private anyway. No droolers allowed.
She had no idea why the men had been coming to DII every Friday for the last two months, but she wasn’t complaining. It was the only excitement she’d had in weeks.
Dead-end job. Dead-end life. She sighed and tried again to focus on the letter she was supposed to be typing.
Men like those two would never give her a second look. They were the types to drink champagne with supermodels on private planes jetting to Madagascar, not hang out with administrative assistants who had nothing to offer but curves, freckles, and a big smile.
Megan put her fingers back on the keyboard and corrected a couple of obvious typos. It wasn’t like she planned to spend her life doing office work, but she didn’t have the money to finish college and there was no rich relative to foot the bill. Hell, she barely had the money to make rent. Her roommate, Drew Holloway, kept trying to get her to sign up as a consultant to throw Sweet Sensations parties, but just thinking about doing something like that—heat rose to Megan’s cheeks.
Her eyes drifted from her computer monitor, back to the gorgeous suits and muscles outside her door, and—
Oh, God.
One of them was staring at her.
Her entire body went rigid as Twin One’s blue eyes fixed on hers and held her gaze. Megan’s breathing nearly stopped, and her pulse pounded fast in her throat. Her cheeks had been warm before, but they flamed now, and she felt the hot blush kiss her neck, even her ears. She had never had such a total full-on view of one of the twins, and she noticed something on the left side of this one’s neck. A dark swirl, or some sort of mark. Maybe a thorn?
Was that a tattoo?
Megan’s thoughts instantly rushed to what he would look like with that jacket off and his pressed shirt unbuttoned to show her the full cut of his abs—and the pattern of his ink.
What would a man like that tattoo on his chest?
I’m losing it.
Twin Two slowly raised his eyes from his iPad. Megan’s gaze shifted wildly between the men as they both examined her from foot to knee to hip, and higher. She wished she had worn something sexier than her comfortable khaki skirt and her old short-sleeved pink sweater, but their expressions left little doubt that her clothes hid nothing from them.
And her screaming blush didn’t do much to deny her interest, did it?
Then she realized they had focused on her dislodged ear bud, as if they both knew she had been hoping to eavesdrop on their conversation.