Desire

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

Page 146 of 344 · 20 per page

• From Best Erotic Romance

  God knows how he’d managed not to lose his cowboy hat, but it was now planted firmly on his head. “Just do something for me before I start driving. Spread your legs wide and rub your clit. I want to make you come straight away when I next get inside you.” She slowly opened her legs, aware that he was watching her, his narrowed gaze fixed on her wet sex. She touched her clit and gently circled it with the tip of her finger. “Yeah, that’s good.” His voice was rougher now. “Now slide your little finger in your ass because you know I’m going to fuck you there before we’ve finished tonight.” Jodi swirled her smallest finger in the wetness they’d created and tilted her hips forward so that she could ease the tip of her finger inward through the tight pucker of her ass. She imagined his cock there too, much bigger and more demanding, making her beg him to stop, to never stop, to fuck her until she was hoarse from screaming. The drive hardly seemed to take a minute before he stopped the truck. “Stay here.” Jodi was quite happy to oblige him. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to move ever again. She continued to touch herself until he opened her door and stared down at her. “Christ,” he muttered and bent his head to lick her fingers and clit. She climaxed hard, pushing her sex into his questing tongue. Before she finished coming he picked her up and strode toward a dimly lit building, pausing only to slide the card in the lock and kick the door open with one booted foot. He snapped on the light. The room smelled of dust, bleach, and old carpet but she didn’t care. There was a bed and a bathroom, and that was all they’d ever needed. He laid her carefully on the bed. “I want to see you naked. I never get to see you naked anymore.” She helped him remove her clothes and then he came down over her, his mouth on her breast, one hard thigh between her legs tormenting her already sensitive clit. His fingers slid into her from behind and probed her slick entrance. “Damn, I wish I had two cocks. I want to fill you up.” He kissed her mouth. “Next time, bring your vibrator with you, okay?” “Sure.” If there was a next time...Jodi attacked the snaps on his shirt to reveal every inch of his muscled chest. He didn’t need to go to the gym to work out. Life on a ranch was hard enough. She went to unbuckle his belt, and he caught her hand. “Give me the belt when you’ve taken it off me. I want to try something new.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  He held it above me and I jolted, emitting a soundless squeal, as cold water dripped on to my naked breasts. “Don’t move,” he ordered. “Or I’ll tie you down. Keep perfectly still.” It was almost impossible not to squirm or shield my upper body as each drop fell delicately and with deadly impact onto my stiffening nipples or goosepimpling belly. I balled my hands into fists and tried to hold my breath—one thing I’m very good at—until he relented, poured some warmer water into the basin from a jug and loaded the sponge with soothing suds. They glided over my body, leaving their trail of foam, as Matthew washed me from my neck downward, moving the sponge with loving expertise between and beneath my breasts, round and round the elliptical mound of my abdomen and then onward. “Let’s get you nice and clean,” he said, under his breath as if talking to himself. “And ready. Ready for your treatment.” My pussy hardly needed the sponge to dampen it; his words and his calm, authoritative manner had already set the juices flowing. But he washed between my thighs diligently, moving the sponge closer and closer until it parted my lower lips, dabbing the foam on and around my clit, making it sting just a little bit. I sucked in air and jiggled my hips. “Oh dear. You moved. Legs wider, please, I think we’ll need a little more attention to this area.” I didn’t want more soap on my clit, but I did as I was told, somehow making it through the extra cruel ablutions, though I don’t think I managed to keep as still as he required me to. “I hope I don’t need to tell you,” he said, picking up a razor and beginning to scrape away the three-day growth of hair from my genital area, “that you are forbidden to strain your voice. Any crying out or making a sound will be punished.” I cursed my bedridden horniness. I might have known Matthew would be a terrible doctor. But despite my apprehension, my stomach was curling over and over inside, tautening into a knot of sheer lustful excitement. “Right,” he said briskly, discarding the razor. “On to your stomach.” This was always a dangerous position to be in if you were in Matthew’s vicinity, but I rolled over and presented him with my rear view. The warm soapy water spilled deliciously from my shoulder blades down into the hollow of my back, pooling in the crease of my buttocks. Matthew swabbed away at the cheeks he made such endless use of, wiping them clean and finishing with a deep cleansing sweep of the crack between. I heard the sponge splash back into the basin and then I blanched as Matthew’s fingers kept my bum cheeks spread. “Now, about that fever,” he murmured. “We need to make sure your temperature’s down before we go any further.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  He held it above me and I jolted, emitting a soundless squeal, as cold water dripped on to my naked breasts. “Don’t move,” he ordered. “Or I’ll tie you down. Keep perfectly still.” It was almost impossible not to squirm or shield my upper body as each drop fell delicately and with deadly impact onto my stiffening nipples or goosepimpling belly. I balled my hands into fists and tried to hold my breath—one thing I’m very good at—until he relented, poured some warmer water into the basin from a jug and loaded the sponge with soothing suds. They glided over my body, leaving their trail of foam, as Matthew washed me from my neck downward, moving the sponge with loving expertise between and beneath my breasts, round and round the elliptical mound of my abdomen and then onward. “Let’s get you nice and clean,” he said, under his breath as if talking to himself. “And ready. Ready for your treatment.” My pussy hardly needed the sponge to dampen it; his words and his calm, authoritative manner had already set the juices flowing. But he washed between my thighs diligently, moving the sponge closer and closer until it parted my lower lips, dabbing the foam on and around my clit, making it sting just a little bit. I sucked in air and jiggled my hips. “Oh dear. You moved. Legs wider, please, I think we’ll need a little more attention to this area.” I didn’t want more soap on my clit, but I did as I was told, somehow making it through the extra cruel ablutions, though I don’t think I managed to keep as still as he required me to. “I hope I don’t need to tell you,” he said, picking up a razor and beginning to scrape away the three-day growth of hair from my genital area, “that you are forbidden to strain your voice. Any crying out or making a sound will be punished.” I cursed my bedridden horniness. I might have known Matthew would be a terrible doctor. But despite my apprehension, my stomach was curling over and over inside, tautening into a knot of sheer lustful excitement. “Right,” he said briskly, discarding the razor. “On to your stomach.” This was always a dangerous position to be in if you were in Matthew’s vicinity, but I rolled over and presented him with my rear view. The warm soapy water spilled deliciously from my shoulder blades down into the hollow of my back, pooling in the crease of my buttocks. Matthew swabbed away at the cheeks he made such endless use of, wiping them clean and finishing with a deep cleansing sweep of the crack between. I heard the sponge splash back into the basin and then I blanched as Matthew’s fingers kept my bum cheeks spread. “Now, about that fever,” he murmured. “We need to make sure your temperature’s down before we go any further.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Electric bites of pleasure zapped her nerves, spreading heat and sensation through her. Her hips ground against his hand spastically, graceless, but honest and greedy. Tom continued to press her against the back of the sofa, pulling her skirt up, her panties down. He took his hand from her clit long enough to pull her blouse free of the waistband of her skirt, reaching under it, under her lace bra to her breasts, cupping them as if he weighed them, testing her hard nipples, circling the tips until she panted. He pulled back just enough to turn her away from him, so that his cock bumped her butt. He pinned her, holding her still, and when he took his hands from her, she felt like a boiling pot with the fire suddenly turned off. The crinkle and tear of plastic registered moments before his hands again found her skin, one stroking the curve of her ass, the other stroking up the crack of her pussy, teasing her, spreading her. The stroke of his cock head along her pussy lips nearly shoved her over the edge. Coated in her juices, he pressed into her from behind, his cock thick, hard and gloriously filling. His exhalation bordered on a moan, and with his balls slapping her butt, he paused, buried deep. Joanna drew a constricted breath that barely seemed real. She was doing it. She was getting fucked by Tom Wolburn. Another elevator might arrive at any moment, or someone might emerge from the hall into the lobby, but she was beyond caring. His first few strokes were slow, testing, and amazingly smooth. She savored every inch, her nerves blooming beyond physical stimulation but into something so intense it seemed almost artificial, like some glorious drug that dulled mundane cares and magnified bliss. The beat increased rapidly, his cock splitting her, taking her, marking her, a precise pattern of stretching nerves and tearing lust that left her powerless to do anything other than brace her arms on the seat of the sofa and take it. Her clit bumped and bumped against the edge of the sofa, adding another layer of pleasure and as orgasm rose in her, she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lower lip against the scream so near to utterance. Gold walls melted to crystal. Her ears rang with the scuff of the sofa as Tom’s thrust pushed it into the coffee table. The shudder began at her knees and overwhelmed her body as the orgasm rocketed through her. Her locked elbows buckled, and her face met the back cushion of the couch. She just knew her muffled scream could be heard down in the main lobby. He pulled her back against him and gave three more hard, rapid pumps before he huffed, made a sound that resembled a gurgle, then folded over her, panting into her spine.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Are you okay with that?” I nodded, reaching for the zipper at the side of my dress. “Leave it.” I quirked my eyebrow at him, but I left my dress zipped and walked over to take his hands. The glow from the light turned the glass doors to the balcony into quasi-mirrors, reflecting the room while still letting in the twinkling lights from the marina in the darkness below. Eric slid his fingers up my arms, then he was holding my head to his, his kisses hungry now, still soft but with an underlying desperation that had me quickly running my tongue over the insides of his lips. When I sucked his tongue, he groaned, his hard-on so stiff against me I felt my juices trickling down my thigh. “Undo my pants,” he growled, one hand sliding down to cup my breast. As I tugged his zipper down, the side of my dress parted. His hand was against my bare skin, stroking a trail of fire. His belt clunked to the floor, and his bare hip was against my hand. No underwear. I hadn’t expected any. “I can’t wait,” he growled against my lips. “Now,” I panted. “Hurry.” I reached for the condom and met his hand. “I’ll do it. If you touch me, I’ll come.” He stepped out of his pants and sheathed himself, breaking the kiss again to move in back of me. He sat and pulled me to straddle him, my back to his chest, my thighs spread wide over his, the open slit in my panties exposed. My skirt fell between us as he lowered me onto his lap. “We have a problem,” I laughed breathlessly. “No problem,” he panted. The silk of my skirt rasped against my pussy lips as he ground me against the hot flesh of his erection. His groan was long and loud. I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of him lowering the top of my dress, of him lifting my breasts out of their confinement to rest on top of the blasted Wonderbra, the cool air helping his talented fingers tease my nipples to rock-hard peaks. “Look at the window.” Oh, my God. Our full-length reflections gazed back at us from the long sheet of glass. My head rested against Eric’s shoulder, his face visible next to mine, my chest arched forward displaying my bare breasts where he toyed with my nipples. I balanced on my heels as his other hand slowly teased my skirt up, over my thighs, over the tops of my stockings. Higher. “Christ.” Eric’s hand shook as he raised the shimmering red silk past the lace-framed, neatly trimmed thatch guarding my pussy lips. His fingers spread the sopping lace, slid between the slick, swollen folds, through the glistening dark pink slit to delve deep into my pussy. “Fuck. Now! I need you now!

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  had been plaguing him for months. He was impatient to move on to a bigger stage and shake the foundations of Hollywood. This restlessness had been the story of his life. He had begun his career at ABC, and never settling too comfortably within one department, after nine years of various promotions he had risen to the position of head of prime-time programming. But television began to seem small and constricting to him. He needed a larger, grander stage. In 1976 Barry Diller—a former boss at ABC and now the chairman of Paramount Pictures—offered him the job of heading Paramount’s film studio, and he jumped at the chance. Paramount had long been in the doldrums, but working with Diller, Eisner transformed it into the hottest studio in Hollywood, with a string of remarkably successful films— Saturday Night Fever , Grease , Flashdance , and Terms of Endearment . Although Diller certainly played a part in this turnaround, Eisner saw himself as the main driving force behind the studio’s success. After all, he had invented a surefire formula for creating profitable films. The formula depended on keeping costs down, an obsession of his. To do so, a film had to begin with a great concept, one that was original, easy to summarize, and dramatic. Executives could hire the most expensive writers, directors, and actors for a film, but if the underlying concept was weak, all the money in the world would be wasted. Films with a strong concept, however, would market themselves. A studio could churn these relatively inexpensive films out in volume, and even if they were only moderate hits, they would ensure a steady flow of income. This thinking went against the grain of the blockbuster mentality of the late 1970s, but who could argue with the undeniable profits Eisner had generated for Paramount? Eisner immortalized this formula in a memo that soon spread around Hollywood and became gospel. But after so many years of sharing the limelight with Diller at Paramount, trying to please corporate CEOs, and pushing back against marketing directors and finance people, Eisner had had enough. If only he could run his own studio, unfettered. With the formula he had created and with his relentless ambition, he could forge the greatest and most profitable entertainment empire in the world. He was tired of other people piggybacking on his ideas and success. Operating on top and alone, he could control the show and take all the credit. As Eisner contemplated this next critical move in his career that summer of ’84, he finally settled upon the perfect target for his ambitions—the Walt Disney Company. At first glance, this would seem a puzzling choice. Since the death of Walt Disney in 1966, the Walt Disney film studio seemed frozen in time, getting weirder with each passing year. The place operated more like a stodgy men’s club. Many executives stopped working after lunch and spent their afternoons in card games, or would lounge about in the steam room

• From Best Erotic Romance

  The kiss was tentative, which was so unlike him that she almost drew back. But the taste of him, which she’d almost forgotten until now and had never stopped missing, was almost too much to bear, and she couldn’t pull away. It was that, she guessed, that emboldened him. When she responded, his touch grew more sure. He drew her in and she went willingly, the feel of his tongue against hers triggering the warm glow of arousal that she knew would soon smolder, ignite, and finally consume her. So familiar, and yet so foreign. Each step along the unlit path brought back hints of remembrance, like sweet déjà vu. She traced his biceps, ran her hands down his back, feeling the muscles flex. He bit gently on her lower lip, and she gasped, the thrill streaking down between her legs. She was already wet, wetter even than when she’d masturbated earlier. His touch had always done that to her. How had she gone so long without this? He grazed his teeth along the line of her throat as she plucked at his shirt buttons. She didn’t get all of them, but she couldn’t wait any longer, splaying her hands across his smooth chest, lightly tracing her nails over his nipples until he groaned. He took one of her hands and guided it down to his crotch, pressing her palm against the bulge there, showing her just how excited she made him. Her clit shivered in response. Fleetingly, she wondered where this was leading. Oh, to sex, obviously, but wasn’t sex with your ex supposed to be anathema? Tacky, even? (Not that he was her ex just yet, but as good as.) She ignored that thought, pushed away all thoughts. They didn’t matter. What mattered was his hands and lips and tongue on her, and her hands and teeth on him, and the need they shared. He tugged her shirt free and pulled it over her head, and by the time he’d tossed it away she had already made good headway toward removing her bra, popping the front hook and shrugging out of it. His eyes were dark in the candle flame, but she could imagine the hunger in them before he dipped his head to suckle. So good. She arched her back in response as he teased her, drawing each bud between his lips, flicking with his tongue, biting just enough to make her squirm and beg. Beg him not to stop. Beg him for more. She dipped a hand between her legs, under her panties, and soaked her fingers, then spread the moisture on her nipples for him to savor. “So sweet,” he murmured. “Bella…I have to taste you for real.” They didn’t even bother removing her long, loose skirt. She hiked it up while he slid the now-useless panties over her hips, down her thighs. The scrape of the lace against her skin was almost more than she could bear.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  “You gonna order me around all night?” “I think so,” he murmured. “Seein’ as how it turns you on.” He traced a finger down the lace, right between my folds. He couldn’t miss the moisture soaking through the satin. When he popped his finger in his mouth for a taste, I pushed my panties down the rest of the way and then waited as he looked me over. Danny traced down the edges of my nude outer lips. “Did you do that for me?” I shook my head. “I prefer it.” “Spread ’em open for me.” I reached down and opened my lips and held them that way while he fingered the thin inner labia and pushed a long thick digit inside me. My pussy clenched around him, then released. Then squeezed again. A trickle of moisture greeted his invasion, and he quickly pulled out and sat up in the small, cramped space beside me to tug his shirt over his head. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them past his hips. Just far enough to free his cock, which sprang free, lifting toward the ceiling of the cab. I didn’t wait for him to tell me what he wanted, he was too tight, too quiet, his breaths coming fast. I climbed over his knees and curled down to take him in my mouth. His fingers combed through my hair, then framed my face. I bobbed down, my lips suctioning, latching around his crown to suckle hard, my tongue swirling over and over his soft, sleek head. I found the slit, teased it with the point of my tongue, then swirled again, sinking down his cock to take more of his length, caressing the sides of his thick shaft with my long, slippery glides. His hand fisted in my hair and pulled me off. “Thought this was supposed to be your fantasy.” “Think I haven’t thought about doing this? What it would feel like? How thick, how long it would be? I’m just gettin’ acquainted.” “Damn. Come on up here.” I started to crawl up his body, sliding my chest over his belly, but he shook his head. “No, sit that bare-nekkid pussy over my mouth.” I pressed my lips together to keep the laughter trapped. “Not cool enough?” he gritted out. “It sounded sort of cheesy.” “Didn’t I say it with enough snarl?” “Just the right snarl if you were The King.” “Who?” “Never mind,” I muttered. Baby. “I mean it. You got close and personal with me, turnabout is fair play. Bring it on up here, girl.” “I’m not a girl,” I said, pushing out my lower lip. He rolled his eyes. “Will you stop with the age thing? I want that pussy on my mouth.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  He guided her head toward his shaft, and she took him deep and sucked hard. His hand fisted in her hair, and he rolled his hips in tandem to her sucking. “That’s good, honey.” He murmured, his voice turning her on even more. From the corner of her eye, she saw him wrap the end of the belt around his hand. He jerked the leather, sending a jolt of sensation running back along her pussy to her bound wrists. He pulled on the belt again making her moan and writhe against the friction. She wasn’t sure whether the sensation was painful or pleasurable, but she didn’t care anymore. There was no shame in this. It was all about giving each other what they both so desperately needed. His hand tightened in her hair. “We’re running out of time. Let go of my cock and get on your hands and knees.” Reluctantly Jodi released him, and he helped her turn onto her hands and knees, her wrists still bound with his belt, her ass arched toward him. She shivered as the belt fell away from her sex and at least four of his fingers slid into her pussy. “Please.” She whispered. “Fuck my ass, please.” His laugh was low and desperate. “Do you have lube in that purse? Otherwise it’ll just be my cock and it’ll be rough.” “I’d take you that way,” Jodi said. “You know that, but I do have lube.” He reached for her purse, opened it, and let the contents fall haphazardly onto the bed. “Got it.” Jodi waited in trembling anticipation as he prepared himself and then slid a well-lubed finger into her ass and moved it back and forth. He bent over her, his mouth close to her ear. “I’m a bastard. I like fucking you when you’re not completely turned on. I like having to gain every inch and how you can’t stop getting all wet around me anyway.” He added another finger and then another, widening her for his cock, and she simply closed her eyes and enjoyed every moment. Sure, she’d be sore tomorrow, but at least she’d have lived a little and escaped her normal boring life. He pulled his fingers out, and she felt the broad head of his cock probe her tight bud. He eased himself inside her, whispering encouragement, sharing every filthy, loving thought he had about how she felt and how hard he was going to fuck her when he was finally inside her. And he did fuck her—until she was screaming his name and he pinched her clit so hard that she couldn’t breathe and couldn’t see for the pleasure. After a short while, and a visit to the bathroom, she managed to undress him completely and ride his cock again until he was the one begging and pleading with her never to stop.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Answer the question.” A long pause. “A place where a man can think through every mistake he made. A place where a man can learn to use his voice like a tape recorder. A place where a man can taste a steak in his mind while scraping scraps of rotten rice up in his fingers. Learn all the things that got past him when he was busy being an idiot fool.” Sarah’s knees pressed tighter to Dave’s hip. She traced her fingers on his thick shoulder. “Where?” Spoken softly, “Vietcong prison camp.” “Sorry, that must have been—” “It’s going to be a magnificent sunrise.” Dave reached toward her face and waited. She nodded and he stroked her full cheeks, then traced her slim lips with his rough thumb. He whispered, “I may not be looking at that sun when it comes. You’re too beautiful.” Sarah started to cover her smile, didn’t, and rested her head on his shoulder. She lifted her mouth to Dave. After a pause, Dave dipped his sweet-salty tongue in her mouth. He traced her teeth, then the bottom of her tongue, then around the top. “You taste so fine, Sarah.” She’d never felt a kiss so deep in her body. “May I?” Sarah nodded toward the sleeper behind them. “Make yourself at home.” She kicked off her shoes and crawled in. She reached for the tie at her waist. “Remember? I said there would be a prize.” He grabbed her hand fast. “That’s more’n a prize.” The way he looked at her, the way he said it, made it hard for her not to gasp. It was the time of free love, sexual liberation, and cast in that light, this was a prize, pure and simple. She was sure of it, right up to the moment. She let go of the bow and relaxed her hand into his. “So you never had, just sex for the fun of it, Dave?” Dave looked out the front of the cab at the growing strip of light. “That’s none of your business.” “You have.” “Appetites go strong when a man ain’t fed. Sometimes it’s hard not to gorge. Don’t make it right, and the bellyache after tells you so.” Sarah reached her hand back in the cab and turned his face toward her. “I want to gorge, bellyache be damned.” She reached for the tie again. He didn’t stop her. She unbuttoned her dress. It fell open. Dave cleared his throat. Sarah reached into the cab and tried to turn his face to her. He held fast. “You know, we’re in Winnemucca. This is where we…go our separate ways.” “I know.” She shook her shoulders. The dress fell away to fully expose her bright white bra and panties. “Ever made love in a sunrise?” Dave shook his head. “Can’t says I have.” “Then you ain’t lived, Dave.” She pulled his chin again. Now he looked. His eyes roved up and down her hungrily. “Oh lord.” “Join me.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Paul didn’t go further than that; he simply rested his finger on that sensitive button as he cupped her mound lightly. Staring into Brynn’s eyes, Paul could see the war Brynn fought with herself. Uncomfortable in her own skin, she hadn’t let Paul touch her like this in months. Paul longed to make love to her, but he wouldn’t push her. He would let Brynn decide. Brynn didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. She sunk down in the lukewarm water and covered Paul’s hand with her own. She pressed his finger hard against her pussy, letting out a soft moan when Paul took the lead and rubbed her clit. It was something so simple—hardly the stuff of an earthshaking sexual experience—but Brynn’s acquiescence sent a rush of heat through Paul. He wanted Brynn. Now. He wanted to fuck her the way he had before they’d gotten pregnant. He wanted to feel Brynn’s body grinding against his, both of them slick with sweat and so aroused they couldn’t get enough of each other. He pressed a finger just inside Brynn’s pussy, feeling the heat and wetness there, so different from the tepid bath water. Brynn gasped, gripping Paul’s wrist tightly and wriggling beneath his touch until water splashed over the side of the bathtub. “Easy, baby,” Paul soothed. “I’ll give you what you want.” Brynn looked at him, blue eyes heavy-lidded with lust, her expression one of complete trust. “I know you will.” Paul slid his finger deeper, feeling Brynn’s muscles reflexively tighten around her. “Been practicing your Kegels, I see,” he said. Brynn giggled and nodded. “Yeah.” “Good girl.” Paul slipped another finger inside her wetness, curving them up and forward to rub that rough spot he knew so well. “How’s that?” “Oh!” Brynn exclaimed, sloshing water over the edge of the tub as she took Paul’s fingers inside her. “Yesssss!” Paul’s clothes were soaking wet at this point, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was making Brynn feel good. He twisted his fingers inside Brynn’s pussy, feeling the slick wetness of arousal. It fueled his own desire, coaxing his passion beyond gentleness. He tweaked one of Brynn’s nipples between his fingers, delighting in the damp, rubbery texture of the skin beneath his touch. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he said, barely recognizing his own voice. Brynn cupped her full breasts, head thrown back against the side of the tub. “Fuck me with your fingers,” she whispered. “I need to come.” Her words drove Paul to the edge. He added a third finger inside Brynn’s swollen pussy, filling her. He laced his fingers together and made a twisting motion as Brynn’s muscles clenched down on him. He didn’t want to be gentle anymore, wasn’t even sure that he could. He just wanted to fuck Brynn—hard. He looked into Brynn’s half-closed eyes, searching for approval. “Are you sure you can take this?” Brynn nodded. “Oh yeah. I want it. Do it.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  His reaction made her smile. “Felt like getting an early start.” A broad, blond mustache covered his upper lip, slightly unkempt, and his cheeks were full. His hair was short, and he had a deep cleft in his broad chin. A waitress in her mid-thirties approached. She was kind of pretty in thick black-cat glasses. She had an Olive Oyl body that she carried with strange grace. “Well, as I live and breathe. How ya been, Dave darlin’?” His soft accent begat a warm drawl. “I been good Mary Jo. How ’bout you?” “Well, just dandy. Ain’t seen ya in ages.” “I had a run o’ work up and down California. Good to be on the east to west again. The folks is nicer.” He winked. Mary Jo pushed her pencil through her bright blonde hair, piled high enough to stretch a five-foot-seven frame to over six feet. “You want the usual, hon?” “You know what I like!” Mary Jo turned to Sarah. “And for your lady friend here?” “Just acquaintances. A cup of coffee, two poached eggs, and dry toast. Separate checks, please.” Mary Jo popped her gum. “Sure thing, hon.” She walked away. “That’s some plain eatin’, little lady.” Dave lifted his brow. “I like it fine.” Sarah felt a little defensive. She eyed Mary Jo. “Old friend?” “You meet a lot of people on the road. Some real fine people.” Dave’s eyes locked briefly on the waitress. “Your friendship extends beyond ham and eggs.” “Were that true, it would be none of your concern, little lady.” “My name’s Sarah, not ‘little lady.’” “Well, you ain’t big, Sarah.” Sarah collapsed her fingers over a swelling smile. “I’m a little chubby.” “You’re built like a woman.” Sarah pursed her lips. “You don’t like being a woman?” “I like being a woman just fine.” “Where you headed, little…Sarah?” “Idaho.” “Big place. Any spot in particular?” “Nampa.” “Nice town. I can take you as far as Winnemucca.” Dave pointed to a new, bright red Peterbilt semi with a sleeper outside the diner. Sarah had planned to find a Travelodge and a garage in the morning. But she was near broke; that’s why she was going back. It wouldn’t be her first hitchhike. “You think my car’s bad?” “It ain’t good.” Sarah knew it was true. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take that ride.” She eyed the big omelet with home fries and toast with cherry jam that Mary Jo set down in front of Dave. “I can pay.” She picked at her carefully chosen breakfast. Between orderly but ravenous bites from his plate, he said, “For what?” “The ride.” “No point. I’m already going that way.” When they left, Dave held the passenger door of his truck open. Sarah paused until he walked away from it. She climbed up and closed the door.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  We laughed and proceeded to feast while Teresa kept our glasses filled. Soon I didn’t mind the raging blizzard outside at all. Somehow the talk turned to sex, and I felt just like I did back in college when my roommate and I talked in hushed tones about blow jobs and such. Excited and not just a little embarrassed. When the second bottle of bubbly was uncorked, we moved closer to the woodstove. I spread one of the extra blankets on the floor, not sure why, but the carpet seemed cold and I was wanting cozy. As I tossed pillows from the sofa around the blanket, Teresa brought the bottle and the Whoopie pies over. For awhile we sat quietly sipping, aware there’d been a transition in mood as well as location. Teresa was the one to break the silence, of course, and she broke it with a sledgehammer. “Have you guys ever had sex with someone else?” I was dumbfounded, and for some reason first focused on the fact that Teresa always said “guys” even when she was referring to a group of all women. I wasn’t sure why she was asking, since she and I had talked a little about what our sex lives had been like before we’d gotten married. Tim stuttered out, “Well, of course we weren’t the first for each other.” “No, I mean have the two of you together ever had sex with someone else? You know. A threesome.” I decided that we must all be officially drunk now. Tim’s mouth was literally hanging open in that cartoon kinda way with his glass paused in midair. Oh great, I thought, he had been a good sport up to now, but I knew he was uncomfortable talking about sex and knew I’d hear about it later. But when he finally answered, I heard something new in his voice, and I watched in astonishment as he said, “No, we haven’t, not yet. Are you offering?” Was I hearing correctly? Had I had too much champagne? Had he? That’s when I saw Teresa looking at me intently, and I remembered how I felt when she stood at my shoulder by the stove. Oh shit. She was serious! Teresa laughed and poured us more champagne and unwrapped the Whoopie pies. I was glad of the chocolate cake and sticky sweet filling to distract us for awhile but couldn’t help but notice my arousal. I kept stealing glances at her, noticing her body as if for the first time. It’s not like I’ve never thought about being with a woman, but it was always in the abstract. I’ve never actually contemplated touching a woman’s body in a sexual way, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it now.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  But, I wanted more. I pulled him up so I could look at him, and he was smiling like a very happy boy. “Blakey, please stop teasing me. I need you.” “Sorry, but it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to do this. You’ll give me a little latitude, won’t you?” He was half on top of me, kissing me deep on the mouth. His fingers danced over my taut nipple, barely grazing over it. His hand seemed so big gripping my hip, pulling me close. My hands cradled his face as I tried to hold on to the moment for as long as I could. I ran my finger over his mouth, and he caught it between his lips, sucking it into his mouth. My stomach rolled over, and a new wash of heat ran through me. His face dropped from my hands, and he kissed down my neck. Every inch of my skin caught on fire, each little kiss, lick starting a new blaze. I clawed at his hair, urging him forward, pushing him further down my body. But, again, Blake would not be rushed. His mouth again latched on to my nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth, flicking it over and over with his tongue. Arching my back, I tried to get more. All I could think was that I needed more. More of anything that Blake wanted to give to me. The heat of his mouth was joined by his slow, tracing fingers moving up my thigh. I could feel the gentle tremble of my leg under his touch every time he got nearer to my pussy. He seemed to be purposefully avoiding my most sensitive skin, teasing me with little touches everywhere else. He pushed my legs apart, and I felt his fingers moving closer and closer to my cunt. Moans were escaping my throat, his mouth moving back and forth over my nipples, teasing one and then the other until I was ready to scream. “Blake, I can’t take much more of this.” “Just a little bit longer, I promise.” His mouth covered mine, stopping any more words from getting out. His finger had finally found my slick heat, and my hard clit was sliding under his soft touch. The small circles teased my clit until I found my hips moving along, trying to get Blake to go faster. But, he kept going at the maddeningly slow pace, his eyes watching my face. “God, you are so beautiful when you are excited, do you know that?” I could only manage to shake my head no, as no words were possible at that moment. His words were tearing at my brain, making my chest flush with renewed heat. His finger slipped down past my clit and entered me, opening my pussy up for the first time. The flat of his palm grazed my clit, with each slide in and out. “Open your eyes. Please, Daisy, open your eyes.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  His laugh was low and desperate. “Do you have lube in that purse? Otherwise it’ll just be my cock and it’ll be rough.” “I’d take you that way,” Jodi said. “You know that, but I do have lube.” He reached for her purse, opened it, and let the contents fall haphazardly onto the bed. “Got it.” Jodi waited in trembling anticipation as he prepared himself and then slid a well-lubed finger into her ass and moved it back and forth. He bent over her, his mouth close to her ear. “I’m a bastard. I like fucking you when you’re not completely turned on. I like having to gain every inch and how you can’t stop getting all wet around me anyway.” He added another finger and then another, widening her for his cock, and she simply closed her eyes and enjoyed every moment. Sure, she’d be sore tomorrow, but at least she’d have lived a little and escaped her normal boring life. He pulled his fingers out, and she felt the broad head of his cock probe her tight bud. He eased himself inside her, whispering encouragement, sharing every filthy, loving thought he had about how she felt and how hard he was going to fuck her when he was finally inside her. And he did fuck her—until she was screaming his name and he pinched her clit so hard that she couldn’t breathe and couldn’t see for the pleasure. After a short while, and a visit to the bathroom, she managed to undress him completely and ride his cock again until he was the one begging and pleading with her never to stop. She lay sprawled over him, her eyes half-closed, and listened to the steady beat of his heart. The shrill tones of her cell phone had her reaching instinctively for her purse. As she scrabbled to find her cell on the messed-up bed, the screen lit up and Jodi’s stomach did a peculiar flip. Before she could answer the phone, it was plucked from her grasp. “Why the hell is he calling? Can’t we get any peace?” Jodi tried to grab the cell back, but it was too late. “What’s up, Mikey?” She tried to understand the excited chatter on the other end of the line, but it was too fast. His face softened and he raised his eyebrows at her. “Do you want to speak to Mom?” He handed her the phone and lay back down on the pillows, his expression resigned. “What’s up honey?” Jodi asked. “The babysitter wants to know if I can play Dark Warriors in Peril. Can you tell her its okay?” “Is that why you called, Mikey?

• From Best Erotic Romance

  The action enabled his finger to move lower, and within moments he had her panties pulled to one side and his finger had eased inside her. “Oh yes, that’s really good,” she blurted when the hard digit slid inside her. She clutched it eagerly, and her upper body rested back against the chair. She pivoted on her hips, moving against his finger, her shoulders leaning against the knobs of the cooker at her back. “Eat something,” he whispered, nodding over at the table. Cassie dipped her finger along the edge of her plate, then took it to her mouth and sucked the spicy sauce from it, watching him as she did so. The spices ran along her taste buds once again, making them tingle and spark. Her entire skin kindled, and her nipples chaffed against her dress. Her core clenched rhythmically, and the hard length of his fingers in there felt even better than before. “Oh, you’re good!” “I’ll have you know I take my research very seriously.” He got the comment out then groaned and peered down at her pussy as it clutched at him. “You’re amazing,” he added. Cassie rocked her hips, riding his fingers. What she really wanted was his cock, and she could tell by looking at him that he would be ready and willing. “Didn’t you say you had dessert?” “Yes, tropical fruit marinated in amaretto.” She purred aloud and gyrated, getting hornier by the moment. “Why don’t you feed it to me while you’re inside me…?” She let that suggestion hang between them. A moment later, understanding lit his expression. He removed his fingers, reached over to the fridge and pulled out a large, covered dish. As he did so Cassie caught sight of the bulge in his jeans. There was no doubting his state of readiness, and she quickly stripped her G-string off, ready—oh so ready—for more of everything. Samuel clutched the bowl in one hand, the other closing over her bared pussy. There was a possessive look in his eyes. He squeezed her, as if he was testing her for ripeness. Then he lifted a piece of juicy mango from the bowl and held it out to her mouth. She took the offering, licking his fingertips as she did so. He nodded, smiling. The texture and flavor was like a seductive dance on her tongue, the juicy fruit making her own juices flow all the more. “You make me feel greedy.” Samuel’s eyes had grown hooded, and the smile that played around his mouth made him even more attractive. “You make me feel lucky.” He was clutching the bowl as if he was afraid of what he might do if he let go of it. It made her chuckle. “Put the bowl down on the table, and give me something harder.” She nodded down at his groin. Samuel didn’t seem to need to assess the risk of this potential action.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  I’ve been hoping you’d ask me over.” He wanted to lift her into his arms and cart her off to the bedroom to celebrate. As if she knew what he was thinking, she gave him a mischievous smile. “I’m not embarrassing you, am I?” she asked, as he tried to casually shift his food around on his plate. A sultry, suggestive look took up residence on her face and her lips glistened. How was a man supposed to think about food when she was given him such an obvious green light? The woman he’d dreamed of getting close to for the past several weeks was practically stating they were going to have sex. “I appreciate your directness.” Samuel put his fork aside. He didn’t want to eat. He wanted to bask in her presence. “And I appreciate your cooking, among other things,” she responded, and chuckled. The sound was earthly and sensuous, like everything about her. “I’m flattered.” He truly was. She ate the food as if it was heavenly, as if it was the best meal she ever had and she was with the man she wanted to be with. Did she know how that was affecting him? Samuel had his suspicions. There was a playful look in her eyes, and she seemed to be assessing him in some way. That made his temperature rise. “This is why they always put me on the advertising accounts for food products, at work,” she explained. “It’s the flavors, they set my imagination on fire.” Her gaze drifted over him. The conversation was making his blood head south, but he wasn’t complaining. “I can see the sense in that,” he murmured. “I’ll let you in on a secret.” She leaned forward, conspiratorially. “I think my taste buds are one of my most powerful erogenous zones.” There was absolutely no mistaking the naughty look in her eyes. Lifting his eyebrows, he said, “Oh, is that the case?” “Uh huh. When it’s a meal I really like, and I love spicy food, it really turns me on.” Samuel stared across at her as the implications slid fully into place. His inquisitive mind began to delve deeper, wondering to what extent that arousal manifested. Did she get wet? Did she want full-on sex as a result of it? The questions evaporated when Cassie held his gaze and reached for her fork, lifting another mouthful of Thai green curry. He watched as her glossy lips moved appreciatively while she ate the food. Another long mmm soon followed. He noticed then how she moved against the chair she was sitting on—it was a very real physical response. His erection built when he wondered what it would be like to have her sit on his lap while she ate—what it would be like to feed her himself. “My ex-husband hated it,” she added. “It’s a wonder we lasted nine years together.” She chuckled again. “Seriously?”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Convincing the Mondego to carry his microbrews had been his first toehold in Vegas. The resort’s contract funded his biweekly trips to pitch his product to other establishments in the area, which in turn had allowed him to have Robin for a year. His weekends with her had been the most valuable and treasured blocks of time in his life. Until four months ago, when he’d fucked up and lost her. Tossing some bills on the bar, Paul vacated his barstool and carried his beer out to the elevators. He’d left flowers for Robin with the front desk, along with his room number in a note. Although he knew she must have checked in yesterday, she hadn’t contacted him. He’d tried to convince himself that she was busy getting ready for the jewelry trade show that opened today in the hotel, but that look she’d just shot him proved the lie. His only consolation was that she wasn’t indifferent to him. He could only hope that meant she wasn’t totally over him. He’d take whatever he could get from her right now—an argument, a slap to the face, anything at all. As long as it gave him the opportunity to say what needed to be said. He was stepping into the elevator when he smelled her. Inhaling deeply, Paul pulled the fragrance of vanilla and something flowery deep into his lungs. Awareness sizzled down his spine and fisted his balls, his dormant sexual needs stirring after months without her. He hit the button for his floor, then moved to the back of the car and turned around. As Robin took up a position beside him, anticipation thrummed through his veins. He briefly wondered what excuses she’d made to her companion, then he pushed the thought aside. He didn’t give a shit. The only thing that mattered was that she’d followed. An elderly couple and three suit-clad gentlemen entered the car and faced the doors. As the elevator began its ascent, Robin balanced on one stiletto, drawing Paul’s gaze. He watched as she pushed her underwear down, pulling one leg free and then the other. Jesus. His dick throbbed with eagerness and fantasies of stepping behind her, lifting her dress, and pushing into her right there filled his mind. A soft ding signaled the first stop. The businessmen got off and four teenagers in bathing suits got on. Training his gaze straight ahead, Paul reached over and slipped his hand inside the overlapping front of Robin’s dress. She sidestepped closer, putting him slightly in front of her, inviting his touch. He cupped her baby-soft hairless pussy, his fingers curling between her legs and finding her hot and damp. His dick swelled further, and he finished his beer to hide a telling groan. The car stopped again and the elderly couple exited.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  The pulse of arousal that blasted her core nearly brought her to her knees—not that the vantage of her face level with his crotch would have been unwelcome, but she still wanted to keep some level of dignity. “After you, sir,” she said, her throat dry even as her cunt continued to slick. He grinned, a lopsided expression that constricted her heart. He put his arm around her waist and walked to the elevator. Joanna glanced at the front desk. Martin, the college kid they’d hired that spring, was staring at her as if she were a three-headed alien. All she could do was smile. Tom’s room was on the top floor. They had the elevator to themselves and, when the doors closed, their bodies merged. His mouth devoured her, tongue insistent, hot, demanding, tangling with hers, suppressing it, dominating it even as she grappled with him, losing herself in the sensations his kiss invoked. She felt the heat of his body in one long, glorious line of firm muscle and strength. His cock pressed hard into her thigh, and she could not wait to have it in her. He pushed her against the back of the elevator, pulling up her skirt, greedy fingers stroking her thighs, finding her panties, and sliding beyond the thin lace to her soaked pussy. He groaned, his kiss deepening further, and Joanna answered his arousal by gripping his ass, longing for the firm flesh to be free of his trousers. Boxers or briefs, what would it be? The chime rang almost mute beneath their panting and groping, but when the doors opened, Joanna moaned against Tom’s mouth, pushing him toward the gate, closer to fulfillment. His fingers circled her clit. The suction of the kiss broke as she pushed him, grinding her hips against his hand, gasping for air. He stepped back, their dance made of steps banned by Arthur Murray. His heel caught on the metal lip of the elevator as they stumbled back, balance completely lost until his thighs hit the back of the sofa in the elevator landing. Golden wallpaper with subtle fleur-de-lis appliqués rose to a ceiling dominated by a tasteful, frosted light fixture. Several other upholstered chairs, end tables, and two huge vases filled with fresh flowers furnished the little lobby. He spun, a final effort to save both of them a tumble over the couch back. When Joanna’s butt hit the top of the sofa she welcomed the full weight of him, the momentum of their fall pressing him harder into her. Her lips found his again, ravenous, drawing his flesh into her even as his fingertips stroked the folds of her pussy and slid easily into her.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  He waited outside the door for me and, on my exit, he took me by the shoulders and steered me back to the bed. “Since you can’t be trusted to do as you’re told,” he said, “perhaps I need to tie you to the bed. Hmm? Should I?” “No,” I whispered. “I’ll ask next time.” “You’ve got your phone. If I’m in another room, just send me a message.” “I will.” I collapsed into the blankets again and let them take me into their too-hot embrace. For two days I languished, but on day three, I began to rally. My voice was still more like that of a pubescent boy than a professional soprano, and my head still felt stuffed with wadding, but my spirits made a brisk reentry, and so did my libido. I picked up the mobile phone and began to text. I knew that Matthew was composing in the other room, but he’d had two uninterrupted days with his muse. Surely she could spare him for a little while. “I need a doctor,” I wrote, and pressed Send. He appeared in the doorway in a matter of seconds, his face pale. “Are you alright, Loveday? Why do you need a doctor? Are you feeling worse?” Feeling slightly guilty, I shook my head. “I meant you,” I warbled. “I need Dr. Rossington.” The color returned to his cheeks, and he raised a disapproving eyebrow. “You mean you just worried me on a whim?” “I didn’t mean to. I just felt the urgent need for some... medical attention.” I tried to look sexy, which wasn’t easy in an old-lady nightgown and socks, but it seemed to work because he came all the way into the room and stationed himself at the foot of the bed, arms folded, brow creased in that thrilling way I love so much. “Medical attention? Well, I think I can provide that. Take off your nightgown.” I pulled the sagging cotton over my head and peeled off the socks too, since he’d never expressed a kink for them, while he left the room. When he came back, he was carrying a basin of soapy water and a sponge. “Let’s start with a bed bath, shall we?” He pulled out the rubber sheet from underneath the bed and made me lie flat on it, its cold smooth texture immediately transporting me back to the other occasions it had been in use, bringing my reawakened sex drive to even more vivid life. I curled my toes and clenched my vaginal muscles, enjoying the sight of him rolling up his shirtsleeves before he reached for the sponge.