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 202 of 344 · 20 per page

• From Best Erotic Romance

  The car stopped again and the elderly couple exited. As the teenagers moved out of their way, the lone girl in the group glanced at Paul. Interest flared in her kohl-rimmed dark eyes. She checked him out, reading his brewery’s logo on his T-shirt and eyeing the tattoo that peeked out from beneath the sleeve. She was following the line of his arm down to where he was parting the lips of Robin’s cunt when the two boys with her spread out in the absence of the couple and cut off her view. Robin sucked in a sharp breath when he pushed his middle finger inside her. Her tight, plush sex sucked at him greedily, and his eyes grew heavy-lidded, lust riding him hard. Pressing his heel to her clit, he massaged her, getting her ready for the pounding drives of his cock. He’d meant to talk with her first, but she was hot for it and God knew he was hot to give it to her. Stumbling through his life without her had been torture. At times, he thought he’d go insane from the need to hear her voice and feel her body against his. The kids stepped off at the next stop. The car continued its ascent to the forty-fifth floor with only the two of them on board. “I’ve missed you,” he said gruffly. In answer, she thrust her desire-slick pussy into his hand. “You’ve missed this.” Her cool voice sliced into him, but her body betrayed her. She was scorching hot and delectably wet. As he finger-fucked her juicy cunt, soft sucking noises filled the car. Her composure lost, she gripped the brass handrail and moaned, shamelessly widening her stance. The moment the car reached his floor, Paul pulled his fingers free and caught her up, tossing her over his shoulder and dropping his empty bottle in the trash can conveniently placed just outside the elevator. He had a condom between his teeth and his keycard in hand before he reached his suite. Kicking the door open, he propped Robin against the inside of the stationary half of the double-door entrance. His button fly was open before the latch clicked shut. His jeans dropped to the entryway’s tile, the weight of his chained wallet hitting the floor with a thud. A moment later, her lacy underwear fell from her fingers and fluttered down. As he sheathed his cock in latex, Robin pulled her dress up to take him. Paul paused to look at her, his chest tightening. She was unruffled elegance above the waist and a walking wet dream below it. Her legs were long and lithe, her sex pouty and glistening.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Her husband pulled the honey jar from her. Kim watched as he lifted the drizzler out slowly, his eyes on the golden liquid as it spiraled back into the pool in the jar. He motioned with his head for her to come closer. Kim started to question, but before she could speak he closed the distance between them himself and untied her robe so swiftly it fell to the ground before she could grab it. He flicked the burner off behind her as he nudged her back against the counter and lifted the honey drizzler to her neck. Kim started to protest as the amber liquid began to drip, but she froze as it touched her skin. She squirmed as a drop fell to the floor, but Terry pushed on her shoulder, holding her against the counter. She started to speak again, and the words dissipated as he pressed his mouth to the honey flowing over her clavicle. His warm tongue swept over her skin as he claimed the sweet liquid from it. “Terry,” Kim managed to admonish when he pulled away. She gasped as honey landed on her breast—she hadn’t noticed his hand moving back to the jar. As she watched, openmouthed, Terry glided the dipper several inches above her chest, drizzling honey in a horizontal line across her breasts. The sticky liquid began to descend, creeping toward her nipples. Kim opened her mouth to object as Terry dipped his head and caught a nipple between his teeth just as it was engulfed. Her breath caught in her throat, and she remained silent as he grasped her breast from underneath, his tongue swirling over the golden sweetness. Terry groped her other breast with his other hand, smearing honey across her skin as she let out a muffled moan. He followed it with his mouth, fervently licking the mess he had just made and grabbing the breast his mouth had just left. His mouth and hands became a flurry of action, emphasized all the more by the slowness of the honey as it inched along her skin. Kim lost track of where Terry’s hands were and where honey would next land on her body as he lifted her to sit on the counter, his tongue roving her breasts, her nipples, her neck, her throat, her stomach. She gasped when she felt the distinct sensation of the liquid dropping onto her lower belly and beginning to slide downward. Terry grasped her thighs and pushed them further apart as he hovered, waiting as the honey traveled down her skin. Kim’s breath was suspended, barely moving as her cunt pulsed, nothing but the anticipation of Terry’s mouth landing there holding any more of her attention. She glanced down to where the liquid shone like glass on her dark skin, moving like a melting glacier toward the heat that awaited it.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  I look myself up and down, critically but compassionately. I like my long, silky brown hair, shot through at the top with streaks of blonde, and am grateful that I’ve found the best hairdresser in the world, who can keep it feeling smooth and shiny even when I don’t take the best care of it myself. My breasts have always been the feature I’m most proud of, big enough that I need a sports bra when I go jogging but not big enough to look obscene in my tightest sweaters. I’ve got hips, yes, and a belly, and thighs, and an ass, all of which I’m constantly trying to slim down even though Derek loves to kiss and lick and grab me there. Sometimes he clings to my hips so tightly he leaves bruises, but I don’t mind. I have my good days and my bad days when it comes to liking my body, but today is going to be one of the good ones, and tomorrow, when Derek gets home, is going to be one of the best ever. I hold on to the sink for a moment to make sure I’ve got my balance, swing my hair down in front of me, then back up, shimmy down as low as I can go, and when I finally reach between my legs, staring deep into my eyes the whole time, I’m soaking wet. I kick off the shoes as the song ends, exhilarated and aroused. I get rid of my clothes and slip into the shower, where I blast the spray as hot as I can stand it, so hot my pale skin will be juicy red. When I shower with Derek, I tone it down, but since he’s not here, I go a little wild, and while the spray beats down on my face, I touch myself and picture what I will do, how I will move against him, imagine the noises he’ll make when I take the champagne and spray it all over both of us. That image is what makes me come hard, trembling in the shower, and I waste more than a little water simply absorbing that feeling deep into my core. I need it to build me up in case I get nervous when it’s time to go for the real thing.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  The pause was just long enough, and then we tossed pillows aside and tumbled together, kissing and caressing with abandon. Hands were everywhere, and when, unspoken, we reached the point of removing clothes, Tim threw a couple more logs into the woodstove to help keep us warm. I pulled my sweater over my head and felt lips, his, kiss a nipple while her hand gave my other nipple a slight pinch. Gasping, I threw my sweater over toward the sofa and reached to pull off Tim’s shirt. Then I took Teresa’s hand and placed it on Tim’s crotch. I wanted her to unzip his jeans, free his cock, and I wanted to kiss her as she wrapped her hand around his stiffness. I watched as Tim undressed her, watched his cock twitch at the sight of her shaved pussy. I’ve kept all my hair, and soon he is comparing, fingering each of us. A brief question of “Does he prefer her bareness to my bush?” floated through my head, but as I felt him tangle his fingers and give a tug as he lowered his mouth to my cunt, any worries evaporated. Teresa watched him and ran her own fingers through her folds, slick and shiny wet even in the soft, flickering glow. I reached out and placed a hand on her thigh, pulled her toward me so I could rest my head in her lap. My fingers gently explored her, female but other. Her smell was different from mine, though I couldn’t describe it. Slowly, I pushed my tongue into the incredible softness that was her. Was that what it was like to taste me? Tim stopped to watch me lick Teresa’s delicious vulva. I played with her labia, folding the lips back on themselves, then pinching them together gently. She moaned and began to grind against my hand. I slipped a finger inside her, thinking it would feel like when I slip a finger inside me, but it didn’t. I was surprised and pleased, and even more aroused. I added more fingers and stroked her, pressed against that fleshy spot that makes me gasp. Tim moved closer and soon his hand joined mine. Together we were finger-fucking her, and she was bucking against us. I hadn’t felt this close to him in a long time. “Fuck her,” I said to him, almost breathless. “I want to see your cock slide inside her. I want to watch, and I want my fingers in her too when she comes.” Where was all this coming from? I only wondered for a split-second before his cock disappeared inside her juicy cunt and she was moaning in a voice too real to be a pretend porn voice. My cunt needed something, and I shoved fingers inside myself and humped my hand while I watched my husband madly fuck my friend. My brain fast-forwarded through all I wanted to do, and soon I was coming, crying out and slumping over.

• 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

  I’m plotting. Because more than anything, I want to know what it was like for Derek in the champagne room. I want to feel like I’m a part of it, even though that’s his past. But isn’t the point of marrying someone to merge past with present with future, to become, as best as two people can, one? No, I haven’t asked him about every previous relationship, and he hasn’t asked me, but I love the way I can be telling a story about something that happened in high school, a decade before I met him, and he’ll finish it for me like he was there. He’ll remind me of things I’d not only forgotten I’d told him, but just plain forgotten. So it’s not the stripping so much as the being left out that I object to. Sure, we could go to a strip club ourselves, but as much as I keep fixating on the image of a beautiful, naked woman rubbing up against all six feet, 220 pounds of him, I know the fact that she’ll surely be younger, thinner, and less jiggly in the ass and thighs than I am will haunt me, and not in a good way. But that doesn’t mean I can’t do something about it. I reach for the shower radio and tune it to the Top 40 station, and soon I’m dancing with myself in front of the full-length mirror while Britney Spears urges me on. I look myself up and down, critically but compassionately. I like my long, silky brown hair, shot through at the top with streaks of blonde, and am grateful that I’ve found the best hairdresser in the world, who can keep it feeling smooth and shiny even when I don’t take the best care of it myself. My breasts have always been the feature I’m most proud of, big enough that I need a sports bra when I go jogging but not big enough to look obscene in my tightest sweaters. I’ve got hips, yes, and a belly, and thighs, and an ass, all of which I’m constantly trying to slim down even though Derek loves to kiss and lick and grab me there. Sometimes he clings to my hips so tightly he leaves bruises, but I don’t mind. I have my good days and my bad days when it comes to liking my body, but today is going to be one of the good ones, and tomorrow, when Derek gets home, is going to be one of the best ever.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  She might not be a real Victorian bride, but apparently her sex life was still to be molded by forces beyond her control. If she was making a terrible mistake, it was too late to turn back now. The day went by so fast, Sophie almost forgot she was making a mistake. The wedding ceremony in the garden brought her to tears, but not because she was depressed about the upcoming drought in her bedroom. There was something strangely moving about declaring her love for Justin in front of so many beaming, overdressed people who really seemed to wish them the best in their life together. With the whirl of the reception and the after-party back at the house, the day slipped into evening. It was six o’clock before they managed to drive off to the charming bed-and-breakfast they’d booked for the first night of their honeymoon. Only then, when Justin scooped her up and carried her over the threshold of their wine country cottage, did she remember this night was the beginning of the end of her erotic life. Yet, far from being tired or disinterested, Justin immediately deposited her, with a meaningful wink, right in the middle of the four-poster bed. Then he stretched out beside her, pulling her close. “I’ve been looking forward to this part of the ceremony all day.” “Are you sure you don’t want to turn in early? We have the rest of our lives to perform our marital duty.” “Hell, no, not when you made me hold off for a whole week,” he blurted out, then remembered his manners. “Sorry, sweetie, I know you didn’t sleep so well last night. If you want to go to bed early, it’s okay with me,” he lied politely. Although she’d hardly slept, eaten, or drunk anything in the past twenty-four hours, Sophie’s body was tingling with a strange excitement. “Well, we’re supposed to consummate the marriage as quickly as possible—to make it legal.” Justin frowned. “Speaking of the proper formalities, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Sophie’s pulse leaped. The ink on the marriage license was barely dry and things were going sour already. “What is it, honey?” “I was looking at that checklist from your bride guide this morning, and it said I was supposed to buy you a wedding gift. Pearls or something. I didn’t get anything, but if there’s something you want...” “I didn’t get you anything either. They recommended cufflinks or a watch for you. Very 1950s.” She turned and cupped her hand around the erection tenting his khakis. “But this is something I wouldn’t mind getting all wrapped up with a bow.” “It’s all yours. If I can have this.” He slipped his hand under her going-away skirt and patted her mons. “I promise I’ll take very good care of it.” She laughed. “It’s a deal.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Samuel stared at her upturned face and for a moment he couldn’t respond. The physical contact was too good, and the question was almost too direct—but it was exactly where he’d been planning to direct the conversation over the main course. Then she smiled that gorgeous smile of hers and the tension in his gut began to unravel. “That was my intention,” he replied. Acting on the sudden intimacy of the moment he drew her fingers to his lips, kissed them, then leaned down to kiss her mouth. Her soft lips parted under his, inviting him in, and when she wrapped her free hand around the back of his head and drew him closer still, physical need built quickly inside him, making him hard. How long he’d been waiting to do that, and now he knew she wanted it too. “Don’t let it get cold,” she said as they drew apart, with mischief in her eyes. Not possible, he thought as he took his seat at the table, opposite her. He wanted her too much, and being this close to her was driving him mad. She was a sensual, expressive woman with a warm, playful personality. That’s what had drawn him to her, right from the moment she’d moved into the flat opposite his about six months before. He’d been attracted to her on sight, but given the age difference between them and her freshly divorced status, he didn’t think he stood a chance. He was a research student in his mid-twenties. She was an advertising executive in her early thirties. Why in the hell would she give him the time of day? But she had, and now here they were. “So, how long have you wanted to ask me on this date?” she asked as he dished the food from the platter onto her plate. “Since you moved in.” He smiled. Her eyes flashed. “And there was me thinking it was Kyle you were interested in.” Samuel lifted one shoulder. “Hey, he’s a good little gaming adversary.” It was true, but it wasn’t the whole story. Six months ago he’d started chatting with her and her seven-year-old over the mailboxes each morning. Then he’d endeavored to help her out with her garbage on a Monday. She was grateful, and she chatted amiably. Before long he’d invited Kyle over for computer game time, and Cassie had come along to cheer them on. The three of them began to visit the nearby park together, and they enjoyed long conversations about life while watching over Kyle at play. Slowly but surely Samuel’s fascination with her had grown, until the nights grew restless and he knew he would have to take a chance and make a move.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Since joining him is not an option, I settle on that last option in my mind, then go into our bathroom, strip, and stare at myself in the full-length mirror. I start to preen, then realize something is missing, and race into my closet to peruse my shoe rack, which is organized by height, from tallest to lowest, stripper shoes to kitten heels. Today definitely calls for stripper shoes, and I select the highest pair, six-inch stunners that I’ve never worn outdoors. They were sort of a joke when I bought them, but when I slip my naked, thirty-five-year-old feet into them, I’m not laughing. I’m plotting. Because more than anything, I want to know what it was like for Derek in the champagne room. I want to feel like I’m a part of it, even though that’s his past. But isn’t the point of marrying someone to merge past with present with future, to become, as best as two people can, one? No, I haven’t asked him about every previous relationship, and he hasn’t asked me, but I love the way I can be telling a story about something that happened in high school, a decade before I met him, and he’ll finish it for me like he was there. He’ll remind me of things I’d not only forgotten I’d told him, but just plain forgotten. So it’s not the stripping so much as the being left out that I object to. Sure, we could go to a strip club ourselves, but as much as I keep fixating on the image of a beautiful, naked woman rubbing up against all six feet, 220 pounds of him, I know the fact that she’ll surely be younger, thinner, and less jiggly in the ass and thighs than I am will haunt me, and not in a good way. But that doesn’t mean I can’t do something about it. I reach for the shower radio and tune it to the Top 40 station, and soon I’m dancing with myself in front of the full-length mirror while Britney Spears urges me on.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  “Oh god, yes!” That thumb stroking over her inflamed clit made her pant aloud. Rocking her hips from side to side she gripped his shoulders with both hands. She reached her plateau and an intense wave of pleasure swamped her groin. Hot juices ran from the place where they were joined, soaking her buttocks and the chair beneath her. Samuel soon joined her, his hips rolling in to hers over and over as he hit home and shot his load. Before he withdrew, he reached for another lychee, popping it between her lips. She bit the fruit and chewed it, savoring its intense flavor. He wiped a trickle of juice from the corner of her mouth. “Are you sure you should do that?” she asked. “You’ll get me started again.” “That was my intention.” His smile was wicked. She couldn’t resist teasing him back. “Sure you can hack it?” “Oh yeah, I’ve been hard thinking about you every night since I first saw you, and I’ve got a lot of erections to work off.” Cassie gestured at the fruit bowl. “In that case I believe it’s time to adjourn to your bed. You grab the fruit, I’ll bring the wine.” Samuel grinned. “You got it.” As they stood, wobbly and laughing, she clutched him to her. “I like you Samuel, I like you a lot.” He cupped the back of her head and kissed her deeply. “I like you too, a lot. In fact I think I fell in love with you weeks ago. Does that worry you…?” There was a challenge in his eyes. He really was a very intense sort of man, and that set her alight. “Not any more.” She ran her fingers along his jaw, sighing happily. “One thing I ought to say, though,” she added. A concerned look flitted across his eyes. “You must let me take my turn cooking.…otherwise you won’t get to know which meal turns me on most of all.” The concerned look disappeared and he grinned. “It just gets better and better.” She trailed her finger along his jaw. “When I like something this much I always come back for more.” HE TENDS TO ME Justine Elyot He hates it when I’m ill. He hides it well, replenishing magazines and tissues, haunting the pharmacy, inventing new recipes for hot toddies, but I know that this evidence of disorder in his world disturbs his equilibrium. Because Matthew’s world must be, above all things, perfectly ordered. My strep throat was not on the agenda for this month, and therefore all is awry and out of kilter. It’s worse for me, of course. I had to cancel a series of concerts, for a start. But Matthew has lost his control of the universe, which usually drives him to demonstrate his mastery of life a little closer to home. At my sickbed.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  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? You’re thirteen—you should be able to work this out yourself.” “Mom, she says it’s for teens only and Darla and Tom aren’t old enough.” “Then you get to play it when they’ve gone to bed. Why aren’t they in bed anyway?” She waited while Mikey conferred in muffled tones with someone else. “They are just going now. When will you and Dad be back?” Jodi glanced at her husband. “When we’re ready.” “Haven’t you guys finished celebrating your anniversary yet? Jeez, how long does it take?” “As long as we want. Fifteen years is a big deal, okay?” He sighed. “Okay, we’ll see you later then.” The phone went dead, and Jodi stared at the now blank screen. She turned to the large naked man stretched out on the bed beside her, and he took her hand. “I told you to turn that off.” She squeezed his fingers. “I just couldn’t.” He sighed, “I know how you feel, but is one night away from the kids a year too much to ask?” “No, it’s not.” Jodi held up her cell so he could see it and turned it off. He deserved this night. They deserved it. Having three kids had definitely inhibited their sex life. Perhaps this would help them get back into their sexual groove on the ranch—now that they’d fitted that new lock to their bedroom door. He smiled and ran a hand down his growing cock. “Then come here and fuck me.” She crawled toward him and bent to lick his already wet crown. “That will be my pleasure.” OUR OWN PRIVATE CHAMPAGNE ROOM Rachel Kramer Bussel

• From Best Erotic Romance

  His callused thumb moved higher, tracing the lace between her ass cheeks, and Jodi closed her eyes as her knees threatened to give way. He could still do it to her. One touch and she was like warm flowing honey in his hands. The music changed to another slow song, and he bent his head and took possession of her mouth, his tongue thrusting deep as he penetrated her sex with one long finger. She gasped into his mouth but couldn’t escape him, her body way too eager to accept his penetration in any way she could get it. When he finally lifted his head she could only stare up at him in mute appeal. He took her hand and started toward the restrooms. “Come on.” He didn’t stop until they’d exited the back door of the bar and veered to the left. Jodi found herself in a small yard filled with barrels and crates of empty bottles. He backed her up against the nearest wall, his gaze hungry and determined, his hands all over her. “I can’t wait. I want to fuck you right now.” Jodi moaned as he rucked up her skirt to her waist, cupped her ass, and lifted her against the thick wedge of his cock. The denim felt harsh against her swollen wet folds, but she didn’t care as he ground himself against her. “You want this? You want my cock?” Jodi nodded. “Then take it out so I can fuck you right here against the wall.” Jodi scrabbled with his metal belt buckle and straining zipper until she revealed his thick shaft. Before she could do more than moan her appreciation, he lifted her and impaled her on his thick heated length. She screamed into his mouth at the sudden penetration, holding tight to his shoulders as he worked himself up inside her in short, sharp, unforgiving strokes. “Take it, honey. Take my cock in your cunt, make me come.” Jodi concentrated on the thrust and withdrawal of his shaft and the ragged sensations he aroused in her. She anchored her feet on his pumping hips and simply enjoyed the wildness. Had she ever had sex like this before? Probably not since she’d gotten married and certainly not since she’d had kids. She felt his buttocks tighten beneath her heels, and his stroke became shorter and faster as if he was trying to jackhammer his way up inside her. He managed to shove his hand between them and zeroed in on her clit, thumbing it in hard circles until she started to come around his big cock in an ever-tightening frenzy of need. He groaned into her mouth and climaxed, his cum hot against her clenching, greedy, demanding pussy. When Jodi opened her eyes, he was still holding her, her legs wrapped around his hips and his cock just inside her. “We’re not done.” Jodi gasped as he started walking toward the parking lot. “You can put me down!”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  He meant to resist. He had work to do. The field was flat and open, the clover not even knee high. It wasn’t like the time she’d ducked him into the head-high corn, going down on her knees in the mud to suck him. Or the time they’d had sex in the apple orchard, the scent of blossoms and spring grass caught in their hair and skin. He meant to resist, but she had his shirt up and was running her cool hands along his belly, tucking them into his waistband. “Come down with me,” she said. She tugged him down as she went, both of them falling to the ground, the clover a cushion of sweet flower and the quiet buzzing of sun-warmed honeybees. He remembered his wire cutters at the last second, tossed them sideways out of the way. Maddy cupped the back of his head, brought him down for a giggled, honey-dipped kiss of lips and tongue. Laughing, they rolled, crushing the clover, bringing him again on top, part of her face covered with the sprigs of green and pink. Looking down at her was pleasure and a kind of pain that squeezed his chest and his cock at once. So beautiful and so his, but in that, the worry of losing her too. “Fuck me, Dustan.” Maddy’s eyes up to him, through him. “Please.” And then that thing that always happened, when the giggling stopped and their mouths opened and met, their bodies, still clothed, lined up against each other. As though a switch had been flipped, that electric heat that ran through them both, conducted by desire and pleasure. Dustan felt it everywhere—the tip of his cock, the edges of his lips as they touched hers, his fingertips. Sometimes he thought his very hair stood on end with the want. “Gladly,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you all morning.” And, here in that moment, he could talk, fully. He could say all the things in his head without tripping on his tongue, without the words halting him. His face burned when he said things like that, but it burned with a good thing, a safe and yet still dangerous thing. “But I think I’ll make you wait....” Her moan was everything to him, that small sound bitten back behind her lips. He pushed her dress up around her hips, watched the pale skin appear above the carpet of green. She had nothing on underneath, her golden-brown hair trimmed and curled. He dipped a finger, heard the soft groan as she arched her hips toward him, felt his cock harden fully at the feel of her, wet and wanting.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  She charmed entertainment and restaurant contacts in South Beach, Little Havana, and other hot spots in Miami, made sure the hotel was on the lodging list for every appropriate event, maintained an aggressive local events calendar on the Suite Rewards website, and made sure guests were emailed important notices in advance. She developed inside sources, like the one who helped her get courtside seats to a Miami Heat playoff game for an important guest. She was good at her job, and she enjoyed it. And she loved it every time Thomas Wolburn, on his periodic visits, joined her for a drink in the hotel bar after hours. It had become a ritual, even after she’d been promoted to Guest Services manager. She closed the restaurant at 1 A.M. and stayed there with him, behind the bar, pouring drinks for both of them. The first time had been an accident. Joanna had been filling in for one of the desk clerks when Tom came in at closing time, looking tired. After that, the post-midnight liaisons had become a delightful ritual between them. Those quiet conversations over good bourbon had fueled Joanna’s infatuation and her lust. She began to regard Tom’s visits like paid vacations to Hollywood. He was certainly her favorite guest and, as strange as it seemed, her best friend. He liked Josh Ritter’s music, and he smoked cigars on very special occasions. He hated having his birthday the week before Christmas and on one overindulgent night, halfway into a bottle of Russell’s Reserve, he told her about the accident that scarred him and almost killed his sister, how he’d been driving and arguing with her about which radio station to listen to. That night, cotton-soft and warmly flush, she took his hand, thrilled at his skin against hers. She wanted to invite herself up to his room. She wanted to fuck him very, very much, but she choked on the words, her mind dizzy with possibilities, risk analysis, the probability of complete humiliation. She didn’t have any condoms with her. Would he? No, no. No condoms, no go. Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow, she’d bring a jumbo pack of Trojans and they’d fuck the night away. Yes, yes. She’d just wait, and tomorrow she’d offer him some exclusive hotel services. Yes. No. The next night, as Joanna lingered at the concierge desk, ostensibly checking guest requests, she watched Tom leave with a tall, svelte woman who could have been Miss Brazil 2010—long black hair, eyelashes to die for, dark eyes and full lips that must have graced at least one fashion magazine.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  To the right was the doorway to the master bedroom and bath, and a wide wooden staircase that led upstairs to the loft, with bedrooms and a bathroom for guests. The kitchen was along the back as well, open to the living room, with windows looking out on the lake and the tangle of trees to the north: stately pines, poplars, birches. If she woke before Ethan, Bella had enjoyed the early morning solitude of brewing coffee and watching the shadows diminish; more often than not, however, she had been the night owl, watching the stars prick the sky and the moon leave a shimmering trail on the water as she nursed a brandy and put away the dishes. Bella set her purse on the small half-round table by the front door, hung her blazer on a wooden peg just above. Too familiar. Even with the realtor’s changes, the place felt like home. Oh, it felt bare—no magazines on the coffee table that they’d bring to read and never get around to (same as home), no stack of empty wine bottles to recycle, no towels draped over the porch railing to dry after a late-morning swim. Or a late-night swim. She sat down hard on the sofa, half-feeling like an intruder, half-feeling lost and very, very small. Remember when they would sneak down to the lake, under the full moon? They’d shuck what little clothes they had on—their wardrobe was so much simpler than when they were in the city—and dive into the water (chilly even in the height of summer), stifling their squeals, laughing breathlessly. Ethan would complain that he’d lost all feeling between his legs, but it wouldn’t be long before it became apparent that he was feeling very well indeed. His cock would rise, hot in the cool water. They’d be lucky if they made it to the raft before the groping started in earnest. Sometimes they’d just head back to the shore, lie on the soft grass above the beach. Moonlight would shimmer in Ethan’s dark hair, and she wouldn’t be able to see his expression, but she’d hear his voice, rough with passion. He’d tell her how beautiful she was, how sexy, and he’d follow the droplets of water on her pale flesh with his tongue. Down from her neck, to the hollow where it met her shoulder. Laving away the moisture, teasing her sensitive flesh there. He’d spent more time there than was strictly necessary to catch all the drops, knowing how it made her press up against him, nails digging into his back, whispering harsh and incoherent into his ear. Only then would he move down, along her collarbone, to everywhere but the center of her breasts until she moaned in unfulfilled need.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Derek’s so-beautiful-I-want-to-melt-into-them hazel eyes flutter open and he stares at me with a look that I think means, “You’re crazy, woman, but I want to fuck you so badly.” I pop the top and pull out the cork, watching the steam rise and hiss its way into the air and then the bubbles exploding upward out of the bottle’s mouth. Neither of us can miss the sexual overtones of that. Then I look up at him before leaning down and, in another nod to Madonna, wrap my lips around the bottle. I use both hands to raise it, then swallow a little, letting most of it dribble down my chest, wetting what’s left of my nightie, slithering down past my pussy, onto him. I toss my head back, my hair spilling down my back, then pour the chilly liquid directly down my front. I put down the bottle and again climb up next to my husband, straddling him, and offer him a champagne-soaked nipple. He greedily takes it in his mouth. I reach for his hands and place them on my ass. He grabs me like he hasn’t grabbed me in years. His lips, his hands, his cock pressing up against me, are all reminders of what I want us to be like again. The fire didn’t exactly go out, but it has fizzled, and only when I hear the roar release from his lips, then feel Derek tearing my nightie right down the middle, do I realize exactly how much I’ve missed it. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to reassure me with words. Instead he lifts me up, my legs wrapped around him, the wet filmy fabric clinging to me. He doesn’t bring me to the bed, but instead slams me up against the wall. He keeps me pinned there while undoing his pants. “Is this what you want, Sarah? You want me right here, like this?” “Yes, yes, yes,” I cry when he shifts me just so and places the tip of his cock inside me. He is lighting the spark that is making our relationship explode, making it crackle and sizzle and burn the way it should have been all along. I know as he plunges inside me, holding me tight, his face buried in my neck, that no matter what happened in those champagne rooms, it was never like this. Derek pounds into me, overtaking me, and I cling to him, my thighs straining, my nails digging into his back.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Paul stroked her pussy again, building a back-and-forth rhythm inside Brynn that caused a wave to lap up against the swell of Brynn’s rounded belly. “Oh, the water feels good,” Brynn moaned, rocking against Paul’s hand so the water sloshed over her again. “Tell me,” Paul repeated. “You’re beautiful. Tell me and I’ll make you come so hard, baby.” Brynn whimpered again, eyes closed and head thrown back. She was close to orgasm, Paul could tell by the way her pussy tightened on his fingers. He kept finger-fucking her, driving his fingers deep into her, reveling in the way Brynn’s body held him inside. “You’re beautiful, baby,” he said. “Beautiful and fucking sexy and I can’t wait to get you out of that tub and spread you across the bed so I can make you come again and again.” His litany of words aroused him as much as they were intended to arouse Brynn. His cock ached to be touched, licked, sucked, and enveloped by Brynn’s sweet pussy, but this was about Brynn and making her feel good. Making her feel as beautiful as she looked. Paul stilled his fingers once again. “Tell me, baby. You know you’re beautiful, all soft and round and fuckable. Tell me.” “Please,” Brynn moaned. “Make me come.” Paul gently rubbed Brynn’s G-spot, feeling the swollen, spongy surface against his fingertips. “I will, baby. Just tell me.” With his thumb on Brynn’s clit and his fingers inside, Paul fucked her slowly. Too slowly for Brynn to come, but enough to keep her on the razor’s edge of orgasm. Brynn clenched the sides of the bathtub until her knuckles turned white, straining to come with Paul’s slight touch. But Paul had known her long enough to know what it would take to push her over. He held back, waiting and aching with his own need. “I’ve got all day, baby,” he said, though every muscle in his body strained with rising tension. He couldn’t deny Brynn—or himself—much longer. “Tell me what a beautiful, sexy girl you are.” Brynn gasped as Paul thumbed her clit hard. “Yes, god, yes, I’m beautiful,” she moaned. “I’m so fucking beautiful. Fuck me, please fuck me.” “That’s it,” Paul coaxed, stroking her in earnest now. “My sexy girl.” “Sexy,” Brynn repeated. “Fuck me, fuck your beautiful girl. I’m so hot, fuck me.” “Yes baby, yes,” Paul said. He fucked Brynn hard, harder than he intended, but Brynn didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, Brynn gripped his wrist and guided him, clamping her thighs around his hand. Paul could barely move his fingers inside Brynn, so he concentrated on rubbing her swollen clit. With just a few more rough strokes, he felt her thighs tighten convulsively around his hand as she started coming.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  I glanced at Tim, just as Teresa held a piece of cake out to him, and watched my husband take the cake in his mouth. It was like slow motion: his lips closing over her fingertips, his eyes on her face, her smile as she slowly withdrew from his mouth. I kept waiting to be angry, to be jealous, to want to send them both out in the storm. But all I felt was a rush between my legs, my heart pounding, and my breath coming in short quick inhalations. I was so turned on it wasn’t even funny. Right then I knew what I wanted to do. I’d never done it before, didn’t even quite know how, but I wanted us all to fuck. Fuck all night long. Fuck till the storm broke. Teresa looked at me with an obvious question in her eyes. Could she? I nodded and tilted my head at Tim. “Go ahead, I want to watch for awhile.” I was startled at my own words. Even when by myself I’d always had to look at porn a sideways manner. Nope, I’m not really watching this. But that damn phone better not ring! Now, there I was, watching it live. And even though they’d only just started kissing, I was already soaking through my pants. He reached out and cupped her breast, rubbed his palm on her nipple. She arched and sighed, running her hands up and down his cross-legged thighs. I knew his cock must be straining against his jeans. I wanted to touch it. I wanted her to touch it. She kissed his neck, kissed the stubble he hadn’t shaved off that morning. My lips knew what her lips were feeling as they traced his throat. I wanted to know her lips. A little unsteadily, I crawled to them. The champagne had definitely had the proper effect, and I giggled as I reached them. Teresa smiled and reached for my hair. Straight, brown, and unremarkable hair, but as soon as she wrapped her fingers in it, I felt incredibly sexy. She pulled me toward her, and our lips met. I wanted to put everything on pause so I could study this new texture, concentrate on the different taste. But her tongue was in my mouth and her hand on my breast, and I could not think anymore. I felt another hand, Tim’s, on the other breast, and I reached for each of them. Literally shivering with desire, I opened my eyes and gazed at Tim. Saw the lust in his eyes. And not just lust for Teresa, but lust for me, something I’d not seen in awhile.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Paul leaned over her, pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of her waist. “I’m in this for the long haul.” “You think same time, same place, two weeks from now is a commitment?” She hated the tinge of bitterness in her voice. He’d never made her promises, never alluded to more than what they had during their Vegas liaisons. It wasn’t fair that she was angry at him for not giving her more, but she couldn’t help how she felt. “That’s not enough for me.” Straightening, he yanked his T-shirt over his head. Her eyes swept hungrily over his torso, admiring the tight lacing of abdominal muscles that flexed as he moved. He was so virile. Truly breathtaking. Tattoos covered both of his arms from shoulder to elbow in gorgeous half-sleeves. His chest was broad, golden, and bare...except for her name, which crossed the pectoral over his heart. “It was never going to be enough.” Robin sucked in a tremulous breath, stunned by the sight of ink that hadn’t been there previously. Her gaze rested on the new tattoo, her vision blurring with tears. “Paul...” “I do love fucking you.” He pulled a fresh condom out of the nightstand drawer and rolled it on. “When I’m not inside you, I’m thinking about it.” Setting his hands on her inner thighs, he pushed into her. She whimpered, her tender pussy tightened by her recent orgasms. “God, you feel good,” he breathed. “I’ve needed you so much.” His size, so long and thick, was perfect. As if he’d been made for her. Pushing onto her elbows, Robin watched his glistening cock pull free. The heavily veined length was as brutal looking as the rest of him. The sight of it turned her on further. It made her feel powerfully feminine, like a freakin’ sex goddess, to incite the raging lust of a man who was so potently masculine and primal in his sexuality. Robin’s tongue traced the curve of her lower lip. “Please,” she whispered, feeling empty without him. She’d been feeling empty since she walked out on him, physically and emotionally. He sank back into her with a low hiss of pleasure. “You’re so sexy, baby. So damn perfect and beautiful. I have no fucking idea what you’re doing with a guy like me, but I’m grateful. Every damn day.” God help her. She loved him so much. He tugged the tie at her waist and pushed the two halves of her dress open. He released the center clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts into his waiting palms. Her pussy tightened around him, echoing the gentle rolling of her nipples between his talented fingers. “I’m so sorry.”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Justin looked her straight in the eye, and for an instant Sophie did feel possessed, owned. Yet at the same time her body was strangely free and buoyant. “Because I know you’re going to enjoy it,” he said firmly. “I know I’m going to make you come.” “Oh, god,” she whispered, a hot wave of arousal fanning up from her pussy up through her chest. Then she cried out again, “Oh, god, sorry about that.” “What?” “This has never happened before. I sort of, well, flooded my panties. I’m just so…turned on. The way you’re talking…” Justin’s finger burrowed under the elastic of her underwear and came out glistening. Smiling mischievously, he anointed her stiff nipple with her own moisture. She squirmed and bit her lip. “I see you like it when I talk dirty and rub your own juices on your tits,” he said, his voice husky. Sophie felt another release between her legs. Her arousal had never been so obvious—or copious. “Sorry, again,” she stammered, “I think we’re both drenched now.” “Then let’s get out of these wet things. I want you naked anyway,” he replied. There was definitely a new confidence in his tone, as if her obedience was expected and required. Of course, Sophie wanted to be naked, too. She quickly unfastened her skirt, slithered out of her soaking underwear. Justin was out of his khakis and briefs in record time. With a shiver of embarrassment, she noticed the circle of moisture she’d deposited on his fly. Her husband pulled her onto his belly again, his hard cock nudging up against her ass. “Now rub your wet pussy against me. Make it happen again.” “I don’t know if I can.” “You’re my wife now, Sophie. You have to do what I say in bed. And it’s not just that piece of paper. You yourself gave me your pussy as a gift. So I want it to drool all over my stomach to show me how turned on you are.” Sophie wanted to do as he asked, but her body’s strange new response was really beyond her control. Still, it was her duty to try her best to satisfy her husband’s carnal appetites. And so she began to grind her swollen lips against his belly, in an effort to produce another mysterious effusion of desire. Justin grabbed her ass and squeezed hard. “I like it that you’re so horny you have to masturbate on me, but I’m not sure if you’re trying hard enough. Do I have to spank you to get you to obey? Now that you’re mine, I can punish you when you don’t please me.” Sophie stiffened as if she’d actually been struck. In an instant, a fresh puddle of her hot juices pooled onto his belly. Justin arched back into the mattress. “Fuck, I love that. How do you do that?” “You’re doing it to me. It’s you,” Sophie admitted. “You like this, huh?”