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 212 of 344 · 20 per page

• 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?”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  The way she looked him over made sure he got the message. “I’m glad to hear that,” he replied, breaking eye contact to convey his lack of interest. 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.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  I answer that, The desire for pleasure is of itself more eager than the shunning of sorrow. The reason of this is that the cause of pleasure is a suitable good; while the cause of pain or sorrow is an unsuitable evil. Now it happens that a certain good is suitable without any repugnance at all: but it is not possible for any evil to be so unsuitable as not to be suitable in some way. Wherefore pleasure can be entire and perfect: whereas sorrow is always partial. Therefore desire for pleasure is naturally greater than the shunning of sorrow. Another reason is because the good, which is the object of pleasure, is sought for its own sake: whereas the evil, which is the object of sorrow, is to be shunned as being a privation of good: and that which is by reason of itself is stronger than that which is by reason of something else. Moreover we find a confirmation of this in natural movements. For every natural movement is more intense in the end, when a thing approaches the term that is suitable to its nature, than at the beginning, when it leaves the term that is unsuitable to its nature: as though nature were more eager in tending to what is suitable to it, than in shunning what is unsuitable. Therefore the inclination of the appetitive power is, of itself, more eager in tending to pleasure than in shunning sorrow. But it happens accidentally that a man shuns sorrow more eagerly than he seeks pleasure: and this for three reasons. First, on the part of the apprehension. Because, as Augustine says (De Trin. x, 12), “love is felt more keenly, when we lack that which we love.” Now from the lack of what we love, sorrow results, which is caused either by the loss of some loved good, or by the presence of some contrary evil. But pleasure suffers no lack of the good loved, for it rests in possession of it. Since then love is the cause of pleasure and sorrow, the latter is more the shunned, according as love is the more keenly felt on account of that which is contrary to it. Secondly, on the part of the cause of sorrow or pain, which cause is repugnant to a good that is more loved than the good in which we take pleasure. For we love the natural well-being of the body more than the pleasure of eating: and consequently we would leave the pleasure of eating and the like, from fear of the pain occasioned by blows or other such causes, which are contrary to the well-being of the body. Thirdly, on the part of the effect: namely, in so far as sorrow hinders not only one pleasure, but all.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Dripping with sweat and shaking, he sagged into her as the white-hot ecstasy eased, his hips grinding mindlessly as he emptied himself inside her. She shuddered in his arms and a soft sob escaped her. “God... You’re an ass, Paul. You know that?” Fucking brilliant. He finally told her how he felt and it lacked all grace or romance. She’d walked away thinking he just wanted to get laid, and he’d hardly redeemed himself by cursing out his feelings in the middle of a full-throttle, no-preliminaries screw that had probably been heard by every guest on the floor. His forehead touched hers. Her arms fell to her sides, her exhales gusting over the perspiration-damp skin of his throat. “I have to go.” Paul’s gut knotted. He couldn’t let her walk out again. He wouldn’t survive it a second time. Gripping her behind the thighs, he hefted her up and kicked free of his boots and wide-legged jeans. In just his socks and shirt, with his dick still hard and buried in the sweetest pussy in the world, he carried her to the bedroom on shaky legs. “Not until you hear me out.” “I heard you loud and clear the last time.” Gritting his teeth, he pulled free of her and dropped her on the bed. Before she could scramble away, he caught her ankles and lifted her legs high and spread them wide. He looked down at her succulent pink pussy, the plump folds glistening with her desire. “I wasn’t done. I’m not done.” “I’m done.” He licked his lips, hungry for the taste of her. “We’ll see about that.” Recognizing the intent in Paul’s hazel eyes, Robin struggled to back away before he destroyed her again. She loved a man who was damaged. She could work with that if Paul wanted to heal, but he didn’t. The look on his face when she’d suggested they rendezvous in his hometown of Portland had told her all she needed to know—she was his biweekly screw, his hot piece in Vegas. And everyone knew what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas. She’d walked out of his hotel room that night with the intention of not looking back. She had told herself Paul Laurens was just a brief spate of madness in her life. But watching him leave the bar just now had been too much for her. She’d left her brother at the table without a word, chasing a man she couldn’t recover from. One last screw, she’d told herself. And then it would be over. Idiot. She craved him like a junky, and one fix was never enough. Paul sank to his knees between her legs, and her womb clenched greedily. Her pussy trembled with its eagerness to have his mouth on her; her clit throbbed with the need to feel his tongue stroking over it. He held her open with his hands on the backs of her thighs, his gaze riveted to her intimate flesh.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  He switched up the setting on the vibrator, placed a buzzer on my clit, and moved his soaked gloved fingers up the crack of my bum to find the unoccupied hole. I wanted so badly to cry out when he began the loving, unhurried business of lubrication, but I held back, my thighs shuddering, cunt in turmoil, sore throat totally forgotten, while he circled and probed, circled and probed, over and over and over. “I think this is where the dosage will be given,” he pronounced. A low sound would have escaped me, if my faulty throat hadn’t provided salvation. My head was in thrall to my body, my instructions and resolutions on the verge of being forgotten. I had to remember to be quiet. I had to make sure the treatment worked. His fingers spread my tight-furled asshole, preparing it thoroughly, examining its depth and width with scientific care. “Yes,” he said. He was struggling to stay calm, I could tell, and I was struggling not to come, wanting to save myself for the moment of possession. Over the buzzing and the insistent roar of my blood in my ears, I heard the unbuckling of belts, the lowering of trousers, the removal of undergarments and then he was behind me, holding my flanks, nudging up against the vibrator at first then parting my cheeks. “Take your medicine,” he breathed, then his impossible width amazed me anew by edging through my anal defenses, gathering lube on the way. I puffed and clenched my fists, trying not to resist, trying to wrap myself up in the dark comfort blanket of total submission, feeling and knowing myself to be his in every way. Penetrated in every orifice except the one I had to keep such stringent control of, I slid down inside myself, becoming a creature of sex and surrender, a helpless patient having to accept that my doctor knew better than me. The dosage was strong and the side effects included some discomfort and a few pangs, but the best medicine has unpleasant features, so I accepted it willingly, pushing myself back to take his entire length, showing him my trust. “That’s good,” he said, beginning a slow thrust, rubbing up against the vibrator in my other hole with each push forward. I came again, my body defeated and dominated, and then once more before he granted me the vital injection. He used me hard, leaving finger marks on my hips and my bottom burning, but the exhaustion I felt on his withdrawal was oddly invigorating—it was no longer the exhaustion of sickness, but of healthy exertion. While I lay on the damp rubber sheet, trying to remember what was supposed to be wrong with me, he kissed the length of my spine and then arose, disappearing for a moment. When he came back, he patted me down with a towel before uncuffing me, helping me to my feet and removing the rubber sheeting.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  “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. No sooner than he had put the bowl aside, his fly was open and his cock was standing out to attention, long and hard and impressive in its girth.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  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. She propped her feet on the coffee table and he knelt between her legs. He breathed in the scent of her until she thought she’d scream. She tangled her fingers in his hair, but didn’t really tug—it was an old habit with them, almost a joke. She’d urge, but she’d still let him take the lead, make the decision to finally lean all the way in and swipe his tongue across her lips, bury between her folds, nuzzle against her clit. When he finally did, she let out a long sigh, feeling like they had both come home. Then his talented tongue was working its magic, flicking against her swollen bud, stoking the fire. She pressed her head so hard against the back of the sofa that she knew her neck would hurt the next day, but she didn’t care. The scorching spiral toward orgasm wound tighter and tighter, the fire consuming her until she screamed her release. Ethan didn’t give her much time to recover, and she didn’t blame him. He shucked off his pants and underwear, and she saw how hard he was, tasted the moisture that seeped from the tip of his cock. He groaned as she did, but pulled her away a moment later, telling her he needed to be inside her. She had no argument for that. He urged her up, and she knelt on trembling legs to face the back of the sofa. He wasted little time sliding into her, and no matter how long it had been, she welcomed him, knowing now just how much she’d missed him. His hands were full of her breasts as he pushed into her. She felt his thrusts grow staccato, knew he was close. She welcomed that, too, because she was already on edge again herself, from the rake of his cock deep inside her and the pressure of his hands on her nipples. She felt herself clamp down, and then she tumbled into another orgasm, pulsing along the length of him. Dimly she heard his own shout as he came with her. Eventually they roused themselves, although it was largely so Ethan could check whether the bottle of brandy they always tucked into a back cabinet was still there.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  His eyes never left mine as he pulled out his wallet and handed the waiter a wad of cash. Eric guided me outside, his hand resting on the small of my back as we waited for the valet to bring the car. The music wafting over from the dance floor was just loud enough to provide an excuse not to converse. I wondered if that was for the best. I was getting really nervous. My palms weren’t the only parts of my body that were damp. We’d barely left the parking lot, though, when Eric pulled over to the curb. He turned, his arm moving to the back of the seat as he looked directly at me. “Are you sure about this?” he asked quietly. “I’ve waited for you for years. I can wait longer if you need me to.” For a moment, I wondered if he’d changed his mind. The hours we’d spent talking online just weren’t the same as being together in person. But his hand was shaking, ever so slightly, and his voice wasn’t completely steady. I wasn’t the only one nervous as hell here. I licked my lips and turned to lean against the door, letting my Wonderbra do its cleavage magic as I stretched my leg just enough to open my thighs beneath the clinging silk of my skirt. I was so wet I half-expected he could smell me. “Don’t you want me?” His pupils dilated, his nostrils flaring as his eyes flicked quickly to my breasts, lingered, then slid purposefully down and back up my body. He threw his head back against the seat and laughed. “Christ, woman! I want you so badly I’m about to come in my pants.” His voice came out hoarse in the quiet of the car. “Do you want me?” Yes. The answer was yes. I kept my eyes on his, knowing at that moment, I was going to let him see my lingerie. “I’m wearing crotchless panties. Just in case.” I couldn’t stop the flush heating my face. “Not that I expected you to ever know that.” He closed his eyes and groaned, his knuckles white as he took deep, bracing breaths. When he finally looked at me, his eyes smoldered. He smiled crookedly. “After all this time, it would be really embarrassing to come before we got our clothes off.” “Drive!” I laughed. He drove. My cell vibrated. Melissa. I turned it off. Eric’s cell vibrated. He pulled it out, grimacing as it slipped from his fingers and onto the seat beside me. “Would you please turn that fucking thing off!” I glanced at the Caller ID as I pressed the button. “J C Home?” “Janelle and Chris. And that would be Janelle. Chris would not be calling me now!” I giggled like a schoolgirl. “Does the whole world know we’re going out tonight?”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  “Seriously?” Samuel was relieved that there didn’t seem to be any regrets about the ex, and no impending reunion, a possibility that had entered his thoughts when he first thought about asking her over for a meal. The irony was that while he’d been cooking, he’d persistently reminded himself not to ask awkward questions about her divorce. All thought of that subject had evaporated when this absolute goddess had appeared and sat down at the kitchen table with him, as if dining out with a younger man while discussing erogenous zones was an everyday occurrence. Her eyes twinkled. “When a meal is delicious as this, it’s like really good foreplay for me.” Samuel ached for her. “I have to admit, the way you’re enjoying the food is doing bad, bad things to me.” She dipped her finger against the corner of her mouth, wiping away an errant drop of sauce. “I noticed you’ve stopped eating.” When she licked that finger, he had to lean back in his chair. His cock was solid beneath the zip of his jeans, and all he could think about was sex. “I’m enjoying your meal way too much to worry about my own.” She nodded, as if pleased. “I’m curious about how deeply it affects you,” he added. Was that pushing it too far? She didn’t seem fazed by the comment, in fact she smiled. “Are you asking in your capacity as a biology research student, or something more personal?” She paused to sip her wine, which only seemed to emphasize the significance of what she was saying. “Don’t be shy, Samuel. I’m a good nine or ten years older than you. We’re both adults and we’re attracted to each other. I was well aware that you didn’t invite me over here just to feed me.” He exhaled, shaking his head in disbelief. He wasn’t used to women being so generous and direct. He grinned. “Eight years, you’re eight years older than me.” “I won’t ask how you know that.” “I asked our landlady.” That amused her. “You have been doing your research.” He nodded. “Oh yes indeed. I only wish I was writing my doctoral thesis on you and your erogenous taste buds.” Her head dropped back as she chuckled. “Now that would be some fun research, wouldn’t it?” “I think so.” “What do you think it would entail, in your expert opinion as the biology grad student?” Her fingers trailed over the shoulder strap on her dress. “Evidence,” he stated. “Physical evidence.” “Well, in that case you better come over here and check me out for...evidence…don’t you think?” She pushed her plate aside as she spoke, and then she eased her chair back from the table, wedging it against the cooker behind her. Samuel couldn’t believe his luck. She was inviting him to touch her, right here, right now.