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 249 of 344 · 20 per page

• From Best Erotic Romance

  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.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Unsnapping her bra with an expert hand, he pulled it down over her arms. The steely gleam in his eyes as he stared at her naked breasts was definitely new. “I’m glad it’s not our first time,” he said. “Why?” 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.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  The way he said it, his jaw tightening like he’d turn me over his knee if I didn’t move fast enough, had me inching my way up until I squatted over his face, reaching up to curl my fingers over the edges of an overhead cabinet for balance. Fingers parted me. He inhaled and gripped my ass in both hands and moved me slightly until my pussy made contact with his mouth. His lips latched onto me, sucking one side then the other, releasing me with moist pops that had me blowing out breaths in short, hard streams through pursed lips because it felt so damn good, so foreign. Like a dream come true because I’d imagined what it might be like and now it was happening. Danny Echo was eating me out. He gave long soothing strokes of his tongue and short ones that flickered over my soft wet edges. Then he hardened the point to flutter at my clit. I couldn’t hold still and began to rock in short glides, guided by his hands as I moved forward and back. I gave a moan when he rubbed his tongue harder over the swollen knot, burgeoning at the top of my folds and held still while he laved it over and over again. “God, Danny, that’s good.” “Like it?” “Oh, yeah.” He gave my sex a loud smacking kiss, slapped my ass, and pushed me down his body. I heard a tear, the slick snap of latex, and then he rolled, fitting me under him and thrusting his arms beneath my knees to lift my ass. “Put me inside you.” Both hands gripped his shaft, and he rocked forward. I aimed him right at my entrance, felt the nudge of his broad, round cap, and let go, bracing a hand against the wall and clutching the notch of his hip with the other as he entered me. He was large. Perfect. Pushing gently upward, crowding through wet, swollen tissue that hadn’t felt the stretch of a cock in good long time. Air hissed between my teeth, and I turned away my face. “No,” he said softly. “You wanted this. You have to watch.” He reached and hit a light switch. The overhead glared down, exposing us both to the harsh, bright light. I covered my breasts but couldn’t help looking down to where our bodies joined. He pulsed inward, halted, and then pulled out. His shaft glistened with my juices. He slid his fingers around the base of his cock and squeezed. “Keep lookin’ at me like that and I’ll blow.” A smile tugged at the corners of my lips, and I knew I must have looked like the kitten licking up all the cream. I was the one who had his body so tight and hard that his belly shivered. “Angela,” he ground out. “Fuck.” He released his grip, angled his cock just right, and slammed up my pussy.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  I sacrifice the nightie and rip the delicate lace at the top so my breasts can spill out as Madonna launches into “Justify My Love.” That’s not exactly what I’m doing right now; I’m not justifying it, I don’t think, I’m exploring it. I’m telling him that he doesn’t have to hide anything from me. I placed my hand on his forehead and stroke downward, and when I lift it, his eyes are closed. That’s when I slide my hand under the bed and unearth the giant Veuve Clicquot Brut Yellow Label bottle I’ve chilled in our freezer. I bring it toward him and hold the frosty glass against his wrist. 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.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  “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.” Justin’s fingers began to stroke her through her panties. “Of course, in the old days, you would have owned me,” she murmured, her legs falling open. “And I’d have come to you a virgin. This would be the very first time we did anything but hold hands.” “If this were the first time I was touching you, I’d probably come in my pants just doing this,” Justin said softly. With his free hand, he reached over and began unbuttoning her blouse. “But you wouldn’t be a virgin. Your uncle would have taken you to a house of ill repute to break you in. So you could break me in.” “I didn’t know you were such an old-fashioned girl at heart.” Justin finished with the buttons and eased the blouse over her shoulders. Was she imagining a new possessiveness in his touch? “I’m glad I’m not a virgin,” she continued, “but there’s still something sexy about having your wedding night be the first time.” He hooked a hand around her bare shoulder and pulled her body toward him, coaxing her to straddle his belly. Unsnapping her bra with an expert hand, he pulled it down over her arms. The steely gleam in his eyes as he stared at her naked breasts was definitely new. “I’m glad it’s not our first time,” he said. “Why?”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Derek is still staring at me like he’s not quite sure where his wife has gone, but when I suck on one of my manicured fingers, then trace that finger over my nipple, letting it pebble against my nightie, all while I hold on to the banister with my other hand and take slow, deliberate steps upward in my heels, I know I have his attention. I can make out that he’s hard, but even more than the erection I can see, I like the sense of adventure I can taste in the air between us, something that’s been missing for far too long. I’ve dragged our favorite giant plush chair, the one I know will hold both of us because I’ve sat in his lap on it plenty of times, from the guest room into our room, and I pull Derek inside and plop him down there. “Sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. No touching though; you might get kicked out. I can touch you if I want to though,” I say in a sex-kitten voice I’m not sure I’ve ever used with him or anyone. It seems to come out of me, or rather, Ginger, the girl I’m channeling, the one I imagine has danced for my husband dozens of times. I start up the playlist I’ve created, saving the champagne for later. “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails starts to boom through our elegant bedroom, and I can only hope the loud rock takes him to a slightly more edgy headspace. I lift my leg and place the sole of my five-inch shoe on the edge of the chair. Derek swallows hard. “Sar—,” he tries to say, but I silence him with a finger over my lips. I flash him my bare pussy, then flip the nightie down, put my leg down and turn around. I dance for him, for me, for us. I dance for all the times before I met him when I wish I’d been with him rather than with everyone who came before him. I dance for Trent Reznor, pouring every ounce of myself into the song. Keeping with the theme, “I’m a Slave 4 U” by Britney comes on, and I grab the little purple suede flogger I bought yesterday and whip it all around. I stroke it over my breasts and lash it against my arm. I hold out his palm and strike it against him, smiling as he moans. I slap it against my ass, but when Derek reaches to touch me, I push his hands away. Britney might be a slave for someone, but I’m in charge right now. As the song ends, I toss the flogger on the floor and climb up onto the chair with him, pressing my bare sex directly against him, designer pants be damned. I breathe against his neck, purr into his ear, lick the stubble along his cheek.

• 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 thumbed the distended nipples and watched them tighten under his firm caress. “What are you doing?” Brynn asked, a tremor in her voice. Paul looked into those dark cerulean eyes, so suitable for a sexy mermaid. “I’m showing you how beautiful you are.” Brynn squirmed under Paul’s touch, her eyes wide. “That feels...nice.” Paul grasped her nipples between his thumb and index fingers and gave them a gentle tug. “Yeah? You like that, baby?” Brynn nodded, her nostrils flaring. Tendrils of blond hair escaped their confines to curl around her face. She looked innocent and wanton at the same time. Paul moved his hands lower, following the contours of Brynn’s growing belly. It was round and taut, and he felt the baby kick beneath his touch. They both laughed at that, but this wasn’t about the baby. Paul slipped his hand between Brynn’s legs, lightly stroking her blond pubic curls. “Stop. I hate all that stupid hair,” Brynn said. Paul ignored her and kept stroking her. Before the pregnancy, Brynn had waxed her pubic hair so that she was bare and smooth, but her skin was too sensitive for that now. Paul liked the silky-springy feel of the hair beneath his fingers, and he tugged lightly, watching Brynn’s face as she did. Brynn’s eyes went wide, and she caught her breath. “That’s a strange feeling,” she said. “Good?” Brynn nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Tingly.” Paul smiled. He slipped a finger between the lips of Brynn’s pussy and found her clit. He was rewarded by Brynn’s audible gasp. Paul didn’t go further than that; he simply rested his finger on that sensitive button as he cupped her mound lightly. Staring into Brynn’s eyes, Paul could see the war Brynn fought with herself. Uncomfortable in her own skin, she hadn’t let Paul touch her like this in months. Paul longed to make love to her, but he wouldn’t push her. He would let Brynn decide. Brynn didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. She sunk down in the lukewarm water and covered Paul’s hand with her own. She pressed his finger hard against her pussy, letting out a soft moan when Paul took the lead and rubbed her clit. It was something so simple—hardly the stuff of an earthshaking sexual experience—but Brynn’s acquiescence sent a rush of heat through Paul. He wanted Brynn. Now. He wanted to fuck her the way he had before they’d gotten pregnant.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Tracing his fingers over the tops of her stockings, he sighed aloud. “You’re beautiful.” “And you’re supposed to be doing your research.” Cassie was desperate to be touched, and if he didn’t do it soon she would have to take matters into her own hands. Shuffling her skirt up, she exposed her panties. She knew they’d be wet, and when she glanced down she could see a visible damp patch that followed the niche of her pussy. Samuel swore low under his breath. “Is that what you’d consider evidence?” she asked. Sensible young man that he was, he thought about his response carefully before stating it aloud. It was one of the things that had tickled her about him. He was quietly ambitious, a risk taker, but he thought each comment out carefully before he took that risk. “I need something more substantial,” he eventually replied. Humor flitted across his expression. “In that case I think you’d better investigate more closely, don’t you?” He nodded, and his eyes seemed to darken, his intensity growing by the moment. Cassie pursed her lips, her blood rushing as she waited for him to make contact. He moved between her open thighs, then ran one finger down the side of her G-string—tantalizing her skin along the seam between her pussy and her thigh—before easing his finger under the fabric and homing straight in on her slit. There was a slight tremor in his hand as he ran the back of one knuckle down the seam of her pussy, making brief but delicious contact with her clit. When she hummed her approval, he repeated the action. She leaned in and kissed his mouth, hands tight on his shoulders as she did so. He returned her kiss, their tongues thrashing as they hungrily explored each other’s mouths. She could taste him too, and she wanted him. Her open thighs wrapped more readily around his slim hips. The action enabled his finger to move lower, and within moments he had her panties pulled to one side and his finger had eased inside her. “Oh yes, that’s really good,” she blurted when the hard digit slid inside her. She clutched it eagerly, and her upper body rested back against the chair. She pivoted on her hips, moving against his finger, her shoulders leaning against the knobs of the cooker at her back. “Eat something,” he whispered, nodding over at the table. Cassie dipped her finger along the edge of her plate, then took it to her mouth and sucked the spicy sauce from it, watching him as she did so. The spices ran along her taste buds once again, making them tingle and spark. Her entire skin kindled, and her nipples chaffed against her dress.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  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. The moment the cascade reached her clit, Terry dove. Kim inhaled sharply and dropped her head back, digging her fingers into her husband’s hair as he licked and sucked, thoroughly collecting all the honey from her clitoris. To her surprise, Kim felt a climax building as his tongue quivered against her. Orgasm had not usually happened so quickly for her, but now it felt imminent. Panting, she dropped back on her elbows. Just as the wave was about to come, Terry rose, scooping her off the counter and setting her onto the honey-dotted floor in one swift motion. Kim’s resistance to the messiness of the usually impeccable linoleum subsided as his mouth returned to her pussy. He grabbed her ankles and threw them over his shoulders as he squeezed at her tits, his tongue never ceasing its work. Heat roiled in her like water in a teakettle. When she reached the boiling point she screeched in kind, flailing wildly as the orgasm ravished her honey-drenched body. She rolled in the stickiness, in the utter and inexplicable surrender that made her not just ignore but revel in the messiness, the chaos, the letting go of something she hadn’t even known she was holding on to. Her body seemed to sink deeper into the puddles of honey beneath it as Terry’s hands gripped her thighs firmly, all traces of the amber liquid long gone from the surface of her clit, still covered by his mouth. She breathed heavily, opening her eyes, and looked up at her husband. The same embrace of chaos and disorder was reflected in his eyes as he looked back at her. Uncertainty. Messiness. Surrender. They were part of the recipe. Something had moved, and it went beyond what she had wanted Terry to understand a few hours before when she’d trotted purposefully downstairs in her short crimson robe. Because it had moved in her too. Like the alchemy in cooking, something had been created in the connection greater than and different from the components by themselves. The kitchen wasn’t clean. But it was what it needed to be to have created what was there.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  He kissed me, hard and probing, all his energy filling me. Without missing a beat, his face dropped down, sweeping kisses over my quivering hips, down to my open thighs. I felt his breath between my legs, his fingers caressing my lips, sweeping over me. He was just looking at me, taking me in while I was writhing, waiting for his mouth to touch me. I felt the tip of his tongue gently touch my clit, and I felt like my mind was going to come apart. His gentle sweeping strokes covered my pussy, teasing me until I was shaking and clawing at the sheets. The long fingers that I had fallen in love with so long ago were finally touching me, spreading me open, filling my tight pussy, pleasing me. The sensation was so intense, I didn’t know if I could handle much more. He kept slowly teasing me, tasting me, urging my desire forward, pushing me closer to the edge. His fingertip swirled the smallest circles over my clit. I gasped at his masterful touch, the pressure just enough to thrill me but not enough to make me come. His finger slid inside me, my walls gripping him, pulling him deeper into me. “God, I’ve missed you like this, Daisy. So much.” He stopped talking and went back to using all his weapons against me. I had taken as much as I could, and I wanted to give him something in return. I grabbed at him, pulling him up my body until we were again face to face. His kiss tasted like me, his lips hot with my wet pussy. It was amazing. “Me too, Blake. Me too.” I rolled him on to his back and straddled him quickly. I ran my hands over his chest, feeling every inch of tight muscle and the light smattering of hair that covered his chest. I ran my thumbs over his tight little nipples, smirking at the hitch it caused in his breath. I leaned down and kissed his chest, smelling him, tasting him with my tongue. Licking tiny flicks over his nipple, I grabbed it lightly with my teeth, and he put a hand to my head. I went about torturing his nipples a little longer, letting his moans make me even hotter. His flat stomach beckoned me, and I let myself slide down his body. Kissing his navel, I felt his hard cock resting right between my tits. I let it drag over my soft skin, feeling it pulse and shake at the contact. It jerked forward, trying to get my attention. I smiled up at him, his eyes glassy and fuzzy with need. Keeping his gaze on me, I let my tongue fall gently out of my mouth and let the smallest lick move across the head.

• From Best Erotic Romance

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

• From Best Erotic Romance

  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. Cassie rearranged herself on the chair, splaying her legs more thoroughly. She ran her fingers down her sex folds to hold them open, inviting him in. Samuel stared at the offering. He shoved his hand in his jeans pocket and pulled out a condom. He quickly tore it open and donned the rubber. Cassie’s knees lifted around his hips as he pressed the blunt head of his cock to her opening, making her moan aloud. He hesitated, and she encouraged him on, tapping his bottom with one of her heels. “Samuel, I need you, badly. You’ve teased and taunted me with your delicious cooking. You’ve got me in a terrible state.

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  He tucked another finger, marveled as always at the tight, warm pull of her around him. His thumb found the small peak of her clit, circled it lightly until she released another sigh. He could smell her—the sweet arousal from between her legs, the clover crushed beneath her each time she raised and lowered her hips into his hand. “Please,” she said. Her voice was graveled and breath-broken. The one time she had no words, a moment he loved for, lived for. “You’re making me...mmm...wait...on purpose.” “I am,” he said, leaning down, his fingers still stroking inside her, his other hand pushing the top of her dress down to expose her breasts, taking one small nipple in his mouth, running his tongue in circles that echoed his thumb. “Dustan...” Her hands fumbled for his belt. He pulled away at first, content on her, but she kept at it and he let her. It took her two tries, but she finally unhooked the belt and jeans enough so that he could slide out of them. Maddy tried to sit up—she wanted to suck him, he could tell by the way she moved, by the way she reached for his cock—but he held her there, writhing in the clover. “Later,” he said. “I want to be in you.” She pouted so cute that he almost gave in, but he wanted to feel her warmth around him. Not the active heat of her mouth and tongue, but the way her body rose to his and surrounded him. He leaned back above her and stroked his cock, once, twice. Who cared if someone saw? That was something Maddy was teaching him every day. The only thing he cared about was the way her gaze followed his movements, the hungry look in her brown eyes, the way she kept saying Please, please, please , the sound a wind whisper of want. She lifted her hips to meet him and he slid into her, slow, teasing, loving the way her body arched, planting her feet to lift her hips and curl her spine upward. Slow, taking his time, watching her, one hand coming between them to tease her clit with each thrust. Her words totally gone now, just low, moaning breaths, both of her hands gripping his bare ass, pulling him in harder. Her desire made his flare, hot and thick, so that he wanted to plant her into the ground, to plow her under, to go with her into that place where they both bloomed and blossomed. He slowed his thrusting to lean down and kiss her, trailing his tongue over the edge of her lips and down the curve of her chin. He captured each nipple in turn, sucked hard between his slow strokes. She caught his head, pulled him up by the hair. “Stop, stop....stop teasing. Please.” Those big eyes, darker with heat, the way the small wrinkles of her forehead came together as she begged.

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  All the reasons why I was crazy to consider it fell away as I ticked through them in my mind: He’s too young. He’ll be happy because I won’t have any expectations, I said to myself. Well, none beyond a really good time. I’m management and he’s a driver. Midnight had just ticked past, so not true anymore. We were both free agents. Both consenting adults. All he had to do was say yes. “You’ll never see him again,” I muttered under my breath as I rubbed my cold hands together. “If he turns you down, you won’t have to live with his smug smile.” I sucked in a deep fortifying breath, adjusted the neckline of the red Lycra top to show my breasts to their best advantage, and pushed through the glass door. His head turned at the sound, and then he straightened away from the counter and dropped his arms. “You cuttin’ my route, Angela?” I gave him a crooked smile. “Think I’d do that and ask you to wait for me here in the middle of the night?” His brows drew together, curiosity glinting in his gaze before it dropped to my boobs. I’d worn a bra that pretty much left everything sitting on a shelf. My nipples were outlined against the red, stretchy fabric of my top, the tips spiking because I’d given them a little tweak before I’d exited my car. His frown deepened. “What’s this all about, Angela?” I cleared my throat and tried for a sultry look. “I think you know.” He cocked his head and looked me up and down again. Slowly. “You don’t have to hijack a man’s keys to get his attention, sweetheart.” I planted my hands on my generous hips. “Apparently, I do, because you sure as shit haven’t followed through on any one of your invitations.” His lips twitched. “I thought you flirted like that with all the guys.” “You ever see me do it? Even once?” His jaw tightened. Fatigue showed in the shadows under his eyes. Stubble clung to his craggy cheeks. I felt a momentary twinge of guilt over the fact I was keeping him from his bed, but that was all I’d allow. He was young and hot as hell. If he needed sleep that damn bad, he could tell his latest squeeze to come around another time. Tonight, he was mine. “My keys weren’t in the lockbox. I know I left ’em there.” “You did indeed,” I said nodding. Then I looked him up and down, making sure he hadn’t mistaken my intent. “Fact is, I have an itch that needs scratchin’ and I’m hopin’ you’ll help me out.” I tried to exude more confidence than I felt, but I lost my nerve on the return trip up his hard body. I paused and swallowed hard, then gave a little cough to loosen the knot lodging at the back of my throat. When I reached his mouth, he was grinning. Shit.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  I repressed a whimper. A lubricated finger circled my quivering asshole, preparing it for the slow slide of the cold glass thermometer. “Most patients would have their temperatures taken with a digital ear thermometer,” explained Matthew, pushing it further in, inch by inch, and rotating it slowly inside my bum. “But not you. You’re different, Loveday. You need special treatment. It says so on your notes.” “Does it?” I whispered. “Yes, it does.” He held the thermometer fully in, his thumb and finger resting between my cheeks. “It says, ‘Patient needs firm handling at all times. Facilitate her swift recovery with frequent rectal examinations and strict discipline.’ The consultant seems very sure that this is what you need.” “Stupid consultant,” I whispered, just loud enough to be audible. “What was that?” Matthew withdrew the thermometer in one swift stroke, leaving my sphincter muscles trembling at the unexpected vacation. “I see from my thermometer that you are not too ill for a spanking, young lady. Disrespecting the consultant certainly merits one. In fact, I think he should be here to witness it...but I think he’s on another call. Never mind. You can imagine him here, and I’ll write up a report on your punishment for the notes, just so he knows.” I twisted my ankles and wrists, antsy and tense on my rubber sheet. I both dreaded and longed for the promised spanking, and I worked on my readiness for the first stroke, but instead he picked up the sponge again and wrung it out on my bottom so that the water flowed over the cheeks and down my hips, puddling on the sheet. When his hand fell, I nearly jumped up to my knees. I thought I knew the exact form and feel and weight and shape of his open palm, but this felt quite different, and it stung substantially more than I remembered. “Ha ha,” he chuckled delightedly. “That’s how it feels on a wet bottom. I’ve heard it’s more painful. So it’s true.” He continued to smack at my dripping bottom until it was dry—a long and intensive process throughout which it was impossible not to wriggle and kick and make pathetic squeaking noises. “There,” he said, rubbing the site of his evildoing. “A red, sore bottom is very good at aiding recovery for minxes like you. I think we’ll repeat that prescription thrice daily.” “Thrice?” I moaned. “But it hurts.” “The best medicines are hard to swallow,” lectured Matthew. “Speaking of which...but no. I can’t be sure the infection has cleared up yet. We’ll have to find another way of administering the dose.” “The dose?” I wanted to laugh. That was one way of putting it. If I panted, “Dose me up, doctor,” in the throes of orgasm, would that work for him? “The medicine you need,” he whispered, bending down to my ear. “The medicine you’re going to get.” “Can I ask for a second opinion?

• From Best Erotic Romance

  You know how long I’ve been out this time.” “I know. I arranged the schedule.” Still, he didn’t take the keys. I took a step toward him and had to tilt my head to maintain the lock on his gray gaze. His hands settled on my waist. “You want somethin’, sweetheart?” he repeated, his voice lowering to a sexy rumble. I squeezed my eyes shut, prayed for courage and that the blush staining my cheeks would fade. “I want you,” I said, then opened my eyes. His grin widened. “Now, was that so hard?” “Matter of fact it was.” He bent toward me, his gaze narrowing on my mouth, but I turned away my face. “Not here. Your rig.” His eyebrows shot up, and he pushed me gently back. “After you. You know where I’m docked, and you have a key. Let yourself inside and get comfortable. I’m hittin’ the locker room for a quick shower. I smell like diesel.” He turned on his heel, giving me another view of that backside I’d drooled over for months. A moan slipped from my mouth, and I heard a chuckle as he pushed through the door and left me standing weak-kneed in his wake. He let me wait a good twenty minutes before the door to his cab opened, and he climbed inside. The scent of plain soap swept into the cab that already smelled like him—musky male, diesel. But since he didn’t smoke and didn’t appear to collect his meals, it smelled pretty good for a trucker’s rig. Light shone from the top of a tall post in the parking lot, illuminating the cab. Security cameras would record who entered the truck but I hoped wouldn’t disclose what we were about to do inside the cab. Another reason I’d waited until tonight for this. Everyone would be blabbing. I sat in the plush leather passenger seat and glanced away as he climbed up into the driver’s seat. “Change your mind?” he asked softly. “No,” I bit out, a little annoyed that he asked. I wanted him to take the initiative, not seek my approval every step of the way. “Then why aren’t you in the back?” “Look, you don’t have to feel obligated,” I said, turning to meet his smoky gray gaze. “If you’d rather get some sleep…” “I jerked off in the shower.” My jaw sagged just a little, then snapped closed. “Now, why are you tellin’ me a thing like that?” “Because I want you to know how much I want you. Thought I’d take some of the edge off before I came out here. I didn’t want to leave you unsatisfied, darlin’.” I swallowed hard, eyeing the taut edge of his jaw, the glint of arousal in his eyes. Maybe it was just what I wanted to see, but I didn’t back away when he reached for me. He leaned toward me. His hands slid around my back, one gliding up to fist in my hair.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  We were sleeping in the open loft, and Teresa was on the pullout. While I might have slid my hand into his pajamas, trying to interest him in something other than sleep, I knew that with Teresa so close downstairs that Tim would just not go for it. He was a pretty vanilla guy and not very forthcoming when it came to sharing fantasies or out-of-the-ordinary desires. But I loved him, and he seemed to enjoy my efforts to spice things up a bit. I realized as I stood there that I was just a little bit aroused. That’s what I get for thinking about sex, which I did on a regular basis. “Hey, are the noodles ready?” Teresa looked over my shoulder. I stabbed one of the macaronis, held it up and blew on it, then fed it to her. “Done?” She smiled and nodded, and I watched her red hair sway with the movement. I felt an odd little rush as I became acutely aware of her breasts pressed against the back of my arm. Not wanting to move, yet needing to drain the noodles, I turned off the stove and emptied the pan into the colander in the sink. Steam rose, fogging the window. Just then the lights blinked. “Uh oh,” Teresa said, “maybe we should light one of those candles in case…” We were plunged into darkness. Tim had his flashlight out right away, and I found the matches and started to light the jarred candles we’d placed around earlier. The cabin was soon filled with a soft glow. Glad that I’d gotten the noodles cooked before the power went out, I added the butter and milk and tore open the packet of neon cheese powder. Wow. Special. I grabbed the plastic bowls and forks and put them on the table along with the pan of mac and cheese. “Dig in.” There must have been something in the tone of my voice that made it obvious I was not happy with this turn of events, because Teresa announced, “Time to open the first bottle of champagne! I think our chef needs a glass!” She draped a dish towel over the bottle, quietly popped the cork, and poured the elixir into the curvy glasses. “A toast! To the winter storm, friends, macaroni and cheese, and champagne!”

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Cassie watched Samuel as he stood, the pulse in her groin thudding wildly. He was an attractive young man, and he’d been keen from the outset. Caution had hampered this moment, but it had to happen. He’d won her over with his intense personality, green eyes, and rugged bone structure. Not to mention how fit he was—leanly muscled and tall, with the suggestion of vitality in his every move. “I am so glad I made Thai food,” he commented as he dropped to his knees before her, one hand resting on her knee. “This is like a dream come true.” “I think so too.” She covered his hand with her own then swung her legs apart. “I want you, Samuel. I’ve been thinking about this, a lot.” “Me too.” His gaze dropped. Tracing his fingers over the tops of her stockings, he sighed aloud. “You’re beautiful.” “And you’re supposed to be doing your research.” Cassie was desperate to be touched, and if he didn’t do it soon she would have to take matters into her own hands. Shuffling her skirt up, she exposed her panties. She knew they’d be wet, and when she glanced down she could see a visible damp patch that followed the niche of her pussy. Samuel swore low under his breath. “Is that what you’d consider evidence?” she asked. Sensible young man that he was, he thought about his response carefully before stating it aloud. It was one of the things that had tickled her about him. He was quietly ambitious, a risk taker, but he thought each comment out carefully before he took that risk. “I need something more substantial,” he eventually replied. Humor flitted across his expression. “In that case I think you’d better investigate more closely, don’t you?” He nodded, and his eyes seemed to darken, his intensity growing by the moment. Cassie pursed her lips, her blood rushing as she waited for him to make contact. He moved between her open thighs, then ran one finger down the side of her G-string—tantalizing her skin along the seam between her pussy and her thigh—before easing his finger under the fabric and homing straight in on her slit. There was a slight tremor in his hand as he ran the back of one knuckle down the seam of her pussy, making brief but delicious contact with her clit. When she hummed her approval, he repeated the action. She leaned in and kissed his mouth, hands tight on his shoulders as she did so. He returned her kiss, their tongues thrashing as they hungrily explored each other’s mouths. She could taste him too, and she wanted him. Her open thighs wrapped more readily around his slim hips. The action enabled his finger to move lower, and within moments he had her panties pulled to one side and his finger had eased inside her.

• From Best Erotic Romance

  Kim moved back to the counter and flipped the pancakes on the griddle before lifting the honey jar. “I was just checking to see how they tasted with honey.” A drop had fallen onto the counter, a single slip of disorder among meticulousness. Terry’s mouth curved in a smile as he followed her. “A spot on the counter!” he teased, pointing at it. Kim smirked and grabbed a kitchen wipe to clean it up. Terry laughed, and Kim spun around and looked into his eyes. It was a magical sound—one she hadn’t heard in weeks. 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.