Thursday, 25 December 2014

Merry Christmas!


The Brit Babes wish all their friends, readers and fellow authors a very Merry Christmas. We hope you'll join us for some sexy reads that will be sure to heat you up. So light that fire, grab a glass of mulled wine, a mince pie and be entertained by the Babes colourful, racy and occasionally downright filthy imaginations.


I hope you're having a super Christmas! I love writing about this time of year so I'm a bit spoilt for choice on what to share but I think I'll pick a sweet, sexy moment from Christmas Spirit Warms the Heart.



“Come on, silly.” Jodi chuckled and pulled open his car door. “Haven’t you always wanted to ride in Santa’s sleigh?”
“Well, actually, yeah.” Mike found his voice as his ‘damn it and just go for it’ mode kicked in. “Thanks, Santa,” he added as he helped Jodi to climb up onto the step and into the interior of the sleigh.
Jodi was amazed by how warm and comfortable it was inside and commented so to Santa.
“Well, it’s all down to the Elves really,” he chortled. “They’re lovely you know, always thinking of my comfort. We have some kind of mystical central heating thing going on, and fur lined seats, lovely on the bottom. Better than the old bare wood. Oh, did my bottom ache back in those days.”
With another jolly chuckle, he flicked the reins and suddenly the sleigh was in the air and Mike looked down on the bright-lighted vista below. “Wow,” was all he managed to squeeze out, as his mind tried vainly to take it all in. He struggled to believe and was convinced he’d wake up at any moment.
Jodi was having a whale of a time and chatted away to merry old St. Nick as if they were long time friends. She’d always been good at adapting to things, though. She was never fazed by anything and took every moment as it came. That moment was something special, and she wanted to enjoy it all to the limit so she’d be able to always recall the magic in the future.
“I hope you two don’t mind, but I have a few more house calls to do before I can drop you off.” Santa smiled broadly as he quickly whipped the reins once more to bring the panting reindeer to a stop.
“No problem.” Mike smiled. He had gotten over the shock and had started to enjoy being snuggled up next to Jodi in a flying sleigh.
Jodi backed him up. “We’re in no particular rush.”
“Okay. I’ll be back in a moment.” The large figure leapt out of the sleigh with surprising nimbleness, rooted around in amongst the sacks and found the one he was looking for then disappeared down the closest chimney.
“Okay, this is weird.” Mike smiled and shook his head.
“It is a bit,” Jodi replied. “Nice of him to give us a lift, though.”
“He probably likes the company. I guess it gets a bit lonely at times.”
Nine antlered heads turned and fixed Mike with a disgruntled stare.
“Oh well, sorry. I forgot about you guys.” He laughed nervously, and the reindeer threw back their heads and snorted then look back towards the chimney again.

A few stops later, Santa passed Jodi a big thermos flask. “This place is massive. I’ll be gone a while. Help yourself to this. It’s Christmas spirit. I get so much left out for me, I can’t drink it all. So I save it up in here. It’s a good brew but strong. Oh and if you like,” Santa flicked down a little door, like a glove compartment just in front of Mike, “in there is a plate of cookies. I get lots of those, too. Oh, but just look out for the really homemade-looking ones. The little children make them themselves, and it’s cute but rarely tasty.” He chuckled again and leapt off onto the snow-covered turret of the European-looking castle below.
“Any idea where the hell we are?” Jodi chirruped with a lighter soul than she’d had in a long time.
“Not a bleeding clue,” Mike replied also feeling the strange light-hearted soul business and resigned to enjoying it to the fullest. They both collapsed laughing then Jodi unscrewed the cap off the old, red tartan patterned flask.
She inhaled and moaned, “That smells so good.” She moved in closer to Mike, his body pressed up along her arm. “Smell,” she commanded.
He slipped his nose just above the flask opening and moaned softly, too. “It smells so sweet and…and good.” He could think of no other way to say it.
Jodi poured a large drop into the flask lid and offered it to Mike, who offered it back to her, for the first sip.
He watched her thin but sensual lips as they clasped the edge of the plastic cup and observed the way her eyes closed in enjoyment as the liquid coursed down her throat. He felt the stirrings of arousal in the pit of his stomach. A moment later, he realised why she looked so happy in that moment. Drinking from Santa’s flask was like drinking liquid joy.
A pleasured growl fell from his lips. “So good,” he gasped.
Jodi nodded and giggled. The small sip of Christmas Spirit went straight to her head and, unexpectedly, her pelvis, too.
Jodi was not usually a particularly sensual woman. She had never understood the attraction of touch and closeness. She always recoiled from the touch of her mother, the touch of strangers felt alien and uncomfortable to her and she’d never had any other touching experience. But at that moment she craved touch. She wanted something she wasn’t sure about, but she knew she had to feel Mike’s touch—everywhere.
The Christmas spirit worked in a similar way with Mike. He felt stirrings he’d not experienced in a long time. A childhood full of abuse put him off sex. In his mind, it was a dirty, degrading act used to wield power over someone smaller and weaker. He had been subjected to sexual abuse from a man, but it had put him off all kinds of sexual activity since. However, he found he was feeling something, a stirring, a gentle warming of want.
“That’s potent stuff.” He coughed and reached forward into the glove compartment for a cookie. At the same second, Jodi did the same thing and their heads met with a soft thud.
“Sorry,” Jodi apologised and moved her head against his until they were face to face.
She really meant to move away and disengage then carry on to pick up that cookie, but magically, her lips met his, and all she could feel was him. His arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. Gently, he cradled her to his chest. His lips danced on hers tentatively with such grace and lightness that it made her feel dizzy with new, powerful emotions.
“Err hmm!” A Santa-sized cough barked from the side of the sleigh, and the newly lip-locked lovers parted—well, their lips did at least. 

Wishing you love, hope, peace and joy throughout the season!


Victoria x









Oh yes!! Christmas time! I love it, love it, love it! I think by the time you are reading this post I will be thoroughly sloshed with every item I received dotted about my person. I want stockings and socks and sparkly body lotion and all those lovely things. However, I also always find Christmas time such a reflective and poignant time. So I think we simply have to balance that out with such sheer joy and abandon.The thing is, I find the whole circle of life an incredible thing. Birth, growth, passion, love and death. They are all beautiful in their own way.

This year, the final two books in my Clockwork Butterfly trilogy came out - and the three books together are really a study of this circle with the whole planet - don't worry though, the balance is there - there's plenty of apocalyptic sexathons to keep us all excited about the impending devastation :D it's a big old end of the world orgy - Merry Christmas!!

Here's a wee bit from The final book, The Meeting Point - the main characters are on the run from a fertility farm and have spent the first night out
on the moors...


A dull ache thudded through Lena’s temples, and she paused for a moment before opening her eyes. Thinking back through every damp, cold, excruciating minute of lying all night in this dip, she couldn’t remember actually falling asleep. Her nose was dripping and she pulled her face down into her robes to heat it with her breath, surprised icicles hadn’t formed. Getting the feeling that she would never be ready for this day, she bravely blinked open her eyes to see the mist rising from the morning dew. She stilled and focused on the horizon. Three deer, hazy in silhouette, were nibbling at the wet scrubland. Lena’s scalp prickled as she made out the buds on the larger deer’s skull. A buck.
Excitement bubbled in her chest, and she wished she could rouse her companions to witness the sight. It was an omen. She was sure of that. A parallel trio, wild on the moors. When she felt she could, without breaking the spell, she let her mouth dance into a smile. As she did so, one of the does looked up in that eerie, languid, yet perfectly on guard way. Their eyes met through the thick morning air and Lena yelped in her chest.
Suddenly, anything seemed possible. The uncomfortable, sleepless night forgotten, she gently rocked Angelo’s thigh, trying to wake him carefully. His eyes shot open and he sprang up, startled, and the deer scattered out of sight. Lena sighed then looked to her disheveled lovers.
“Morning,” she said, and kissed his sleep-swollen lips.
“Mmm.” He rubbed his eyes and smiled the smile that devastated her every time.
“Did you sleep well?” she asked, snuggling back into the warmth and safety under his arm.
“No.” He wrapped his arms about her. “But I’m guessing you didn’t either?”
The hollow ache behind her eyes became a thump, and seemingly instinctively, Angelo took her hand and massaged the flesh between her thumb and forefinger. It was a strange pain, like an electric bolt, but Lena felt a knot unwind and release the tension in her neck and temples.
“How did you do that?” she asked, wide-eyed and astonished when her head and vision cleared and she felt refreshed.
“Come on...” He smiled and winked. “You know how good I am with my hands.”
Lena nodded and leaned back as he drew his face close to hers, kissing her gently on the lips. She inhaled and all the tiny hairs on her skin came alive and connected to each other, sending similar shocks of electricity through her.
“I missed you so much,” whispered Lena as Angelo kissed the still cold tip of her nose. She sniffed, tears as well as mucus threatening to spill.
Angelo kept silent and shifted his kiss to her mouth. Lena slumped back into the land as he rose above her, scooping her while their mouths entwined. One arm cradled her upper back while the other roamed under her clothing. His fingers found her heat quickly, and she squeezed her thighs shut around his hand. He pried her open with two fingers and thumbed her clit slowly. Lena’s head fell back further, deeper into the earth, as he kissed her lips and thrummed her pussy. Twisting her arm awkwardly, she managed to rummage among the furs and robes, and found him hard and desperate. Still kissing ravenously, he shifted a little to allow her more space, and she wrapped her hand around his girth and began to stroke him.
Excitement welled frantically despite the deliberate, slow, sensual actions they performed on each other. Her hips undulated in time with her hand pumping his cock languidly. It was excruciatingly hot to be brought so teasingly to that state of arousal.
He broke free of the kiss just long enough to whisper into the side of her cheek. “I love the way your pussy feels.”
Her grip tightened on his cock, and she couldn’t hold back anymore. She fucked him hard with her fist and bucked her pelvis, swallowing him up and forcing his thumb harder onto her clit. The trembling began in her stiffened knees and rose to the depths between her thighs. The kiss stopped as time itself suspended. She came hard and ferociously on his fingers, pouring her juices onto him just as he shuddered in her hands.
Taking the tip of her thumb over the come-slick head of his cock, she smeared his cream all over him and her hand. He withdrew from her and sucked his soaked fingers. She was a little embarrassed until she realized it was exactly what she’d intended on doing to her own sex smeared fingers. She brought the milky liquid to her lips and licked hungrily. The taste was something she had longed for. In the manor, she’d had to make do with just the merest pearly hints of pre-come to satisfy her greed for him. All those times when they’d been so intimate, yet his essence had been whisked away as soon as he came.
She wondered if any of his samples had been viable—had they made any babies? Then suddenly her brain swarmed with jealousy. Part of her rational mind was amazed at the reaction.
It had never bothered her before about what might come of his semen, what it might be used for, even though she had been fully aware of her role at the manor. And his. Why was it only now, when she had him to herself—and Mae—did it bother her?

If you fancy treating yourself for your new Kindle or eReader - please do! :D 
Publisher's link - for all eReaders
Merry Christmas! 

Tabitha x





Hi everyone, it's Kay here!!! Happy Christmas!!! I hope you're having a lovely day. One of my favourite parts of Christmas Day is the dinner. I'm not one of life's cooks, but there is something special about cooking up a turkey and all the trimmings- and then there is the pudding. I adore Christmas Pudding and Christmas Cake. I always have some of each- even though I'm not supposed to eat fruit! Like so many things, they are even more delicious because they aren't allowed. One of my favourite Christmas stories is dedicated to this mouth-watering dessert...

Here's an extract from Cake Mix -

It was the abrupt scrape of metal-on-metal that alerted his attention to the oncoming storm. It was an abrasive jarring sound that hit Andy’s ears like nails on a blackboard, but made his crotch twitch in anticipation—he knew what could happen when she got angry.
‘I suppose you think it’s funny!’ Mel dragged her blunt icing knife over the draining board in a fit of frustration, before clattering it into the nearest sink, and picking up the reel of garland she used to wrap around the finished Christmas cakes. 
‘For fucks sake Andy! How could you have been so stupid! This is our reputation you’re dicing with here. What will they think when we fail to deliver in time for Christmas? She strode across the kitchen and wrenched the jug of milk her partner was holding from his fingers, crashing it down onto the stainless steel table. 







‘For the last time Mel, it was a mistake. I misheard them. And anyway, if we can pull this off, then it’ll be so good for us. Our reputation will be even better than it is now, and we might even make a profit for once.’ 
Andy could virtually see the steam shooting from her ears as she growled in exasperation, toying the ribbon between her hands, ‘But 150 cakes by this Friday. It was supposed to be 50!’ 
‘We can do it! I’ll bake, you ice. We’ll manage.’ 
‘Oh stop being so damn reasonable. No to mention disillusioned! You’ll never get them all cooked in time, let alone be able to produce enough mixture. We’ll have to go to the wholesalers, we’ll need...’ Not bothering to finish her sentence, Mel exhaled in a mad rush of air, threw up her hands in exasperation, and pushed Andy backwards with a force that her slim physique belied. Grabbing both his arms, and with a skill honed by a career decorating cakes, she wrapped some of the ribbon around his wrists. 
‘Come off it Mel, we certainly don’t have time for this!’ 
Without responding, she sliced the ribbon from the roll, picked up her spatula, and waved it menacingly at his face. Mel’s midnight blue eyes shone with dangerous intent, and Andy’s dick swayed beneath his trousers as he understood her intention. 
‘Turn over!’ Her voice was brittle, but the evidence of her nipples poking against her chef’s overall told its own story. 
‘Mel! I’ve got all that mixture waiting to go into tins.’ 
She didn’t reply, but the set of her jaw spoke volumes as Mel yanked Andy around at the waist, dragging his chequered trousers and boxers to his ankles, forcing him across the seat of the stool. 
The spatula landed on his naked flesh before his stomach had even hit the seat. The fierceness of the strike made him bellow with pain laced anger and desire. For once he resented his submissive role. A role he was usually more than happy to adopt—but not today. Not this time. 
Just as the second strike of the spatula was about to hit his red-blotched backside. Andy twisted round, kicked his trousers from his feet, and raising his tethered hands, he shoved Mel away. Acting quickly, he awkwardly scooped a large fistful of sticky fruit filled brandy soaked Christmas cake mix, and launched it at her. 
As the stodgy brown mixture stuck to, and then slunk off, her chest, Mel stood frozen, her mouth open in shock at his unaccustomed retaliation. Then, with a determined look etched upon her face, she dipped her own hand into the giant ceramic bowl, and hurled a ball of cake mix at her partner’s groin. 
Andy, angling his arms, his cock sticking out between globules of clinging brown sugar and raisins, picked up the pint jug of milk. 
Reading his intentions, Mel stepped back, ‘No way Andy, I...’ 
The liquid hit her full in the chest, going right through her top, spattering the floor, work surfaces and leaving droplets of white across Mel’s face and hair, making her gasp with surprise. 
‘I think you’d better take that overall off.’ Andy tone was abrupt as he rubbed his wrists together, hooking his thumbs between the ribbon; forcing it loose and wriggling free, ‘Right young lady!’ He ripped the whites from her body, and inhaled a small pale breast between his teeth, murmuring ‘Ummm, I love milk,’ as he lapped at her sticky flesh, ‘but it lacks that distinctive Christmas flavour...’



If you want to find out what happens next you can read the rest of Cake Mix, and 4 other sexy Christmas tales in Christmas Kink.





Happy Christmas everyone!!  Kay xxxx









Merry Christmas from me, Lily Harlem, I hope you're having a good one. Here's a snippet from Caught on Camera. Part One, due out on 26th of December - yes, that's tomorrow! - is FREE! Go order yours right now!

Then each subsequent part is out two weeks apart for the next 8 weeks. Though all stories are fine as standalone reads, put them together and they make up one really, really hot MM novel.



“So you just go in and swim, do you?” Reece asked, glancing at the house.
“Yeah.” Cade stood and popped open the top button on his jeans. “And don’t worry, she won’t be back for hours and hours. Not once she’s out with her cronies, and when she is back, she’ll be pissed from all those gin and tonics.” He let his gaze slide down Reece’s body, head to toes and back up again. “It’ll give us plenty of time to get out and dressed again.”
Dressed again? Did Cade skinny-dip in Mrs Henley-Smythe’s pool? Reece felt a tug in his cock. The look in Cade’s eyes was unmistakable. He was interested. He liked what he saw.
If Reece hadn’t been trying to act cool he’d have punched the air. The hot guy before him did indeed bat for the same team he did. Perhaps all teams, but what did it matter if he swung both ways? Right now he, Reece, was here.
Cade shoved his jeans down and kicked them off. He lay them roughly over the back of the chair he’d been sitting on then headed towards the pool. As he went he pushed at his boxers and revealed his tight arse that was a shade paler than the rest of his skin. He kept on walking as the boxers slid down his legs then stepped out of his underwear without pausing. He left the boxers bunched on the lawn dead centre in one of the pale green stripes he’d created.
Reece felt his jaw slacken. Fuck the guy was brazen. He just went for it.
“Gotta go in naked,” Cade called, “otherwise you’ll have wet boxers beneath your jeans making a damp patch and giving the game away.”
“Yeah, makes sense,” Reece replied. Fuck he was getting harder by the minute. The sight of the abandoned boxers and Cade’s long, muscular body was enough to have his balls aching and his arsehole clenching.
“Come on,” Cade shouted, even though he couldn’t see that Reece had made no move to join him. “All work and no play makes Reece a dull boy.”
“What about the lawn? You haven’t finished.”
“Fuck it. I’ll do it later.” He reached the pool and dived in creating a white burst of water that splashed upwards and made waves across the surface.
“Oh, bloody hell,” Reece said, quickly slipping the straps of his overalls off then scooting down the trousers. Beneath he wore red boxers, fake Calvin Klein’s from the market, but he had no intention of removing them, not yet, not until he was safely by the pool.
God, was he really going to do this?
Unlike Cade, Reece carried his clothes across the lawn and set them on a lounger. If there was a sudden urgency to get dressed, if Mrs Henley-Smythe did appear, he didn’t want to be caught in the buff.
“It’s great, get in,” Cade called before turning and propelling himself in a fast crawl to the opposite end of the pool.
Reece made the most of the fact that Cade was facing the other way, tugged off his boxers and slipped into the water. The chill stole his breath for a moment and thankfully also took the heat from his hard-on. He sank beneath the surface, soaking his hair and letting the water rush into his ears. He pushed off and swam for several seconds to the far side.
When he bobbed up he came face to face with Cade.
“What do you think?” Cade asked, pushing his dark hair back from his forehead.
“I…er…yeah, it’s good. I was hot.”
He grinned. “Me too. Come on, race you.” He struck out again, back the way Reece had just come.
Reece followed, his competitive streak urging him on. He was a good swimmer, always had been. On the school team at one point before he’d decided school wasn’t for him and he’d dropped out.
He caught up with Cade and they touched the edge of the pool at exactly the same time.
Cade laughed a little breathlessly. “A swimming decorator eh.”
“And a swimming gardener.”
Cade laughed some more.
“Sounds like a movie,” Reece said joining in the mirth.
“Yeah, a porn movie,” Cade said with a wink. He stopped laughing and looked serious. “You watch porn?”
Reece was a little surprised by the question but he tried not to show it. “Don’t all blokes?”
“I dunno.” Cade turned, so his back was against the pool wall, and hooked his elbows on the tiles to support himself. His chest rose out of the water and Reece could see that the hair under his arms was as black as that on his head and sternum. “But I know I do and now I know you do.”
Reece shrugged and pushed backwards through the water, enjoying the feel of it swooshing around his cock and balls.
“So what porn do you like best?” Cade asked.
“It’s been a while since I had the chance.”
“What do you mean? It’s everywhere, all over the net.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I’ve been busy.”
“What with your boyfriend?” Cade licked his lips and twitched his eyebrows.
“I haven’t got a boyfriend.” Reece slipped his hand through his hair, to stop the ends dripping onto his face. This conversation really wasn’t going the way he’d thought it would.
“Why not.”
“Maybe I have a girlfriend.”
“But you don’t, do you?”
Reece laughed, going for casual. “Nah, pussy isn’t for me.”
“Hah, I knew it.”
Cade dropped his right arm into the water and appeared to touch his cock though Reece couldn’t be sure.
“So why no boyfriend, Reece?”
“We split a while back.”
“So all the more reason to watch porn, you know, get some relief.”
Now Reece knew damn well that Cade was touching himself, his shoulder was twitching to a familiar beat and rhythm, one Reece knew only too well.
“What is this, twenty questions,” Reece asked, falling backwards into the water and kicking his legs beneath the surface.
“If you want it to be.”
“Maybe I’ll ask you a question,” Reece said.
“Go for it.”
For a moment Reece’s mind went blank as he stared up at the sky then he decided to ask the obvious. “Are you wanking?”
“Indeed I am.”
“Do you always do that in Mrs Henley-Smythe’s pool?” Reece twisted his head so he could see Cade again.
“Only when there’s a cute bloke in here with me.” He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. “Fuck, you should try it sometime, wanking that is, in a pool.”
“I wank plenty,” Reece said. “But usually when I’m alone.”
“And not to porn.”
“No, not to porn.”
“To what then?”
Reece dropped further back, until his feet came off the ground, then he tipped up, so he was floating and staring up again at the azure sky. “Just day dreams, fantasies in my head. You know about hot men I come across in my work.”
“Like me?”
“Yeah, like you.”


Find all the details about Caught on Camera Serial HERE






Happy Christmas! Here's a super hot menage a trois scene from Harlem Dae (Lily Harlem and Natalie Dae writing together) Good Cop, Bad Cop. Enjoy…



Dillon really did have a beautiful cock. It had been just over an hour since I’d sucked him to conclusion, but still, my mouth watered for more.
I glanced at the door again, hoping to see Jose coming in to join us. This was it, my moment, our moment. I didn’t want to wait another second.
All my life I’d dreamed of having a man to really love and care for me, see past the stardom, and now I’d found not one but two great guys. Celebrating that fact couldn’t come soon enough.
I squirmed on the bed as Dillon tugged back the covers, revealing my nakedness. My pussy was wet and my stomach clenched in anticipation. There was also a tremble of nerves in there too. How would this work? Logistically? Was I expected to take a lead or just lie back and be adored? I wasn’t sure, this being my first threesome experience.
“Hey, don’t look so worried,” Dillon said, his gruff voice deep and rumbling in the quiet bedroom. “You’re going to feel great.”
“You said, before, once I get used to it?” I had to ask. Sitting alone in the bedroom while Jose made his call and Dillon showered, the phrase had been swirling around my head.
“Hey.” Dillon tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “If it’s too much, all you have to do is say and we’ll stop.”
“I won’t want you to stop.”
He twitched his mouth, kind of in a half smile. “Good.”
“I haven’t felt so connected, so…” I glanced down at my fingers, knotted in my lap. “So just me, not for a long time.”
“That’s because we see you for who you are.”
“And what’s that?”
“A beautiful, sexy woman, whose job is to sing, but when you’re not on the stage or in a recording studio you have so much else to give.” He tipped his head, as though choosing his next words. “You’re passionate and determined, funny, and my God, you have, in hours, done what no one else has been able to in years.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ve made Jose smile and you’ve made me resolve not to be such a grumpy bastard.”
My heart rate picked up. Dillon, I already knew, was not a man of compliments, so to hear them, whispered from his luscious, full mouth, was truly adorable and made them count all the more. 
“I don’t think you’re grumpy,” I said quietly.
He swept his lips over mine. “Now I know you’re just being nice.”
“Cantankerous, awkward, onerous maybe, but not grumpy.”
Suddenly I was on my back with a hot, hard male body pressing me into the mattress. 
“I am not awkward,” Dillon said, nipping my bottom lip with his teeth.
I giggled and smoothed my hands over his cool, hard shoulders, wrapped my legs around the backs of his thighs. “So you don’t deny cantankerous and onerous.”
“Mmm, no, can’t deny that.” He groaned, a long, low rumble as the head of his cock slipped into my entrance.
I found his mouth, caught the sound and released a moan of my own. He felt so good, hot and solid, and the power I knew was behind his cock, how he could thrust and pump and grind…oh, it made me dizzy just thinking of it.
He seated to the hilt, filling me in one sweet ride. I gasped and squirmed, adoring the fullness his thick girth created.
“Ride me,” he said, pulling out. “I want to see you on top.”
“Okay.” I pushed the hair from his face and stared into his eyes—bottomless oceans, the densest part of an iceberg.
“Like this.” He sat, tugging me with him. “Turn around.”
I frowned in confusion.
“Reverse it,” he said, stretching onto his back and slotting his head into the dent in the pillow mine had made.
I eyed his cock, pole-straight, shiny and jutting from his black pubes.
“Face the door,” he said, fisting his shaft and swirling his thumb around the dip beneath his glans. “Sit on me and face the door.”
He didn’t need to ask twice. I folded my legs either side of his hips, stared at the shadows slicing across the doorframe and allowed him to seat his tip at my entrance.
I tilted forward, rested my palms on his firm thighs and swallowed him into my pussy. “Ah, yes,” I said, loving the way he stroked over my G-spot in this position.
“Fuck, your ass looks so hot from this angle,” he said, then groaned as I took him deep, all the way. “Fuck, too damn good.”
He was stroking my butt cheeks, smoothing his work-hardened palms over my flesh, parting the cleft of my ass, and I was sure, studying my anus.
I’d never been penetrated there before, a few fumbling fingers over the years, but never a cock. Right now I couldn’t care less what Dillon did—just looked, used his fingers, whatever. I was so turned on and the pressure was building, a wonderfully intense heaviness that was developing from the front wall of my pussy.
I dropped my head, set up a pump and grind on his cock, capturing all the nerve endings that needed attention. My breaths were shallow and rapid, each exhalation drawing with it a moan or a groan or a gasp.
“Ah, yeah, so fucking hot like this. Perfect.” He was circling my asshole, easing out the wrinkles of puckered skin. But I was only half concentrating, the feeling inside, the climb to orgasm was on a set course now.
A sudden, sharp nip told me he’d breach my back hole. The sense of filling just adding to my pleasure. I upped my speed, hoped he’d add another. I could take it.
“Fuck, you’re so hot in here,” he said, stretching his free palm out on my back, urging me on in my jigging movements. “I’ll take you here too, baby, but not tonight. Soon, but not tonight.”
“Okay,” I gasped, shutting my eyes. Damn, where was Jose? I wanted them both. I wanted to come with them both holding me, surrounding me, and dare I say it, in me.
“Hey, slow down.”
Jose’s voice penetrated the whooshing of my pulse in my ears.
“Sweetie, open your eyes.”
He rested his hands on my shoulders, steadied my movements. I looked up into his dark eyes, inches from mine.
“You gonna let me play too?” he asked with a cocky smile. 








HO, HO, HO, Merry Christmas!!! Or, of course, happy holidays if you don't celebrate Christmas. I don't like to leave anyone out :)

Despite not being the biggest fan of winter and Christmas, I have, in fact, got a holiday release. Though I cheated a bit and set it in early January. And made it super hot so you'd forget all about the fact it's cold ;) Happy reading! xx




Reaching down to make sure she was ready for him, he looked up at her, startled, when she grabbed his wrist. “What?”

“Nothing. Just trust me, I’m wet enough. I want to feel your cock stretching me.”

Cassius was pretty sure he’d never heard anything so erotic in his life, long as it had been. He was also pretty sure it was the first of many incredibly sexy moments between them. Doing as she asked, he grasped his shaft and aimed it towards her entrance. Before he had a chance to do anything else, he felt Carina’s legs wrap around his back — and with surprising strength, she pulled him into her to the hilt.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck!” he howled, his brain struggling to catch up with the sensations he was experiencing. She was wet, hot, and so fucking tight.

He looked down at Carina’s face, which held an expression of wonder. He kissed her lightly on the lips, before asking, “Are you all right?”

She nodded emphatically. “Yes, I’m just… I don’t know. I’ve never had it like this before.”

He knew what she meant. They’d only just started the main event, and already it had surpassed anything he’d ever experienced before. “Me either, and I’m not just saying that.”

“I know.” The look in her eyes was soft, adoring, and it became more so as he began to rock his hips. He grunted as she tightened her internal muscles against him.

“Hey,” he said gently, “Stop that. You’re driving me crazy enough without cheating.”

She giggled, then reached up to pull his face towards hers. Their lips met in a tender, yet bruising kiss that was laden with intent. Carina’s tongue forced its way into his mouth, and she sucked at his tongue, mimicking the actions his cock was making inside her.

A guttural moan emanated from his throat. This woman would be the death of him. Sexy. Fucking. Wench. His hips thrust in time to the words, and he picked up his pace, deliberately rolling his pubic bone across her clit with every stroke. The noises coming from the beautiful woman beneath him told him that she was enjoying herself just as much as he was, and it was just as well because he was holding back. His need for her was such that he wanted to go faster, harder, to thrust into her until she screamed so loudly the neighbours would hear.

He pulled away from their kiss, sucking in a huge breath. “Babe, you feel so good. I want to go faster, but I’m afraid I’ll come too soon.”

Carina’s eyes glinted, and she gave a wicked smile. “Give it all you’ve got, big boy. We’ve got all night.”

Laughing at her choice of words, he kissed her again—he just couldn’t get enough of those lips—then raised himself up once more and began to fuck her for all he was worth. His job—not to mention his species—meant that he was fit, and he got into an incredibly fast and furious rhythm. His gaze met hers, and they just looked into one another’s eyes in awe and wonder as they allowed their pleasure to wash over them, again and again, until it reached fever pitch.

“Oh,” he said, gritting his teeth to try and delay the inevitable, “I’m going to…”

Carina said nothing, instead bobbing her head up and down in agreement.

Taking extra care to stimulate her clit with each stroke, Cassius continued pounding into Carina’s wetness until his second orgasm hit him, with next to no warning. The shock made him lose control of his words, and as his cock twitched, spurting into the condom, he said, “Unnhh… fuck… I fucking love you. I love you.”

It wasn’t until he opened his eyes and looked into Carina’s wide, stunned ones, that he realised what he’d said — but she didn’t recoil, or laugh at him. Instead, she reached up to stroke his face, and said softly, “Do you mean that, or was it just the heat of the moment?”

*****

Grab your copy of Reindeer Games: Cupid here: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/cupid/


Have a great day! 
Lucy xxx







Hi Lovelies! K D here. Happy Christmas, Yule, Saturnalia, Kwanza, Hakakah! If I’ve missed your celebration, fill in the blank, cuz I’m one to celebrate all good things, and who doesn't love to decorate for the occasion? 

Though some decoration is not meant for public viewing, very little decoration makes the wearer, nor the creator, prouder than the body decorations created by a lover. The body art of passion implies possession. It’s a physical way of saying I belong to you, and you’ve left your mark on me. And even if no one else knows or sees, I’ll know. I’ll know from the tenderness, I’ll know every time I sit down, I’ll know every time I get dressed or get undressed. Those marks will remind me of passion and wild abandon; they’ll remind me of the act of physically coming together, and I’ll be sorry to see those lovely body decorations fade, while at the same time I’ll be looking forward to the next ones. Lucky for those of us who like our body decorations a bit more personal, those delicious decorations are not seasonal. 

Whatever you celebrate and however you decorate, Grace Marshall and I wish you love, passion and all things good this holiday season and in the year to come. And here's a little bit of body decoration from my latest, To Rome with Lust Enjoy! 



Blurb To Rome with Lust:



The adventure that Rita Holly began in The Mount in London and Nick Chase took up in Vegas continues when a sizzling encounter on a flight to Rome has journalist, Liza Calendar, and perfumer, Paulo ‘The Nose’ Delacour, in sexy olfactory heaven. The heir apparent of Martelli Fragrance, Paulo wants Liza’s magnificently sensitive nose to help develop Martelli’s controversial new line. Paulo has a secret weapon; Martelli Fragrance is the front for the original Mount, an ancient sex cult of which he is a part, and Paulo plans to use the scent of sex to enhance Martelli’s Innuendo line. As Liza and Paulo sniff out the scent of seduction, they become their own best lab rats. But when someone steals the perfume formulas and lays the blame at Liza’s feet, she and Paulo must sniff out the culprit and prove Liza’s innocence before more is exposed than just secret formulas.

Excerpt To Rome with Lust:

Feeling somehow outside herself, Liza turned her attention to Angelo and spoke with lowered eyes. ‘I’m sorry that I trespassed in your dungeon. I humbly accept my punishment.’ She was surprised to find that her action sharpened the hot rock, heat-lightening scent of his arousal. But she had little time to think about it before she found herself enveloped in Paulo’s lush thickening scent as he slid out of his jacket and handed it to Alessandro, then placed his arm around her and led her away from the chair, undoing his tie as he went. ‘This is going to get really intimate really fast, let me know now if you want to back out.’

She sucked in a deep breath and shook her head just enough that only he saw. His own breath came out harsh and tight, and he spoke between barely parted lips. ‘Helluva a way to research the new line.’ He was still speaking when he looped his tie over a pipe that ran the length of the room. Then he caught her wrists in one large hand and bound them. She offered a gasp of surprise as he secured, hoisted and tightened until she stood with her arms stretched over her head, not on her toes, but without her heels she would be. Her heart raced and for a second she fought back a surge of burnt-coffee anger, forcing herself to remember that she had given him permission for this.

With both hands, he grabbed the bodice of her dress where it covered her breasts, and with a swift, efficient
move, ripped it all the way down until it hung like an open bathrobe exposing the red lace thong. Her pulse raced in a wave of cold metal fear that accompanied the hiss of tearing silk and the collective catch of breath by the audience that now filled the dungeon. She wore no bra. She felt a wave of shame wash over her like stagnant water. Her face burned, and she closed her eyes, but only long enough to take in the smorgasbord of scent. Then she opened them again and focused on Paulo.

For a long moment he stood inspecting her, his gaze moving over her body in a caress that made her skin goose-flesh, then warm, as though it were heated just below the surface. He turned her slightly so that her audience could view the red welts on her bottom, almost as though he were demonstrating why he chose the method of punishment he had. From the implements hanging on the wall, he selected a crop not unlike the one Fidelia had used. Then with the flat of his hand he slid her legs apart as far as he could and still allow her to keep her balance. He ran the pliant tip of the crop around each of her nipples until they jutted like pebbles in front of her. His gaze on her was neutral, distant as though she were an experiment that interested him. An experiment that interested both of them, she thought. But his scent gave him away. He was smoldering ash and summer storm agitated. He was cinnamon and anise seed, he was dark, rich earth, deep, dangerous and wanting … wanting her. She moaned involuntarily as he brought the tip of the crop up between her legs, up the valley between her labia, circling it around the nudge of her clit, and her own scent was a riptide lapping at his. How the hell could no one else smell what was going on?

With a move that startled her in its swiftness, he brought the crop up with a tap that was more of a shock that it was pain against her clit. She tensed, her belly goose-fleshed and her pussy gripped at its own juices. Holding her gaze, he moved forward and slid the flat of his hand into the front of her thong and down until his middle and index finger could scissor into the wet trough of her and his thumb could press against clit. He gave her a knowing smile when her eyelids fluttered and she bit her lip. Heat flashed up over her breasts and climbed her neck.

Then without warning he dropped his mouth to her nipples, suckling first one and then the other to hard tips that chilled in the dry air from the saliva he’d left on each. And when they were hard and tight and so sensitive that it was all she could do not to whimper each time he suckled, he pulled back and brought the force of the crop down with a sharp snap against first one engorged nipple and then another. She bit her tongue and held her breath to keep from crying out, but the tears that forced their way out of the corner of her eyes she could do nothing about. Then he cupped each breast in turn and brought the crop snap-snap-snapping up against the underside of each while he tweaked her nipples between thumb and forefingers. ‘That’s a girl.’ His breath was hot against her sternum, ‘That’s my girl. Take your punishment, just like you deserve, then afterwards I’ll make you feel better.’

She was wet with thoughts of him making her better, and his eyes widened and his nostrils flared. She knew he smelled it, her desire, her need for him, the strange pleasure she felt in the pain he dished out to her so lovingly. Once again he slipped fingers into her thong and felt her, all swollen and wet. A murmur from the audience suddenly made her aware of the fact that they had something to do with what she was feeling. Their presence made the experience and the scent different, more intense somehow. But there was little time to dwell on her audience. Paulo hooked his fingers in the sides of her thong and hauled them down her legs, squatting in front of her as he did so, moving so that his breath brushed her tightly trimmed pubic curls before he slid the thong off one foot and then the other, steadying her with one hand on her hip. For a moment he knelt there, breathing her in. Then he cupped her arse cheeks gently enough not to hurt, but firmly enough to remind her that she had been punished before. H drew her to his face and placed a kiss against her mons, then moved low enough that his tongue flicked over the hard node of her clit, and this time she moaned out loud. Before he stood, he ran his tongue down the inside of her left leg and lifted it until he cupped the heal of her shoe, which he then slipped off and tossed aside. For a long, delicious moment, he bathed her foot with his tongue and his lips, pausing to suckle her toes until she writhed against her bonds. Then he repeated his efforts with her other foot, if anything, lingering even longer. It was only when he settled her weight back onto her feet that she realized what he had done. He had forced her onto the balls of her feet by taking away he heels. The acrid smell of her discomfort filled her sinuses.




Again he took up the crop and whisked it back and forth between her thighs to make sure her legs were as far apart as they could be. And just when she had regained balance and had convinced herself not to think about the burn she could already feel in her calves and in her arms bound over her head, he ran a spayed hand along her throat, over her sternum and down her belly to curl his fingers against her mons. His mouth clamped on hers in a possessive kiss. Just when he pulled away leaving her breathless, he brought the crop down with a sharp snap

against the upper front of her right thigh and she swallowed back a curse, breathing hard through her nose at the harsh sting of it. Before she could breath through the pain, he brought the crop down on the other thigh and the room around her blurred out of focus in front of her watering eyes. One hand snaked up the back of her neck and pulled pins from her hair with a calm efficiency she could scarcely believe, as he took her mouth again and ran the threat of the crop up the backs of her thighs. The kiss was deep and leisurely, with his tongue trailing like velvet against hers, against her hard pallet, against the backs of her teeth. Once her hair was free, he ran his hand through it, loosening it, fluffing it, spreading it over her shoulders. Then the crop came down again hard and fast against the fronts of her thighs until there was the beginning of a lattice of red marks. Then without warning, he repeated his efforts against just the tips of her nipples until they stung and, once again, he took them into his mouth and suckled until she felt the effects down deep in her core. ‘You won’t disturb Angelo in his dungeon again, will you, Ms. Calendar?’ His voice was harsh, his words cut through with his efforts to breath.


‘No, Mr. Delacour. I won’t,’ she replied, her own voice nearly as breathless. A half a dozen more stinging smacks across her thighs and he dropped the crop to the floor. Then with a single slip of a knot, he loosened the tie until her arms fell free, and he guided the dead weight of them around his neck before she could stumble.

Holding her gaze, he undid his fly, then lifted her into his arms. ‘I’m going to fuck you now Ms. Calendar, because you’ve made me horny.’ Somewhere a long way off Liza could hear the murmurs of the council and she could smell the intense wave of arousal rolling off all of them. But when Paulo lifted her onto him with a single thrust and wrapped her legs around him, her focus was completely and totally on the man in her arms. It didn’t take long for either of them to come, and then what happened afterward seemed vague to her.

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2 comments:

  1. HOLY HELL ladies! What an awesome post. Hope you all had a very Merry Christmas.

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    1. Thanks Debi. Merry Christmas to you too :-)

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