It’s the Friday before Thanksgiving and already the traffic seems busier. We’re having perfect weather (albeit a tad on the gray side) in South Florida. The temperatures are in the mid-seventies and I can finally don a sweater. Heck—I may even do boots today!
The Viking and I are trying not to feel too smug when we see what’s happening in the rest of the country and Canada (being that he’s Canadian). However, he did inform me to tell his cousin, via the cousin’s wife, that he played golf yesterday. The cousin’s snow blower broke when he tried to get the three feet of snow off his driveway. *snicker*
I’m currently finishing up Prymal Passion—Bandit & Kata’s tale—and it was wonderful to write yesterday with all the doors and windows open. Toward the evening though, I had to run and get socks. My toes were frozen.
Anyhoo, I thought I’d give those of you who are locked behind frozen doors a teaser excerpt from Prymal Passion (unedited):
“I lied, darlin’.”
Bandit’s raspy growl sent delicious shivers up Kata’s spine. It took a few seconds before his words sank into her consciousness. “Beg pardon?”
He lifted her chin with a rough-tipped finger. “I told you a fat lie. I want in you so bad my balls are so blue as to be black.”
“Oh.” Her mind went on a sex-cation hiatus.
Her pussy ached with emptiness and her inner muscles clenched. He made her feel so safe and warm and right. Would it be too terrible to simply let it happen? To lose herself in the magic of sex and intimacy just this once? Who knew what the future held for her and Natusya? This might be her last hurrah, the last chance to grab the brass ring, if only for a brief snatch of time.
“Darlin’ the way you’re looking at me has me loaded and ready to fire. Is this what you want?”
He nuzzled her cheek and nibbled his way to her ear.
Kata sighed. Her ears were super sensitive. All at once she remembered biting his lobe to the point of drawing blood. She drew back so their noses bumped. “I’m sorry. That I bit you.”
“Was nothin’ darlin’. No worries.” He ran his tongue over the seam of her mouth. A slow, languorous lick that zinged eclectic darts straight to her nipples and clit. “Jaysus, you taste like manna.”
She let her eyelids fall and breathed in his sexy smell, a hint of aftershave, musk, and Irish Spring soap. His soft lips sipped hers, in delicate, almost-not-there grazes. A whimper escaped when he delved his tongue into the corner groove where upper and lower lip met. He tugged her tingling flesh with his teeth. The gentle nips had her craving more. She looped an arm around his neck and opened her mouth over his.
A dam within her burst, when he assumed full control, cupped her head, and slanted her head so their lips fused. He ravaged her depths, his tongue tracing every secret crevice, the erogenous silk of the roof, the bundle of nerves above her canines, and the prickling flesh below her lower front teeth. She trembled all over, quivering from the inside out. Her breasts grew heavy and her nipples budded to the point of pain. On every inhale the cotton sweatshirt abraded the tingling peaks.
His hand slipped down the front of her shirt, brushed first one pouting nipple, and then the other.
Kata mewled and bowed her back in a silent plea for more.
He laved the pulse beating in the center of her collarbone.
She tangled her fingers in his thick curls to hold him in place.
But, he nosed his way up her throat and traced the outline of her lips.
She peered at him from under weighted eyelids. “Please.”
His hot palm draped her cheek.
Their stares met.
“Be sure, darlin’. I’m not going to be able to stop.” She loved that his brogue had returned, loved his flushed face and flaring nostrils, but most of all loved she affected him as much as he did her.
Have a fantabulous Friday and enjoy the weekend!
Cheers
Jianne
