First and foremost, let's get the mundane stuff out of the way:
I am a paranormal and futuristic romance writer. All of my stories err on the side of romance with a good helping of erotica, and then a dash more of romance. So, yeah, I like it haut!! I've been writing professionally for a little over 10 years, but wrote my first story at the tender age of 15. It amounted to nothing, but was so much fun to write that I kept doing it.
Anyway that's enough about me, lets get Wicked After Dark!!
A street-wise hustler, Stormy has been running most of her life from the creature that killed her family. However, when she meets Fury, a being so stubborn he could give a mule lessons, running is no longer an option. When he claims he’s her protector and the other half of her soul, Stormy would rather take her chances with the beast chasing her.
His dogged determination to protect her and his seductive expertise spark to life dreams she’d all but given up on: dreams of belonging to a family, and of having a life where running is nothing more than exercise. But with vile creatures hunting her, demanding her blood, and pack members who want her head instead of her help, Stormy will have to find away to place her trust and heart in Fury’s care. If she can’t, then neither of them will have a future to dream about.
His aroma was intoxicating, Stormy decided as her head lulled to the side. She didn’t want to call it cologne, because it was more subtle than that. She moaned, arched up off the bed, and pulled Fury's s head closer as her legs parted. The heat growing within swelled until it was an overly active volcano.
“Who are you, Fury?” she breathed, in an attempt to bring some sort of cognizance back. “What are you? What are you doing to me?”
His head dipped lower, his tongue skating over her belly as he bunched the material of her shirt up beneath her breasts. “I am your every wish, your every dream, Ambrosia. All you need is to accept me.”
Rioting emotions rushed at her as his tongue lavished her abdomen in heated kisses, setting off tumultuous sparks that twisted out into every nerve and crevice of her body. “My every wish?”
His voice was velvet and feather down blankets. It was sexy, soft, safe, and sincere. It promised her warmth and security, and pleasures untold.
“Accept me.” Fury's hand ran the length of her leg, cupped her thigh and squeezed. He dipped lower, kissed the rise of her nest, parted her with his tongue, and made a slow track up and down her moist slit. A growl rose up in the back of his throat, his hands tightened on her hips, holding her to him as he sucked her swollen butto n into his mouth.
Stormy lost all hold on sanity. She was drowning in a sea of blissful pleasure. It tore at her insides and wrapped her up in a blanket of ecstasy. She fisted one hand into the sheets below her, while her other hand found his head and forced him in deeper.
In a world where men are an endangered species, available only to the ruling class, and the majority of women date androids, the last thing Phia Zen wants is to buy her lover from a catalogue. Imagine her surprise when she receives her purchase, Donté, and discovers he’s a living, breathing man. Problem is he truly belongs to the most powerful woman in the world, and she’ll stop at nothing to get him back.
For the love of a real man, how much will Phia sacrifice? Her family? Her freedom? Her very life and the life of the only man she’s ever loved?
“Don’t,” Phi told him between sniffles. “You can’t make love to me one minute and tell me you won’t stay with me the next, Donté.” He kissed the side of her neck and she could feel his cock thickening between her legs. She pushed against his chest in a futile attempt to move him as she finished, “You can’t make me fall in love with you and then leave me. It’s not fair, so stop.”
He grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head as he moved between her legs, opening them wider.
“Donté, this doesn’t fix anything.” His engorged head pressed against her entrance. Her betraying hips rose up against his, forcing him inside, and she cursed their deceitful actions. “It’s not fair,” she whimpered as he moaned low, his head dipping lower, his tongue flicking out to taste her lips.
He released her hands and gripped her hips as he delved deeper, causing her to cry out in pleasure while she rose up closer to him. She looped her arms around his broad back, and pulled him down to her. Her body was a miserable, insatiable, conniving harlot. It didn’t care that her mind was screaming for her not to rock back against him and to ignore the exquisite, pleasurable pain he poured upon her. It gave itself to him without qualms and without the need for promises.
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