Hey there Wednesday teasers.
I hope 2019 is a good one for you. I’m back and ready to share more teasers… as I plan to have a very fruitful year.
Right now I’m working on two books at the same time. Blood and Spice is a paranormal erotic romance with a Halloween theme. Malt and Ginger (Yes, I’m very creative with the titles, right? I may change this one) is the first part of a duet, a BDSM queer romance between two women, sort of Carol meets Secretary. I have two teasers of both books for you.
Laurel was no virgin and no stranger to the intense world of passion. Nobody knew that better than Corwin who knew what a generous lover she was… if her pet earned his pleasure. He had spent hours on her bed, in tight bondage, begging and moaning while Laurel was kindling his passion until his cock was throbbing and huge in her hand. She was driving him insane with soft teasing and often made him scream in frustration and beg for her mercy. The sight of his athletic body caught in a trap, so strong and yet so helpless, opened the rivers of lust inside her. Laurel’s thighs were soaked and she was trembling on the inside, dying to feel him deep inside her.
These were the times she wondered who was the one suffering more during those games of power. She had no doubt who held the power.
Once Corwin earned himself the right to bury himself inside his goddess Laurel impaled herself on him and cried with ecstasy and relief. Their lips tangled and when she sank teeth in his tongue and tasted him the rush of cinnamon filled her mouth. Did Corwin really taste like spice once she licked his blood or it was all part of the magic? Sometimes when Laurel was so close to orgasm the magic was slipping out of her control and she experienced her own spell.
In these moments the bliss was almost too much to handle as she was riding her gorgeous wolf and their bodies picked up the rhythm. His cock was growing even harder, bruising her womb but Laurel craved the pain, pleasure, cinnamon and metallic taste of blood. She felt larger than life when Corwin was inside her. He looked so beautiful in those moments, with his messy sex hair, glowing green eyes and flexing body, with his massive erection stretching her in the most delicious way. His growling voice and fierce loyalty, the way he said Mistress, often pushed her past the borders of reason and logic, until she was just as much of a slave of lust as him. Taming that magnificent beast, tasting him and taking the best of him was taking her mind to places she didn’t know existed.
The winter was a fierce mistress whose shards of ice could break me but she had beautiful handwriting. In a rare moment of courage, I reached out and brushed my fingers along the glass to outline the flowers of ice. They prickled my skin with their bite but I endured the pain and kept caressing the smooth surface, in awe of their cruel beauty.
Those flowers always fascinated me, since I was a little girl. It was so easy to get lost in every little detail nature drew, like invisible gifts winter left for us at night. I could spend hours watching them in awe, with my nose pressed to the window until my mother scolded me and warned me I’d get cold.
My fingertips were aching but I wasn’t ready to withdraw them just yet. The sight of those crystals brought me back to simpler, happier times when life was good… Maybe times that I invented somehow to feel better about my childhood.
One memory was very clear and I was keeping it in my mind like a beacon and a little candle to chase the loneliness away. I was clutching to it just as hard as to the hope that someday I’ll find meaning.
It was the winter when I was twelve and Christmas truly felt like the most wonderful time of the year, a world full of possibilities. I’d be bouncing around the house, full of too much chocolate, much to the dismay of my mother. It was the one time a year none of her criticisms could get to me as the sugar rush and holiday cheer were too strong. I never tried drugs save for the occasional weed at high school parties but on Christmas, as a kid, I was high on happiness… or so I remembered.
On that beautiful morning, I picked up my little sister Gracie to show her the frosted flowers on the window. I may have even told her that Santa left them for us. She was sitting on my lap and laughing, reaching out to touch the glass just to cry out when it bit her fingers. Gracie turned back to me with laughing bright blue eyes and rebellious strawberry curls flying around her head. She was giggling in spite of the pain and hugged me with her puffy little arms. I’ve never felt so much affection for my angelic baby sister as during that winter. We’d watch the frost until we grew tired, then we attacked the presents under the gorgeous Christmas tree our mother was so proud of. It was the first winter when I prepared cupcakes and hot chocolate for everyone after the traditional lunch. I got so many praises for my work it left me giddy and buzzing for the next few days.
Even today I wonder if that magical day truly happened or I wished it was so there would be something good to go back to. Did those lovely details exist anywhere except in my nostalgic mind? As usual, indulging in that memory left my heart aching even worse than my fingers. The momentary escape to better times made the apartment look even grimmer.
That pain grew even more intense at the realization that winter was the last time little Grace and I were so close.
Now go back to MidWeekTease or click some of the amazing authors below to get to their blogs and teasers. See you next week for more tasty teasers on Wednesday.