Craving Erotic Romance...

is a group blog from several sassy erotic romance authors!

Find out about our latest releases, read scintillating interviews on Mondays, beat mid-week blahs with Hump Day Help Wednesdays, and see hot hunks on Fridays. Saturdays are "Open Mike" and full of surprises! And then, there's always our guests...!



Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Lucy Felthouse on Hump Wednesday!



Out Now! Cupid by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985 @evernightpub) #holiday #christmas #erotica #romance #shifter #paranormal #pnr

Blurb:
As a postman by day, and one of Santa’s reindeer on a single very special night, Cassius Cupid eats, sleeps, and breathes deliveries. He doesn’t mind, but sometimes wishes that someone would send him something more exciting than bills and junk mail.
One cold January morning, Cassius gets his wish. A young woman arrives with a parcel. Turns out it’s for his housemate – but Cassius doesn’t care. All he’s interested in is Carina – the beautiful female courier.
Has Cupid finally met his match?


*****

Excerpt:
Cassius Cupid woke with a start, and then sat bolt upright in his bed. Shit, I’m going to be late! was his first thought.
Milliseconds later his brain switched on, and he remembered. He was on holiday. Flopping back onto the warm mattress and pillows with a contented sigh, he smiled. No work for fourteen whole days—it was going to be utter bliss. He stretched, relishing the feeling it created in his sleep-softened muscles. Ahhh…this is the life.
He knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep—hell, it was eight o’clock, which was practically the middle of the day for someone in his profession—so Cassius fell to thinking about how he was going to spend his day, not to mention the several others in front of him. God knew he deserved to relax and have some fun. He’d just emerged from the busiest part of his year, and he was more than ready to do some chilling out.
He enjoyed his job as a postman—he really did—but the Christmas period was a total killer. He idly wondered how many cards and presents he’d delivered over the past few weeks. It didn’t bear thinking about. Once you factored in the festive period itself, the weird few days between Christmas and New Year, and then the flurry of mail that got sent when everyone went back to work properly at the beginning of January, he’d racked up some serious deliveries. And that was before you even thought about his other job—which was for just one day a year, but was arguably more important than the other 364 put together.
Cassius—or Cupid, as he was known to his boss and colleagues in his second, but most important job—was not only a regular postman for the Royal Mail, but also a reindeer. For a single day of the year, Cassius had the supernatural power to transform into one of Santa’s faithful steeds and help pull that famous magical sleigh, delivering presents to excited children the world over.
Therefore, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Cassius really did eat, sleep and breathe deliveries, but not for the next fourteen days. All he planned to do was watch some TV, read some books, maybe go out hiking, meet some friends… basically anything that wasn’t delivering something to someone. Hey, he might even receive something through the post himself—preferably not the usual crap; bills and junk mail. He didn’t hold out much hope.
He lounged in bed for another ten minutes before realising he was lying there just for the sake of it. Being on holiday didn’t have to equal staying in bed all day—and certainly not for someone as active as him. He reached over to his bedside table, grabbed his glasses and put them on. Throwing off his thick duvet, he walked to his bedroom window and peeked out through the curtains, immediately glad of the effective central heating he and his housemate had forked out to have installed the previous year.
The outside world was covered in a thick layer of snow, and Cassius was mightily glad that he wasn’t out delivering letters and parcels. The stuff was treacherous enough without having to carry a heavy bag up and down driveways, paths, and pavements — most of which either hadn’t been cleared, or had been cleared badly, leaving incredibly slippery patches of ground for an unsuspecting postie to come across. God knows he’d gone down enough times, but, much to his relief, nobody had ever seen him do it. He’d always been relatively unharmed—excerpt for his pride, of course—and had been able to scramble back to his feet and carry on.
The eerie silence outside was broken by the rumble of an engine, and Cassius turned his head to look up the street—he lived in a cul-de-sac, so he knew that’s where the vehicle would come from—and watched as a delivery van made its way slowly and carefully down the road. He hoped the driver was sensible enough to try and steer over the thickest parts of the snow—the more people went over and over the same patches, packing it down, the more the road surface resembled an ice rink. And since the cul-de-sac was on a slight hill, it was easy enough to get stuck. He’d seen it so many times—even going outside one time last winter to suggest the driver go down to the bottom of the road, turn around and try reversing up the hill—an almost foolproof plan for vans with rear-wheel drive. He’d gotten a big thumbs-up for that suggestion as the driver finally got to the junction where the road became flat, and went on his merry way.
As the van drew closer to his house, he saw that the driver was a woman. That would explain her cautious driving—he’d never admit it to one of his drinking buddies, but women were far superior when it came to driving in adverse weather conditions. He even thought he’d seen some survey containing statistics that proved it.

*****

Author Bio:
Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 140 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9



Monday, December 28, 2015

Please welcome Gale Stanley!

Crossroads HTML
Hi! Thanks for letting me stop by to talk about my new book – Crossroads.  The story was inspired by a recent trip to New Orleans. We stayed at the historic Omni Royal Orleans in the heart of the French Quarter and we were able to walk to all the fantastic restaurants, shopping, and entertainment. We toured the area hit by Katrina, the cemeteries, and the voodoo museum. In movies and TV, voodoo is usually shown as a dark and scary practice.  In reality, it's a religious practice in which the followers have direct contact with the spirits. And that's the story I wanted to tell. The events in Crossroads take place around Christmas, a season of miracles, but really, it could happen any time of the year. All you have to do is believe…
Blurb
Long time lovers, Louis Abellard and Jesse Trudeau work in a Voodoo shop in the French Quarter. Jesse is a believer, but Louis turned his back on the spirits when they allowed his mother to die of cancer.
When Jesse is hospitalized with leukemia, Louis is desperate to save him. He’ll do anything—except ask the spirits for help. Then one night an unlikely ally makes contact, and Louis finds himself at a crossroads. Maybe it’s time to revisit his past and confront his inner demons.
Teaser
Three years ago, Jesse walked into the voodoo shop and asked for a job. It was love at first sight—for Mawmaw and Jesse. They hit it off immediately. Jesse is a believer, the grandson she should have had.
I was smitten, too, but for other reasons. Jesse looked so damn hot, all long blond hair and golden-brown skin like he should have been riding a surfboard instead of a skateboard. His cutoffs were stretched tight over the bulge at his crotch, and being the slut I was back then, I wanted to fuck him. I gave Mawmaw a thumbs-up, and she hired him on the spot.
Jesse stayed for dinner. My grandmother filled his head with ghost stories and his stomach with her spicy shrimp gumbo. I took him to bed later and filled him in other ways. It didn’t take long for lust to turn into the real thing. Fortunately, I didn’t screw things up, and Jesse moved in two weeks later. Jesse is easy to love. I’m not sure what he sees in me, I’m just grateful the feelings are mutual.
Available at
Evernight | Amazon | All Romance | Bookstrand
Author Bio:
Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.
Some things never change.

Friday, December 25, 2015

A Christmas Home April Zyon...



A Christmas Home
Genre: Paranormal, Rubenesque, May-December, Shifters
Release Date: December 15, 2015

Blurb:

Ophelia Lambros thought her life was in order, until she lost her fiance and job all in one day.

She couldn’t return the honeymoon trip she'd been given so she takes the opportunity to find herself on the slopes of Wyoming on the back of a snowmobile.

Jagger Morris was perfectly happy running his repair shop in Shifter Falls, his home for years. As the Kodiak Bear Alpha, he has a lot on his plate. When a new pack asks to join them, Jagger’s hackles rise, but he doesn't know why.

When he meets his fated mate, Ophelia, she shares a piece of herself that confirms his suspicious nature was spot on. As a seer, she can see death coming their way. Can she make her new mate and his friends understand the risk before time runs out?



Purchase Links:

Evernight Publishing     |     Amazon US     |     Amazon CA     |     Amazon UK
Barnes & Noble     |     Bookstrand     |     AllRomance



Excerpt:

Throwing the wrench down onto the tool pad, Jagger scrubbed a hand down his face. There were days he loved being a mechanic. Then there were days like today where he knew he should have listened to his mother and gotten into something else. Not that he’d ever tell the woman, even if he was still speaking to her. She already thought too highly of her own opinions. Gods only knew where the woman was today, at least she wasn’t in Shifter Falls giving him even more trouble so that was good.

He grabbed the bottle of water he’d been working on and took a long haul while staring at the engine in question. He was missing something, and it was really starting to piss him off that he couldn’t figure it out.

For the last ten years, he’d been head mechanic at the only automotive shop in Shifter Falls. They were the only one there because they only hired the best and did the best work. Competitors didn’t stand a hope in hell. There had been a few other places that had tried to start up in the Falls. But they’d all shut down within a year because they hadn’t had what it took to work in such a closely knit town. That and they’d been outsiders, something that didn’t go over well with the very private residents who ran the town.

Founded by a shifter pack more than two hundred years prior, the town was home to six different types of shifters. Only through harsh laws and firm hands at the helm of each pack did it work. Especially considering the mix the Falls had running around.

There were plenty of humans living and working there, too, but the majority of the population was other. Sometimes there were problems. Sometimes there were all-out fights, but in the end they all knew they had to live together so things had better damn well work out. Which they usually did, eventually.

Moving to the open door of the bay he was working in, he stared out at the falling snow. The weatherman had predicted another couple of inches throughout the day, and more overnight. Great for all the tourists currently running around Shifter Falls in search of as many wintertime activities as they could find. It also had its perks for the business. It was amazing how many out-of-state tourists had no idea how to handle driving in snow.

He spotted a friend and lifted a hand in greeting. Conroy Hayden was the owner of On The Plate, one of four restaurants in Shifter Falls. The guy was a damn connoisseur when it came to flavors. Likely why his restaurant had managed to get rave reviews in several travel and food magazines. Since then people had come to Shifter Falls not only for the events held but in the hopes to get a table in his restaurant.

“Con, good to see you. I have to admit I didn’t think you’d actually get out during the lunch rush.”

The large redhead shrugged and shot him a smirk. “Figured I should bring you something to eat or you’d forget. Again.”

Jagger spotted the bag then and felt his belly rumble. He’d only had a piece of toast and several cups of coffee for breakfast that morning. It was already one in the afternoon and he wasn’t exactly a small guy. Waving Conroy into the bay, he followed behind the man, shooting the troublesome engine a glare. He cleared off a spot on his work table before grabbing a couple stools to set in front. He took one while Conroy unloaded the bag, hitting Jagger with the scent of cooked meat and spices. His stomach let out a hungry snarl that earned him a knowing look from his friend. Jagger held his tongue, knowing anything he said would only provide Con with more ammo to use against him at a later date.

He accepted the plate from his friend and unwrapped it. A huge pile of roast beef he knew was slow cooked, mashed potatoes, and seasonal greens from the greenhouse at the end of town. Con handed him a little container which held gravy, utensils, and a napkin.

“Thanks,” he said. Cutting off a piece of the beef, Jagger slowly chewed the perfectly cooked meat. It practically melted on his tongue. “Damn this is good,” he practically moaned. Another bite he chewed slowly. He knew better than to shove Con’s food down his throat as fast as possible. The man would beat him silly. And Con was nearly as large as Jagger. They’d both taken boxing as kids, but Jagger had plain meanness on his side. Con was a good soul who wanted to help others, which was why he’d gotten into feeding folks. He said the food was good for the soul and part of why On The Plate did the soup kitchen for those who needed a helping hand.

After finishing the meal, Jagger wiped his mouth while Con packed up the dishes. The secondary dish caught his attention. “What’s that?”

“Dessert,” Con told him.

Accepting the dish, he pulled the top off and inhaled the scent from the hot dessert. It was a crumble of some sort. Rhubarb, for sure, definitely strawberries, but there was something else. He took a bite and let out a moan of pleasure.

“I’m going to assume you like it.”

“Dude, this is spectacular. What all’s in here?”

“The usual, but I threw in some cranberries this time for a more seasonal flavor. Gives it a different taste.”

He nodded, it did at that. Scraping out the last, he licked off the spoon under Con’s knowing watch and passed it back. Another wipe with his napkin before he tossed it into the garbage closest and leveled a look at his friend. “I guess this wasn’t just your need to feed me, since you usually dump and run. What’s going on?”

“Don’t know yet but figured I’d give you a heads-up. The sheriff and a couple deputies were in for lunch today and we got to talking. Apparently there are rumblings from the city council about another pack wanting to set up shop here. They’re calling an emergency meeting tomorrow night to discuss it with the alphas and their seconds. You’ll be getting the call soon, but I wanted to let you know before you got it. I know how much you hate surprises.”

That was an understatement. The last surprise Jagger had gotten was his parents divorcing, his father leaving the Falls, and his mother hooking up with the first of many younger males to keep her bed warm. Since then he’d managed to avoid being surprised with the help of those he called and considered to be true friends, like Conroy. Without them, he’d have been caught with his pants down more than once. But they looked out for him, and he helped look out for them in turn. They were more his family than his parents ever had been.

“I’ll be ready, thanks.” Standing, he gave his friend the quintessential man hug and walked him out of the bay. He stayed there a moment longer to watch the comings and goings of the locals and tourists before turning to face his current nemesis. One way or another he was damn well going to get this thing running. Then he could take it over to the hotel and return it to the tourist to which it belonged.

“All right, you giant hunk of metal, let’s get down to business.”


Social Media Links:




Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Welcome Robin Badillo!



Donner and Prancer
Release Date: December 16, 2015
                                                             

Noah Donner had it all. Good looks, great job, and a kick-ass gift. As a special breed of shifter, every Christmas Eve he assisted Santa as one of his famous reindeer. A lover of all women, he’s the quintessential playboy. But all that changed within weeks of Christmas, when he found himself drawn to another reindeer shifter, Mira Prancer.
Not exactly sleek reindeer material, full-figured Mira took pride in her gift as a shifter, while not nearly as confident about herself when in human form. Usually a timid wallflower, Mira is surprised to learn she’s Noah’s latest target, and after a drunken night of unexpected passion, they find themselves in a quandary.
Neither can deny the attraction, but Mira will need more than words to trust the sexy Casanova.
Can the two love-struck shifters play nice? Or will this little Reindeer Game require a little Christmas magic?


Adult Excerpt:

Noah nudged her against the door, closing it behind them.
Mira gasped. His smoldering expression turned her stomach upside down, and heat pooled between her legs. Had he cast a spell, stealing away her ability to escape? Her skin tingled at the thought of giving in to his silent intent.
Noah’s hands found her midsection and needy eyes drank her in as though she were a mug of hot, buttered rum on a cold winter’s night.
I’ve totally lost my mind. “Is this really happening?” Did I say that aloud?
Noah’s eyes gleamed and a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Oh, it’s happening.” He slowly leaned in, and his lips grazed hers, immediately followed by his tongue. Warm swipes plunged deeper with each pass, triggering moisture that dampened her panties.
Mira’s knees buckled and Noah scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the sofa as though she weighed next to nothing.
His kisses grew more passionate. Deeper. Hungrier.
Mira could hardly catch her breath. This was crazy. Insane. “Get the fuck out!”
Noah stopped. A look of confusion and shock flashed in his eyes. “What?”
Mira laughed, covering her mouth as heat rushed to her cheeks. “I’m sorry. That sort of slips out whenever I’m surprised.”
Noah’s brow pinched. “You’re surprised?”
She bit back another laugh and went with an enthusiastic nod instead.
“Why?”
Mira’s head spun and she strained to sit upright. How could she explain this? “Men like you don’t come home with women like me, Noah.”
He shook his head. “Why?”
He sounded like a broken record now.
“Be-because,” she said stammering through her reply. “Look at you.”
Noah rose and stood by the sofa, gazing down at her. “What about me?”
“Uh … well, you’re built like a Greek god and you have a reputation as a …” She searched for the correct words—words that held a little more delicacy than man-whore. “Ladies’ man?”
“Humph.” He rested his hands on his hips. “Ladies’ man, huh?”
“I was being polite.” Mira squirmed.
Noah’s eyebrows arched high. “Is that so?” He folded his arms across his chest. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel, Mira?”
Bile shot up in the back of her throat as her nervous demeanor morphed into one a little more hostile. “How I really feel?” Dozens of irritating things about the man came to mind. Everything from his obnoxious, too-loud laugh, to the ugly reindeer sweater he wore, to the Christmas party every friggin’ year. “Well … for starters, you brag about your conquests entirely too much.” She’d keep her comments limited to the facts rather than opinions. “You treat women like trophies and well … you seem to have a serious problem with my ass.” The last part flew out of her mouth so fast she had no time to reel it back in.


Links:


Author Bio:

Robin Badillo and her pseudonym, Tyler Robbins, is a down to earth mother of four, born and raised in a small Texas town where she still resides with her nearly grown kids and a pack of spoiled dogs.
After years of being a wife and mom, complete with company picnics and fundraisers for the P.T.A., Robin found herself starting over when her husband of fifteen years suddenly passed away. With no particular skills to speak of other than making killer chili con queso, Robin took the advice of friends and family, and followed her heart and passion for writing into the publishing world.
A fan of paranormal and southern romance novels, Robin does her best to offer up a plethora of tasty morsels to satisfy her readers’ appetite. Whether mainstream and/or paranormal erotic romance or Tyler’s LGBT romance line, Robin strives to create characters who are endearing and relatable.
Adversity is Robin’s motivation, which explains why she’s a true believer that grey hair is simply God’s graffiti.

Author Links:
Facebook:
Twitter:
Website/Blog

Monday, December 21, 2015

Erzabet Bishop stops by with a scintillating Monday interview!




Welcome to Craving Erotic Romance Blogspot.

Today we’re presenting Author: Erzabet Bishop!
                                               
1) Have you always wanted to be an author?

Yes. Ever since I was a child I loved to play with words.
2) What genre(s) do you write?

I write erotic romance under Erzabet Bishop and under my other pen name I write light romance, teen and horror.

3)  Have you ever self published?

Only in box sets.

4) Who or what inspired you to write your first book?

Rad Bradbury. He had a quote that went something like: Write a short story every week. Sooner or later you won’t be terrible. I took that to heart.

5) How many hours in a day might you write?

As many as I can around my full time job and marketing my current works.

6) Are you a plotter or a pantser?

A little of both.

7) Do you ever find yourself slipping away and becoming so immersed in your  story it affects how you relate to others?

Sometimes. You have to immerse yourself in the story to really get it and occasionally I want to live in the books I write.

8) Are you in any of your books?

Yes. There are little parts of me in every book I write.

9) What do your friends and family have to say about you writing?

For the most part they are supportive. My hubby wishes I would write more teen books. Lol.  

10) Please share an excerpt from your book that totally spoke to you when you put the words down on paper.

From: A Red Dress for Christmas…
  
That morning Neil kissed her as she clutched her coffee, backing her into the counter, his erection hard. It had been months since he'd done that and she needed to set down the mug for fear of slopping it all over the floor. He kissed her long and hard, his mouth voracious, his hands roaming her curves like he used to when they were new lovers. Like the beach. The museum. Or even the back seat of her car one Saturday night. Her pulse quickened at the memories and a slow smile tilted up her lips.
“Wear the black dress with the garters. I'll be home to pick you up.”
Right.
Promises, promises.
Still … the prodding erection in her stomach did give a woman hope. Maybe it was the danger of it all. The fear of exposure. She fingered the camera again and grinned.
“I’ll give you some exposure.” Cecily pivoted toward the Christmas tree and her lips turned up in a smile.
Was it dangerous enough? A sexy selfie or two … Maybe laying in front of the tree or fucking herself with a candy cane from the jar in the kitchen. Her job at the library normally kept her busy, but now it was closed for the holidays and she was alone with her thoughts. Too alone. She glanced down at Lulu.
“Hey, baby. Do you want a treat?”
The little dog woofed, her black button eyes following Cecily's movements as she walked to the pantry. The heels echoed on the ceramic tile floor and Cecily grimaced.
All dressed up and nowhere to go.
She opened the large plastic container that held the doggie treats and smiled. Lulu stood on her hind legs, her little pink tongue curling out of her mouth.
“God, but you are a cutie.”
Cecily handed the pup her treat. Lulu scampered into the living room next to the tree. She was the funniest little thing and so very observant. She always knew when Cecily was down and tried her best to help. She held up the phone and snapped a picture. Maybe she could send one of those first. Throw him off.

Buy links:
Evernight Publishing: http://goo.gl/cGh5sg
All Romance E-books: https://goo.gl/Q4F0Bp

Erzabet Bishop is a bestselling and award winning author who loves to write naughty stories. She is the author of Lipstick, Dinner Date, Crave, The Science of Lust, Wicked for You, Arcane Imaginarium: Spirit Board, Holidays in Hell, Sigil Fire, Written on Skin, Club Beam, Pomegranate, A Red Dress for Christmas, The Black Magic Café, Fantasies in Red, Sweet Seductions: The Erzabet Bishop Collection, Holiday Cruise, Fetish Fair, Temptation Resorts: Jess, Temptation Resorts: Marnie, Taming the Beast, The Erotic Pagans Series: Beltane Fires, Samhain Shadows and Yuletide Temptation along with being a contributor to many anthologies. Erzabet has been a finalist in the GCLS awards for 2014 and 2015, winning the Goldie for her spot in two anthologies. She has been nominated for the 2016 Golden Flogger Award for Crave. She lives in Texas with her husband, furry children and can often be found lurking in local bookstores. She loves to bake, make naughty crochet projects and watch monster movies. When she isn’t writing, she loves to review music and books.

Follow her reviews and posts on Twitter @erzabetbishop.

Links:
Newsletter and website: http://erzabetwrites.wix.com/erzabetbishop
Are: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Erzabet+Bishop
Facebook “like” page: https://www.facebook.com/erzabetbishopauthor
Amazon author page:http://www.amazon.com/Erzabet-Bishop/e/B00AVSDUBC/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_7
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6590718.Erzabet_Bishop
Street team: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1018269998190112/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/erzabet.bishop
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/erzabetbishop/Review Blog: http://erzabetsenchantments.blogspot.com/



Friday, December 18, 2015

Doris O'Connor and Raven McAllan present their coauthored book!


Thanks so much for having the lovely Raven and me on your blog today. You know, we often talked about writing a book together, but that’s as far as it went. Then our reader group The RavdorChicks started nagging us—in the nicest possible way of course—that they would love us to write a story together.

So, after much frantic skype messaging, where we brainstormed ideas, and one very sleepless night from me, when the start of a workable story actually came to me, the idea was born.

What followed was a fun filled four days with Raven in Scotland, where we put our heads down, fuelled by wine, chocolate, and Gin&Tonics, and our fingers flew.

We had so much fun writing this story I can say this won’t be our last collaboration.  We hope readers will like The Dukes’ Christmas Abductions as much as we loved writing this story.

Much love from both of us!

Stay naughty now, folks.

D & R xxx





Blurb:

Follow your heart and cross space and time…
When Clara lands the job as curator of Faversham House it’s a dream come true. Especially when her favorite Regency Erotica writer Vicky Hopewell shadows her in the run up to the annual estate ball—a tradition left over from Regency times.
The costume ball is always the highlight of the year, but neither woman expects to be confronted by two drop dead gorgeous Dukes.
Daniel Danvers, the Duke of Hockwell thinks Clara is one of the servants invited to the estate ball.
Kit Capel, the Duke of Aulban cannot understand why his wife Victoria acts as though she doesn’t know him.
As both couples slowly come to terms with the reality of their situations, can they find happiness? Is it as simple as following your heart?

Be Warned: bondage, spanking


Buy it from: Evernight  Amazon   Amazon UK   ARe  Bookstrand


Excerpt (18+):

Daniel paused mid swatting the delectable arse in front of him to rub, what must be a considerable ache by now, away. His quarry had stopped screaming for this Vicky, at last, and unless his senses were completely off, she was starting to enjoy his attention. Certainly her breaths were coming in short gasps, and instead of struggling, she was raising her bottom into every carefully placed swat of his hand.
The evening was definitely looking up. As was his cock, which was in danger of splitting his evening breeches.
There was one way to find out for sure. Daniel slipped his fingers under the hideous undergarments, and smirked at the all over body shiver his girl gave. Satisfied with not only her reaction but also by the wet, hair-free cunt he found, he let his digits linger.
“Oh, god.”
Her breathless moan spurred him on, and he grinned when he found her hidden pearl. She shivered again when he circled the tight nub, and Daniel set up lazy circles, designed to drive any woman wild. This chit proved no exception. The air grew heavy with the musk of aroused woman, and Daniel inhaled deeply, before he stopped the movement.
A strangled groan escaped his girl, and he tapped her arse again, when she tried to rub her cunt on his fingers.
“Oh, no, you don’t. I want the truth, starting with your name, and maybe then I’ll let you find release. Only on my say so, though, are we clear here, girl?”
“Fuck, yes … ow.”
Her arse cheeks wobbled most satisfactorily, when he yanked that odd fabric down to her knees, and delivered a few more swats to her delectable arse. The woman had a derriere made for fucking, hips to grab onto while he sunk his cock into her body and claimed what was his. That thought made his head come up. His? He had no business having proprietary thoughts toward a servant like that.
“Fuck, we most certainly will, but not without you telling me who you are, so…” He delivered another open handed swat across both of her arse cheeks this time, and her answering deep throated moan made him go so hard it was a wonder he hadn’t spilled in his breeches yet.
“Clara, Sir. My name is Clara.”
Daniel slid his fingers through her sodden slit, and flicked her nub once, causing her to give another one of those cock hardening moans.
“Very nice, but the correct address would be my lord, chit, would it not?”
A strangled groan was his response this time, and when he withdrew his fingers again, she slumped.
“Sorry, My Lord.
The girl, Clara, he mentally amended, had fire, that was for sure, if the intonation she gave his title was anything to go by. A certain amount of boldness was something Daniel certainly appreciated in his bed partners. If Clara was a lady’s maid, she was wasted in that position. As his mistress, however…  His mood improved dramatically as that thought took hold.
It was Christmas, time to be charitable and all that went with such bounty, and what could be better than elevating this lovely creature from her status of mere servant to his mistress.
Mind thus made up, it was time to taste her nectar and to see if what he was suspecting would be true. That Clara and he would mesh perfectly in the bedroom, and he could let his darker desires shine through.
He indulged himself by sliding several digits through her wet cunt, lubricating them with her juices, before he slipped one finger into her tight channel, and brought his thumb to press against the puckered hole, guarding that entrance.
Clara stiffened slightly, but she didn’t voice any protest, and when he started to thrust the finger in her cunt slowly in and out of her, she gasped. Her hips rose in involuntary jerks, which told him how close she already was to exploding under his ministrations. Her untutored responses made him want to hurry this along, but Daniel was never an inconsiderate lover. He would give her several releases before he claimed his own.
“Good girl, and who do you work for?”
Clara moaned and writhed against him, her internal muscles fluttering around his fingers in rippling moves, which signaled her impending orgasm as clearly as the rosy flush spreading across her skin. So beautifully responsive. She jerked when he tapped her nub, and then withdrew his hand.
“Faversham Estate. Oh god, please, My Lord … I.” The rest of her pretty little plea was lost in a screech as he swung her off his lap and onto his bed.  Her breasts bounced most satisfactorily, and her lovely almond shaped green eyes widened further when he crawled onto the bed with her, and straddled her midriff. Daniel grasped her arms and brought them high above her head. The action made her breasts rise up in silent offering, and Daniel smirked.
“Hmm, that would mean you work for me. How delightful. Whatever position you hold here, I much prefer you in this one, unable to move and at my mercy. I’m going to tie your wrists together and tether you to one of the posts, sweet Clara. Is that acceptable to you?”

*****





About the Authors:

Doris O’Connor

Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get.  From contemporary to paranormal, Time Travel, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

Happily married for the last twenty-five years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.

Stalk her in these places    
         




Raven McAllan
Raven lives in Scotland, along with her husband—their children having flown the nest—surrounded by beautiful scenery, which inspires a lot of the settings in her books.
She is used to sharing her life with the occasional deer, red squirrel, and lost tourist, to say nothing of the scourge of Scotland—the midge.
A lover of reading, she appreciates the history inside a book, and the chance to peek into the lives of those from years ago. Raven admits that she enjoys the research for her books almost as much as the writing; so much so, that sometimes she realizes she's strayed way past the information she needs to know, and not a paragraph has been added to her WIP.
She admits she's no domestic goddess, and wonders why tourists think she might run the local bed and breakfast. She doesn't.
Her lovely long-suffering husband is learning to love the dust bunnies, work the Aga, and be on stand-by with a glass of wine.

Stalk her in these places