Humpday Hump--Lady of the Seals

For this Wednesday's entry, I'm offering an excerpt from Lady of the Seals, one of my favorites, an erotic selkie romance set in Scotland.

If you like what you read, you can find the book at Amazon, or check out the Smashwords edition for half off with the coupon code TW63G.

It was a dream, he thought. It had to be a dream. Or maybe it was heaven, because how else could this have come to pass? He had been halfway to death—more than halfway—and now he lay on the beach in the arms of a beautiful woman with large, brown eyes.

Barely conscious, he registered her presence as if she were a dream. But her skin against him warmed him, gave back some of the life the cold ocean had tried to take.

She was naked, he realized slowly, and so was he. They were rolled up together in a mass of heavy wool blankets, skin to skin, her breasts against his chest, her long legs scissored between his. He remembered, vaguely, the touch of her mouth on his as she put her own life’s breath into him. Now she shared her heat.

He looked at her in the darkness as she lay there against him. Her eyes were closed, and he was almost certain she slept. Gently, he drew his hands down her back, and set his lips against hers. She tasted of life, and the salty ocean. He opened her mouth with his, tasting more deeply, and she stirred against him, and opened her eyes with a smile.

His hands slid down her body, cupping the soft, warm roundness of her buttocks. Her thighs pressed against his and then opened loosely, inviting him in. Wrapped as they were in the blankets, it was difficult for him to align his body the right way, but he eased his thigh between hers as he kissed her. The wetness of her sex made hot dew on the skin of his leg.

She moved closer to him, all of her body a warm welcome to his. He hefted her breasts, bent to take one, then the other, into his mouth. Warmth and more warmth, silky and soft and beautiful.

“I’ll no’ hurt you,” he whispered, though she seemed to have no fear of him. Her hand slid between his thighs, pressing his scrotum against his body. The heat flashed through him, bringing him to life where the ocean had tried so hard to send him to death. She shifted her legs against his and the blankets eased around them. Her fingers, rising up the heavy length of his erection, eased him inside her.

He stilled there, enraptured by her heat. Everything the sea had taken from him—his breath, his warmth, his very life—she had given back. The heat radiated from his sex up through the core of his body, through his limbs, to his skin. Through his heart.

Humpday Humpishness--Call Me Zhenya

My new book is out now on Amazon, and since Marteeka Karland has reinstated the Humpday Hump, I thought I'd offer a contribution. Enjoy!

She woke abruptly to the sound of a growl. Evgeni’s head was still heavy in her lap. The growl came from him; he was dreaming. Anna fought back the surge of adrenaline that had struck her as she jerked awake, but her heart continued to pound hard at the back of her throat. Evgeni twitched against her, the growl morphing to a sort of whine. The sounds, and even the movement of his body as he jerked in the dream’s throes, seemed more dog than man.

The whine disturbed her, especially when it came again, sounding even more mournful and pained than before. She’d had a dog growing up; she’d always woken him up when he made noises like that. She’d always worried, though, that he wouldn’t totally shake off the dream and would awaken with the same fear that caused those sounds, think she was a threat and bite her. She had the same concern about Evgeni now. Instead of waking him right away, she stroked his hair. It had often worked with the dog; she’d stroke it, scratch at its ears, rub its head, and it would settle into a more peaceful sleep.

He quieted as she pushed her fingers through his thick, dark hair, rubbed the back of his skull. “Zhenya,” she murmured. “Shhh.”

He made an odd, breathy sound, and one hand closed on her thigh. She was starting to think he was getting a little personal when he turned his head and buried his face between her legs.

She jumped. That was . . . unexpected. He took a long, deep breath through his nose.

Anna shivered. Instinctively, her hand went to his head, prepared to push him back, but concerned about how he might react. Her hand, though, seem to want to push him closer. That was an interesting conundrum. She tugged gently at his hair, drawing his head to a more neutral position.

He kept sniffing, moving up the side of her body across her ribs, her belly, over her breasts. His nose went into the fold of her armpits. His big hand closed over her breast, the touch almost neutral, as if he were just holding her still and it had provided a convenient handle. He lingered with his nose under her arm for a few long seconds, long enough for it to start to tickle, which was almost a good thing because it distracted her from the uneasy embarrassment settling over her.

Oddly, though, she wasn’t afraid. It was strange, uncomfortable, and she didn’t understand all the ramifications of what he was doing to her, but he wasn’t hurting her. And he wouldn’t. Of that she was certain, but she wasn’t sure why.

His head shifted, but he didn’t stop sniffing. His nose made a line up the side of her neck, to behind her ear, where he drew another deep, long breath. He sniffed at her face—her eyes, her lips. And then traced his tongue across her mouth, soft and hot.

She let him. She held perfectly still and let him. It was strange but not threatening or even uncomfortable. He was taking liberties, yes, but it was the wolf, not the man. And she had a feeling this was a ritual of some kind, something important to the wolf that would help him accept her, see her as a friend.

His tongue slipped past the seam of her lips, tracing the line between them but not asking for entrance. He drew back after a quick taste, and his teeth pressed against her jawbone, a gentle bite between the point of her jaw and the point of her chin. Then he curled up next to her and closed his eyes.

Humpday Hump

Sharing an excerpt from my upcoming release from Crimson Romance: As If You Never Left Me for Marteeka Karland's Humpday Hump blog hop.

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With the Jeep in low gear, she trundled over the uneven, snowy ground until they were shielded by a stand of evergreens.

“Back seat?” he said, mischief in his eyes.

“Damn straight,” she answered, adjusting the driver’s seat as she spoke, moving it forward as far as it would go.

Braving the cold, they got out and climbed into the back seat. Before Joely had quite closed the door, Rey had caught hold of her, dragging her across the back seat, half into his lap. He kissed her, devouring her mouth while his hands slid down her back, cupped her ass. His tongue pressed in, tangling with hers.

Joely laughed. "What?" Rey said, almost as if in protest.

She shook her head, unable really to explain. It just struck her funny, that they were about to make love in the backseat of a car, like teenagers afraid of getting caught by their parents.

He grinned at her, eyes twinkling, and she sensed that he understood. She smiled back. That was the way they had always been—in synch, practically reading each other's minds. It felt good to have that back.

She grappled with the snap on his jeans, with the zipper, finding it quite difficult to get them unfastened while he was sitting. But she managed to get them open, and to work the jeans down his hips and partway down his thighs. He was already firmly erect, and as she worked the jeans down, he worried a rather bent condom package out of his pocket and laid it on the seat next to him.

She smiled up at him, not sure why that particular gesture touched her so much. Maybe because it proved he'd planned ahead, or maybe because it proved he was thinking about protecting her. Either way, it made her warm. Made her love him.

She maneuvered into an uncomfortable sitting position on the floor between the driver's seat and the back seat. She'd positioned the driver's seat to its farthest forward position, so there was some room, but it wasn’t quite enough. Still, she could make do. She adjusted until she was relatively comfortable, sitting between Rey's open knees. He looked down at her, heavy-lidded, lips slightly parted, and put his hand on her head, combing his fingers into her hair. He knew what was coming. Not forcing it, but obviously anticipating it.

She smiled. Tenting her fingertips against his knees, she traced them up his thighs, then back down. His eyes closed and he let his head settle back against the headrest with a soft sigh of contentment.

She slipped her fingers again along his thighs, up to his belly, dropped a fingertip into his navel, lifted it back out again, carefully circumnavigating even the dark curls of his pubic hair. Then, with no preamble, she bent and took him into her mouth. He jumped, gasped, and she chuckled, licking him.

He filled her mouth as well as he did her body, and the taste of his skin brought back memories of other back seats, other blowjobs, quickly going down on him behind bushes at dusk on the college quad. She took him in, deep, all the way to the back of her throat, smiling at the way he fit perfectly against the back of her palate. She had missed that. They fit together like puzzle pieces. His hands fisted gently in her hair and he began to pulse his hips. It felt good. He tasted good. Faster, deeper, and she brought up a hand to curl her fingers around him as he thrust, working his skin, feeling the hardness beneath it. Then, abruptly, he stopped, and drew her head up.

"Inside," he said. "I want to come inside you."