Sunday, December 10, 2017

No man has held her interest beyond a second date #newrelease #erotica @AuthorLynnBurke Elite Escorts #series @evernightpub

NEW FROM LYNN BURKE!
Second Go-Round
Elite Escorts #2
Contemporary Erotic Romance, Suspense

Christine Gemberling doesn’t enjoy breaking hearts, but she has yet to find a man who knows how to handle the package between his legs well enough to satisfy her needs. No man has held her interest beyond a second date—much less her love. Until one sultry night with an Elite Escort rocks her world like never before.

Professional escort Jarod Zimmerman has a strict code when working with clients—no emotional attachments. But the beer-drinking, football loving Christine and her curves push beyond his control, until the guarded playboy finds himself craving another go-round with the only woman intriguing enough to make him break his own code.

With her defenses stronger than his favorite football team, it will take more than Jarod’s talents in bed to change her stance on relationships. He’ll have to sacrifice his heart when the unexpected circumstance thrown their way threatens to rip them apart forever.


*Warning: Exhibition, spanking, anal sex, sex toys

PURCHASE LINKS:

~~~oOo~~~
Excerpt:
Jarod lowered onto the limo seat beside me and pressed close, his large hand grasping the top of my thigh.
“Where to?” Ricky asked as he settled behind the wheel a moment later.
I spouted off my address quite a ways up Route 1, and with a nod, he shut the window between us, encasing Jarod and I in complete privacy. Soft music came to life, and seconds later, the limo pulled out into Boston’s nighttime traffic.
“For the first go-round, I’m going to fuck you against the front door of your house, but right now,” Jarod said, lowering to his knees in front of me, “I’m going to bury my nose between these thighs and lick your cunt until you squirm.” 
“I like the way you think,” I said, my voice breathless, betraying my body’s need.
His hands slid up my thighs, pushing my skirt into a bunch. I wiggled, assisting in his plan, and he yanked me to the seat’s edge.
“Comfy?” he asked, trailing a fingertip against the soaked silk covering me.
“Comfy enough.”
Jarod hooked his fingers under the sides of my panties and pulled them down my legs, releasing my heeled feet one at a time. He tossed the panties aside, and grasping my knees, spread me wide.
“Bare.” He stared at the smooth skin between my thighs as he moved close. “I like that.” Palming my ass, he lifted me and buried his face in my pussy as promised, my moan and his groan colliding in the air between us.
My eyelids fluttered shut and head tipped back as he ate me out like a starving man. Tongue, nose, and teeth, he didn’t pussyfoot around, but tortured me with his need to taste every inch, fuck me deep with his long tongue, nibble my swollen lips … flick and suck my throbbing clit.
My fingers found purchase in his hair, and I ground myself against his face, chasing my orgasm. Bastard let off and dipped low to lick my ass and tongue me every time I neared the crest. I tried to force his head back up to my clit, but he held steady, denying me what I wanted.
“Goddamn it, Jarod!” I yanked on his hair as my clit popped from his mouth’s suction again and he roamed southward to my ass.
He snickered and caught my gaze as his tongue rimmed my puckered hole.
My hold tightened on his hair, my heart thundered in my chest. “Please. I need to come.”
Finally—finally—he pressed two fingers deep into my sopping wet core. “Is this what you need, Christine? My fingers fucking your cunt and my mouth on your clit?”
“Oh, fuck.” My head tipped back again as he latched onto my clit. “Don’t stop. Please … Christ, don’t stop!” You’d think I hadn’t climaxed in months the way my orgasm ripped through me. 
Jarod’s fingers and tongue drew out every clench of my pussy, every shudder rippling down through me as I gasped for breath. He lapped up every trace of my cum and sucked his fingers clean, the noises in his throat barely reaching through the ringing in my ears. 
I sagged into the leather seat, sucking wind. “Holy shit. It’s no wonder you get paid to please a woman.”
Elite Escorts Series
First Time - Coming Jan 2018
Zero Tolerance - Coming Jan 2018 
~~~oOo~~~
GIVEAWAY!
A $10 Amazon Gift Card and wrap around Author Lynn Burke mug!
~~~oOo~~~
 
About Lynn Burke:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life. 
Links

Saturday, December 9, 2017

How can two people from such different worlds share a future? From @lisabetsarai #newrelease #erotica #FF


New Release!
Citadel of Women:
Asian Adventures Book 2
By Lisabet Sarai


Contemporary multicultural erotic romance (X rated)
8,700 words
Smashwords and Amazon KDP
ISBN: 9781370094400
ASIN:
HFN ending


Passion flares among the ruins of an ancient empire


When her lover severs their relationship just before a long-planned trip to Angkor Wat, Doa stubbornly decides to travel alone. The marvelous sights of the ancient Khmer empire do little to heal the rift in her heart. Che, the mercurial young tour guide, senses her loneliness and offers her comfort and passion. Their connection is far more than physical – but how can two people from such different worlds share a future?


Buy Links








X-Rated Excerpt

A soft knocking at the door jolted me back to reality. I clutched at the sheet, my heart slamming against my ribs. Maybe whoever it was would go away. The knock came again, more insistent.

“Doa? Are you awake?”

I didn't have to answer it. If I didn't answer, he'd have to leave. Wouldn't he? But was that what I wanted?

I grabbed the batik sarong I'd bought in Bangkok, wrapped it around my body and tied it over my breasts. Liquid trickled down the inside of my thighs as I padded to the door. Musk hovered in the sticky air.

I opened the door. Che stood there, barefoot, clad in a T-shirt and boxer shorts. His hair was tousled.  His eyes burned.

“I couldn't sleep,” he murmured. He stepped into the room. I closed the door behind him.

His arms snaked around me, pulling me to his chest. He was stronger than he looked. He nuzzled my neck, licked his way up to my ear lobe and flicked at it with his tongue. A bolt of pleasure shot through me, targeting my pussy. He silenced my moan with his mouth, capturing mine in a wet kiss. I tasted the beer we'd drunk, the chilies he'd eaten.

I let my arms clasp his slender body to my riper one, accepting what he offered. My rational self warned I'd regret this. When I grasped his rigid cock through the well-worn shorts, his groan drowned out the voice of caution.

As I stroked his hardness, he unknotted my sarong. His hands sought the weight of my breasts. He cradled them, kneading my ripe flesh and tracing voluptuous circles around my nipples. Warm honey flowed through my limbs. I pulled the threadbare boxers down over his lean hips so I could sample his nakedness. A musky funk rose from his privates. His cock was long like his fingers, slender and graceful as the rest of him, and harder than the stones of the ancient city. Wrapped in skin as soft and delicate as a baby's, it pulsed in my hand, alive with need.

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai has been addicted to words all her life. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – nearly one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.  Sign up for her VIP email list here:  https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh



Thursday, December 7, 2017

The kiss seared desire through Indigo and he slid his palms along the satiny skin of One’s muscled chest with a groan #newrelease #MMromance #erotica

Gorgeous, powerful warlock, Indigo Vaughn, sells his magic spells to people looking to make a dream come true. One night, as he gazes down on the city below from his sky barge The Dreamboat, he wonders why, in centuries, his own wish for a man to love hasn’t materialized.
Beautiful, sexy, Darian O’Harr has suffered his fair share of misery. He’s a musician and learned long ago to sing for his supper. New to the city, he comes to Indigo seeking a spell that will bring him the love of a handsome man.
As soon as he sets eyes on Indigo, his heart races and his body betrays his pent up needs.
Here is the man of his dreams. What can Darian do as the warlock gathers his magic to cast a spell that will bring him another man?

Warnings MMMM gay menage , rimming, MM sex

Be teased
18+ 
Indigo didn’t sleep well for three nights after meeting Darian. On the fourth night he didn’t sleep at all. His sexual needs beat at him, until he couldn’t think straight. His desire burned until all he could think about was fucking. He pushed his breakfast around on his plate the next morning. That day he stalked the corridors of The Dreamboat eschewing meetings and focused only on the security arrangements for the queen’s celebrations. At sixteen hundred hours he called Milan to his side.

“Will you make an appointment at Temptations for me? Twenty-three hundred hours will be good.”

Milan’s gentle smile comforted him. “One, Two, or Three, sir?”

Indigo shook his head slowly. His desire threatened to overwhelm him. Nearly crazed with sexual need, Indigo needed to deal with it or be incomplete for weeks to come. “All of them. Thank you.”

Moments later, Milan returned. “You’re expected at Temptations, twenty-three hundred hours as you requested. Permit me to take you there and wait to bring you home?”

“Yes, of course.”
****

Temptations buzzed with chatter and thumped with music in the main downstairs room. People danced, some grinding their bodies against each other’s.

A host met Indigo. “It’s been a while, sir. I trust you are well. Your requested companions are ready.”

Indigo nodded. He silently followed the host to the upstairs room where beautiful men he knew only by a number would slake his desires that night.

The host left him.

Indigo wore only a belted kilt and ankle length hooded cloak over his naked body. He stepped out of his soft suede ankle boots, and waited, his cock already half-erect with anticipation.

Gorgeous men entered the room, their naked bodies muscled, their eyes dark with desire, they came to Indigo silently.

Indigo savored their looks, big cocks already filling out into erections. His admiring gaze raked over the men, their lush dark hair, soft and well-cut, blue eyes, gray eyes, smooth skin free of body hair, and his cock jerked as his stomach tightened. He loved men. These men were the best of Temptations male brothel, and they’d serviced him once before a year ago. He sighed recalling the satisfaction. The night sparkled with promise. He watched with growing sexual hunger.

One carried a tray and placed it on the table away from the huge low bed. On the tray—a carafe of water so cold it misted the glass, sachets of lube, condoms, sex toys, tissues, and a wine glass.

One unclipped Indigo’s cloak and after grazing his lips on Indigo’s, he brought the cloak to a freestanding rail and hung it.

A low murmur of appreciation fell from Indigo’s mouth as he savored the fleeting kiss from One’s perfect lips.

Two knelt and traced his fingertips up and down Indigo’s legs, reaching his balls and circling feather light touches there that made Indigo’s cock fill out in a delicious slow sensation.

Indigo closed his eyes with lust as his stomach tightened and jerked his cock when Two stroked the backs of his thighs.

Three took the belt from Indigo’s kilt as One slid his hands around Indigo’s face and held him fast kissing him hungrily. The kiss seared desire through Indigo and he slid his palms along the satiny skin of One’s muscled chest with a groan.

Copyright E.D.Parr  2017, Evernight Publishing 


The Dreamboat sizzling new release MM romantic erotica out now and 
on launch special discount price at Evernight Publishing 
Coming soon to Siren Bookstrand, KOBO, NOOK


Tuesday, December 5, 2017

Blog guest @MHarte_Author makes a tour stop with #newrelease #contemporaryromance and a #giveaway

ANY GIVEN SNOW DAY
by Marie Harte

Genre: Contemporary Romance


Ex-NFL star + snarky single mom = a touchdown of a holiday romance

After two Super Bowl rings, MVP status, and retiring from the NFL while still on top, Mitch “Flash” Flashman’s millions should make life at the ripe old age of thirty-five a blessing. Yet he’s restless, rudderless, and can’t tell up from down. Roped into helping his brother coach a bunch of teenagers, Mitch finds himself playing defense against the many women in town wanting his attention. Except for one particular woman who doesn’t seem to like him much. Becca Bragg is mouthy, vulnerable, and sexy, and she captivates Mitch despite himself. But Mitch has no time for a sexy single mom when he’s still trying to figure out who he really is. With the playoffs, a boy’s future, and his own heart on the line, he’ll need to figure out how to pull the ultimate victory—winning Becca’s heart and keeping it. For good.


Mitch stared at a feminine version of Simon Bragg. A few inches shorter than her behemoth son, she had long, dark-brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, and a frown that would do Simon proud.

A subtle glance and he catalogued her feminine assets. Check, check, and check. A stunner if not for the scowl on her face. Her assistant, the other pretty brunette he’d seen with Simon at the game, just grinned at him before hustling away.

“Hello. Mrs. Bragg?”

“Yes?” Cool and collected.

Funny, but his heart was racing. Mitch had been with supermodels, actresses, professional athletes. Some had possessed the same qualities Rebecca Bragg did, that essence of attraction that sparked something in his brain…and in other places. But Mitch didn’t do married chicks. Ever. Best to remember that.

He cleared his throat. “I’d like to talk to you about Simon.”

Her frown deepened. “Is he okay? What happened?”

Mitch had debated how to broach the subject. After talking to Deacon, they’d decided Mitch should be the one to talk to her. He still wasn’t sure how they’d come up with that, other than that his brother was a scum-sucking wimp who’d rather face a firing squad than an irate mother.

“As far as I know, Simon is fine. I wanted to talk to you about his attitude though.”

She snorted.

Just like her son.

“And before you say this is somehow about me not understanding him because I’m the new guy, you need to know that Simon has been acting out and is pretty much annoying most of the team.”

She studied him in silence.

He wondered what she saw. Did she see the regular guy who’d rather be running down a field or hiding out in his home, reading history books and watching movies? Or did she see the confident, laughing playboy everyone thought him to be?

“Come with me.” She turned and walked into the back of her teahouse.

He followed her toward the sweet smells coming from a small kitchen. Entranced by the scent of vanilla and cinnamon, he took a big sniff. “What are you making?”

“Sticky buns, my version of cinnamon rolls. Hold on.” She took a few steps toward the doorway and shouted, “Nora, can you watch the front? I’m in a meeting.”

Nora laughed and said something he couldn’t make out but apparently Rebecca could.

She flushed and returned, putting the center island between them. He wondered if her husband had a hard time dealing with her moods, then thought the lucky guy probably didn’t much care. A woman who could bake and looked like her? A win-win…until she opened her mouth.

“Well?” She waited.

He just stared.

“What?”

“I’m trying to figure out how to say this without you getting offended. I would have called your husband, but Simon wouldn’t give me his number.”

Something that looked like pain flashed across her face. “My husband is dead. Now what did you want to talk about?”

Wow. Talk about stepping right into it. Might have been nice if the kid had explained his father was no longer alive when Mitch had mentioned the guy. “Sorry. Simon didn’t tell me.”

She sighed. “So what has my son done that brings the ‘Amazing Flash’ to my lowly shop?”

He ignored the heat on his face. “You know, if you’d heard the whole conversation, you might not be so quick to judge.”

“You’re here to talk about Simon?”

Fine. He wouldn’t explain himself to this sexy, stuck-up viper. Wait. Where had sexy come from? Rebecca Bragg was more girl-next-door…with a side of sexy. Damn her full mouth.




AmazoniTunes  KoboGoodreads



Caffeine addict, boy referee, and romance aficionado, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Marie Harte has over 100 books published with more constantly on the way. She’s a confessed bibliophile and devotee of action movies. Whether hiking in Central Oregon, biking around town, or hanging at the local tea shop, she’s constantly plotting to give everyone a happily ever after. Visit Marie's website and fall in love.

Facebook ✯ Website ✯ Twitter ✯ Goodreads ✯ Amazon

Monday, December 4, 2017

Out Now The Prison of the Angels, the final Book of the Watchers by Janine Ashbless @sinfulpress #PNR #romance



When there’s a war in Heaven, on which side will you stand?

The Prison of the Angels is the new paranormal erotic romance by Janine Ashbless, and is the final novel in the Book of the Watchers trilogy.

“I thought I was a good girl. I thought that no matter what others did for my sake, I could stay innocent. I thought that as long as I acted out of love, I’d be blameless.
I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

Janine Ashbless is back with the third and final instalment of her Book of the Watchers trilogy, The Prison of the Angels. Unafraid to tackle the more complex issues surrounding good and evil in mainstream religion, Janine has created a thought-provoking and immersive trilogy which sets a new standard for paranormal erotic romance. The first in the series, Cover Him With Darkness, was released in 2014 by Cleis Press and received outstanding reviews. It was followed in March 2017 by In Bonds of the Earth, and finally The Prison of the Angels on 1st December 2017, both published by Sinful Press.



Blurb:

Milja Petak’s world has fallen apart.
Her lover, the fallen angel Azazel, has cast her aside in rage and disgust. The other contender for her heart, the Catholic priest Egan Kansky, was surrendered back into the hands of the shadowy Vatican organization, Vidimus, after sustaining life-threatening injuries.
She has killed and she has betrayed. She is alone, homeless, and at the end of her tether - torn apart by guilt and the love she has lost.
But neither Heaven nor its terrifying representatives on Earth have finished with Milja.
Both her lovers need her in order to further their very different plans, and both passionately need her, though they may try to deny it.
Milja is once again forced into a series of choices as she uncovers the secrets Heaven has been guarding for centuries. But this time it is not just her heart at stake, or even the fate of a fallen angel.
This time, the choices she makes will change everything.
This time it’s the End of the World.
The Prison of the Angels is the third in the acclaimed Book of the Watchers trilogy, following on from Cover Him with Darkness, and In Bonds of the Earth.



Excerpt:

The cold water flashed like white fire over every inch of my skin. It burnt my eyeballs and my lips and the inside of my throat, and beyond the white fire was a darkness so immense that it swallowed me whole.
I fell forever.
Something grabbed my wrist. Something so hot that it boiled away the darkness, so that there was suddenly light flashing in my eyes. I felt myself grabbed up bodily and lifted. I felt heat against my lips, blowing fire into my frozen lungs. I saw the wooden posts of a flight of steps, and then I pitched forward onto hands and knees in the shallow snow, choking up pond-water. In front of my blurred vision an inchoate swirl of darkness poured up the steps onto the lit porch and then disappeared. Unseen, something slammed against the door, a knock that made the house shake.
I was on the ground beneath the back porch of John’s house, I realized, shuddering.
Mama. Oh Mama. The thought seemed to come from nowhere.
Three times the knock sounded, and on the third the door burst open—outward, onto the porch—to reveal Egan in the lit room within; shaven, shirtless, and frozen mid-lunge for what I could only assume was a weapon of some sort.
He stared.
I tried to cry out.
“Milja?”
Grabbing his pistol he ran out barefoot onto the porch and looked around for enemies that were not there. Then he clattered down and pulled me up into his arms. I pressed my face to his neck and he carried me up the steps and over the threshold—not like a bride, but like a child he could hold tight against his torso, his wrists locked under my thighs. His skin blazed against mine. He hefted me into the kitchen and propped my ass on the table in front of the range.
“What the hell?” he demanded in a low fierce voice, sweeping locks of sodden hair back from my face. My hat seemed to have disappeared. “What happened, Milja? What were you doing out there?”
“Ice. I fell in the lake.” My jaw chattered. It was obvious I was telling the truth—I was soaked from head to toe, and after clasping me so close he wasn’t much drier himself.
“Feckssake, woman!” he growled. “What the hell were you thinking of?” He shucked off my coat, which lifted a sodden ton from my shoulders, then stooped to pull my boots off; ice-water spilt all over the floor.
I tried to strip off my gloves but my fingers weren’t capable of gripping anything.
“Come here, come here,” he said softly from where he knelt at my feet, grabbing my wrists and peeling away the useless gloves. He pressed my hands on either side of his warm neck, holding them there. They must have felt like ice-blocks to him, but he didn’t wince.
He looked like a knight kneeling before his queen, I thought. I could feel his pulse.
“I’ll go get towels, Milja. Are you going to be okay a sec?”
I nodded, though he probably couldn’t see it through the shuddering. He rose and hurried off, leaving me with the radiant warmth of the stove. I thought I should probably get the rest of my clothes off, but even after I struggled with my fly zipper my jeans seemed determined to cling to my bum-cheeks.
I heard the back door bang shut and I flinched.
Azazel?
Had he been gathering himself to come get Egan? Was he the one who had saved me from the black waters? Where was he now?
Egan came back in carrying armfuls of towels. “Alright?”
“I’m okay,” I told him, smiling through my shudders. He was still shirtless, and I could see the faint Ethiopian scars on his arm and chest.
He wrapped my hands one at a time in a towel, chaffed them dry, and then set them deliberately against the hard, hot wall of his torso.
Oh God.
Then he slipped all the buttons on my thick flannel shirt—the one I’d chosen this morning precisely because it wasn’t provocative or distracting—and he only slowed when he realized I was wearing just a bra-top underneath. My nipples stood in shamefully hard points under the stretch cotton. I tried to wriggle out of the long tartan sleeves of my shirt on my own, to spare his blushes, but everything clung like a freezing cold second skin and he had to help.
The shallow slash on my forearm wasn’t bleeding anymore, but each brush of his fingers felt like hot coals.
My wet garment made a slap as it struck the floor.
He draped a towel around my shoulders and another over my head. He started rubbing the water from my face and hair and scalp, his movements precise and gentle. For long moments I was buried in a soft darkness. I reached out, blind, to put my hands back on his bare ribs. I could feel his heart pounding beneath them, like a beast pacing a cage.
I have no idea when it all changed for him. When his grueling self-denial simply fell apart, like a garment worn and washed until the fabric was weakened beyond all use. All I knew was that he dropped the towel off my damp head, cupped my face in both his hands and—absolutely without warning—kissed me.

The Prison of the Angels is available to buy from all major online retailers including:

Author bio:

Janine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure. She likes to write about magic and myth and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.
Buyer beware! If you like dark romance and a hard-won Happily Ever After, try "Cover Him with Darkness," "Heart of Flame," or "The King's Viper." If you prefer challenging erotica, go for "Red Grow the Roses" or "Named and Shamed" instead. All her other books lie somewhere on the spectrum between.
Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000. She's also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora's Cave among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology 'Geek Love'.
Born in Wales, Janine now lives in the North of England with her husband and two rescued greyhounds. She has worked as a cleaner, library assistant, computer programmer, local government tree officer, and - for five years of muddy feet and shouting - as a full-time costumed Viking. Janine loves goatee beards, ancient ruins, minotaurs, trees, mummies, having her cake and eating it, and holidaying in countries with really bad public sewerage.
Her work has been described as:
"Hardcore and literate" (Madeline Moore) and "Vivid and tempestuous and dangerous, and bursting with sacrifice, death and love." (Portia Da Costa)

Author Links:
Janine Ashbless website: http://www.janineashbless.com/
Janine Ashbless on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janineashbless
Sinful Press website: https://www.sinfulpress.co.uk


Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.



Sunday, December 3, 2017

Darian’s breath caught. The touch closed his eyes as lust rampaged over him. Weekend #teaser #MMromance #erotica



Weekend teaser from new release MM romantic erotica The Dreamboat

The man pulled his hood down.

“Indigo Vaughn.” Darian breathed the name.

“I am. What are you doing here, lurking at the rear of the castle?”

Darian’s stomach lurched with attraction and fear. He gazed at Indigo. He delighted in the lush dark hair, just long enough to give the warlock a dashing air, the piercing ice-blue eyes glinting sapphire in the last shimmer of light from the fireworks, the hot muscled body beneath the warrior’s leather jerkin, and Darian’s cock shot into an erection. He took a chance. “I knew you’d be patrolling here and I’m desperate to see you, talk with you, as, as just men, who, who like each other.” His brave words faltered and his voice dropped to a whisper.

A long moment of silence followed.

He thought Indigo was about to strike him, but the handsome warlock raised his hand, took hold of Darian’s hood, and pushed it from his face.

“Darian O’Harr.” Surprise rang in Indigo’s voice.

“I mean what I say. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Indigo ran his fingertips down Darian’s cheek and rubbed the pad of his thumb across his lips.

Darian’s breath caught. The touch closed his eyes as lust rampaged over him. 
Indigo moved his hand to Darian’s head, running his fingers among Darian’s hair. Slowly he brought his head to Darian’s.

The air between their faces sparked with desire and Darian moved to meet Indigo’s lips. The kiss nearly brought Darian to his knees. The first brush of Indigo’s mouth on his teased and promised. The merge of Indigo’s lips was soft, until Indigo grasped a fistful of Darian’s hair and deepened the kiss. Darian moaned low as he returned the delicious kiss.

Copyright E.D.Parr, 2017 Evernight Publishing

On launch special discount price at Evernight Publishing 
http://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-dreamboat-by-e-d-parr/
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077TB36FS
Global Amazon link http://a-fwd.com/asin-com=B077TB36FS
http://www.bookstrand.com/the-dreamboat-mm
5 star review for The Dreamboat
 I absolutely devoured this awesome, magnificent, magical, sexy, and captivating tale.

Saturday, December 2, 2017

They didn’t call her Wonder Tongue for nothing. New release #MC #erotica from @ravennatate and @evernightpub

PHENEX'S RETRIBUTION Demons On Wheels MC 4 
***Click HERE to purchase directly from Evernight Publishing***

 They don’t call her Wonder Tongue for nothing, but Meghan Sanders longs to be more than a sweetbutt, cook, and bartender at Scotty’s Place – the posh strip club the Demons on Wheels MC owns. She wants Phenex. She’s held that secret in her heart, never daring to wonder if he felt the same way. Because if he knew her past, why would he want her? Phenex, the Demons on Wheels MC Road Captain, finds it difficult to get close to anyone. A tragic event in his childhood keeps him emotionally closed and distant. When he accidentally uncovers something hidden in Meghan’s past, a stronger bond than great sex begins to form. He’s had a thing for this extraordinary woman for two years, but she doesn’t know that. Can these two heal old wounds that hold their hearts captive, and find love with one another? Or is it too late? 


 Read an EXCERPT 18+
They didn’t call her Wonder Tongue for nothing. But before he enjoyed one of her fantastic blowjobs, Phenex wanted to make her come. Hard. That asshole tonight hitting her had pissed him off something fierce. Not only was she the kindest sweetbutt here, but she was one hell of a cook and bartender.

At twenty-seven years old, she was more mature than most of the people who lived here, even those older than she was. Phenex liked that about her. He could hold an intelligent conversation with her, and she wasn’t catty or gossipy like most of the other women.

She reached for his jeans again after he released her mouth, but he stopped her once more, this time grabbing both wrists. “Later. You first.”

“Oh my. What’s the occasion?” She laughed, and he did, too.

It was an old joke between them, dating back to the first time she’d given him a blowjob. He’d been so out of his fucking mind with lust, he’d lain there after she finished, watching her play with herself, for a good ten minutes before his fucking brain woke up and he finished the job for her with his mouth. Ever since then, they joked about him not only going first, but almost letting her do herself that night.

Not this time. He brushed his hands over her breasts. She wore a tank top and shorts, which was what most of them wore when they weren’t working or dancing. And no bra, despite her nice, big tits. He certainly didn’t mind that. He also didn’t mind her lush, curvy body.

Phenex liked real women, and Meghan was as lush as they came, in his opinion. She didn’t talk about her weight like some of them did, and that fact made her sexier. She was confident, and didn’t give a shit that she wasn’t rail thin. She was the most gorgeous, perfect woman he’d ever seen.

He ran his hands through her curly, red hair. “I love this color. Have I told you that?”

She laughed again. “Yes. Many times.” She planted tiny kisses up and down his neck, sending shivers down his spine. This woman went beyond making him hard. She touched his soul. They had a connection as friends that Phenex had never felt with any of the other sweetbutts or dancers. And when she turned those green eyes in his direction, Phenex’s heart thumped like a teen who has just had his first glimpse of a real woman.

Phenex pulled off her tank top so he could bite her nipples. He loved her tits, and she loved having them squeezed, licked, sucked, and bitten. She moaned loudly and dug her nails into his hair, which sent fresh desire racing through him. He circled each taut peak with his tongue before going in for another quick nibble.

The mounds of flesh in his hands had given his cock hours of delight in the past, but he wanted to fuck that incredible mouth tonight. He kissed her again, working his tongue over hers. That tongue had driven them all insane with fucking lust. She wrapped her arms around him and pushed her lush body against his, breaking down his resolve to take his time.

How the fuck could he help it? She was the sexiest woman he’d ever fucked, and he’d certainly had his fair share. Phenex released her mouth so his brain cells would synapse again, and pulled off her shorts. She waxed her pussy, which drove him fucking over the edge with the need to posses it. It was so goddamn sexy, and the tiny ladybug tattoo on the inside of her upper left thigh added to the allure.

He pushed her onto her back and swiveled her hips toward the edge of the bed. After kneeling between her legs, he licked the juices off her labia. “You always taste so fucking good.”

“That feels wonderful.” She grasped fistfuls of his hair again, pulling his face closer, but Phenex didn’t mind. He loved eating pussy almost as much as he loved having his cock sucked.

When he slid two fingers into her wet hole, she arched her hips and cried out. “How close are you, Wonder Tongue?”

“Pretty damn close, but don’t let that stop you from giving it your full attention.”

He laughed. “Oh, I won’t.” Phenex’s dick was so fucking hard now it was painful, but that only added to the fun. He moved his fingers in and out of her pussy, coaxing the orgasm from her.


After watching the skin on her labia turn dark for a few seconds, he spread her folds with the other hand and lapped at her swollen clit, increasing the pressure and speed of his tongue, until her moans were continuous and loud. When tiny contractions inside her pussy fluttered against his fingers, he sucked her clit, hard.
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