Lily Harlem's Blog, page 259
January 28, 2013
Passionate Immunity by Elizabeth Lapthorne
Book three in The Agency Series
Kimber dreams of adventure—finding it when she’s asked to consult on a strange new case with Tristan—a member of The Agency.
Kimberly Melmoth has always dreamed of having a grand adventure, her life filled with excitement, danger and passion. When an old friend invites her to assist in an investigation looking into a project headed by a corrupt agent, she leaps at the opportunity. Sorting through mountains of paperwork doesn’t mesh with her idea of being a spy,but the electric attraction she feels to her new partner, Tristan Walters certainly does.
The depth of the instant lust searing through his body takes Tristan completely by surprise. How can one petite woman with a head full of blonde curls overtake him so completely? Her grin can light up a room and her enthusiasm is infectious. His need to protect her at all costs is overwhelming, if only she’d listen to his words of caution!
As the case heats up, both between them and in the laboratory, what should have been a simple data review turns into something far deadlier. Tristan and Kimberly both realise that neither are immune when it comes to each other and the passion that burns between them.
Buy Link
Find out more about Elizabeth Lapthorne and all of her books on her website.
January 27, 2013
Sunday Snog - Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse
Welcome to Sunday Snog - here's a sexy smooch from the beginning of Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, published by Mischief at Harper Collins and still hot off the press.
I didn’t mention the dove to Annie or Tinkard. I just called for a porter to help me transfer to Rose Cottage and tugged on my coat. I checked my iPhone again. Another message from Tom.
You coming?
I typed back quickly.
Yes, so will you soon!
The porter appeared. He was new, a young guy, wide and stocky with hair so short you could see his scalp through it. He had the word love tattooed over the knuckles on his right hand
‘You got one for Rose Cottage,’ he grunted, tugging the closed, coffin-style trolley along behind him.
‘Yes, sideward six.’
Luckily Mr Parslow’s skinny body was light, and within a few minutes we were heading out of the ward with him safely ensconced in the metal trolley.
‘Hey, Sharon,’ Tinkard called. ‘You may as well go for your break after you’ve done that, it’s just gone midnight.’
‘Right you are.’
The ward door shut with a heavy click and I put some muscle into pushing the trolley along the deserted corridor. As the pace picked up I stared at the lumpy back of the porter’s head and wondered if he was the one who’d found Javier and Iceberg.
If only I could see into his mind.
I pondered on whether I should question him. Just come straight out and ask if he’d seen the hottest medical SHO since Pompeii’s hospital had got showered in ash, shagging the Wicked Witch of the West where the sun doesn’t shine.
I thought better of it. Me alone asking could become gossip, and I was keen to avoid gossip that included myself. There were too many skeletons in my cupboard, and, for that matter, in clinical rooms, sluices, linen rooms, and in that handy, unused office at the back of the pharmacy. No, I would keep quiet and do my own investigating.
Stepping out into the night, I was whipped in the face by my hair, the band holding it in a low ponytail no match for the ferocity of the gale. I hunched my shoulders and stooped, trying to shelter my face from the needle-points of rain blasting my cheeks. The sound of the torrent of drips hitting the metal trolley was almost as loud as the wind creaking the row of oaks leading to Rose Cottage. Their bows strained and moaned, their leaves hissing in great waves of noise.
The porter sped up behind the back of the canteen and put considerable energy into pulling. By the time we went past the incinerator and turned the final corner, I found myself jogging along the uneven path.
Luckily Tom was waiting with the door to Rose Cottage held open.
We rushed in, the trolley banging over the door-bar and a scurry of leaves whirling around our feet.
‘Fucking hell,’ the porter said. ‘It’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey out there.’
Tom shut the door, winked at me, then took hold of my end of the trolley and wheeled it into the bay of body drawers. I trailed along behind, tucking my wind-wild hair back into it’s ponytail.
‘Yeah, good job the VIP in here doesn’t care about shitty weather,’ Tom said, stopping at twenty-six C and then opening the trolley’s lid to reveal Mr Parslow’s covered body.
‘Bloody hate this part of the job, me,’ the porter said, staring at the shroud-covered lump and shuddering. ‘Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.’
‘You go if you want,’ I said, ‘I’ll help here.’
He widened his eyes and took a step backwards. ‘Really?’
‘Sure, I’ve done it a million times. Doesn’t bother me.’
‘Bloody hell, thanks…’ He nibbled on his bottom lip and scanned my coat, as though searching for my name badge.
‘Sharon,’ I said. ‘Go, we’ve got this covered and I bet you’ve lots to do.’
‘Yeah, I have actually.’ He yanked his sleeves over his hands and strode back to the door.
Tom followed and I heard him lock it shut, as was standard procedure at Rose Cottage. The NHS couldn’t risk body-snatching, that’s why Tom was employed as night security here.
‘Poor sod,’ Tom said, wandering back in. ‘Looked white as a sheet, didn’t he?’
‘They all do to start with.’
Tom pulled open the drawer and together we slid Mr Parslow onto the metal; his body, although light, was a dense weight. Tom then pushed the drawer shut and closed the door with a resounding slam.
He wrote Mr Parslow’s name on a piece of card and slipped it into a slot beneath.
‘So how long have you got?’ he asked, a naughty smile tugging his lips and his smoky blue eyes twinkling.
I raised my eyebrows. ‘No time at all. Change of plan, I have to get straight back, sorry.’
‘Ah, Sharon,’ he said, frowning. ‘Why do you go and tease me like that? You know how much I look forward to your visits. They’re the only thing that keeps me going in this lifeless place.’
‘Sorry.’ I glanced down his body. Through his uniform — dark navy trousers and shirt — Tom’s well-defined muscles could be made out, as could a fantastically long wedge of flesh behind his fly.
My pussy clenched as I remembered last week when I’d paid him a visit. He’d bent me over the desk and rammed himself into me for nearly an hour. It had been so damn hard to walk back onto the orthopeadic ward I’d actually considered nicking a pair of crutches.
I hitched in a breath, knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep up my pretense for more than another few seconds. Tom’s big dick and his skillful use of it was too damn irresistible. ‘The ward is crazy busy.’
He reached for me but I stepped away. ‘Just a kiss and a quick grope then, to keep me going.’
Quickly I moved even further away, towards the autopsy room. ‘Ha, ha,’ I said gleefully. ‘Just kidding, I’m on my break now.’
He flattened his lips into a tight line, as if holding back a broad smile, though at the same time narrowing his eyes as though furious with me. ‘You little minx,’ he said. ‘You’ll pay for that.’
‘Only if you can catch me.’ I darted into the autopsy room, dark except for a couple of low lights over a set of huge scales. The air was cool and laced with disinfectant.
I glanced around. There was a big, steel surgical table in the centre, a row of cupboards, several filing cabinets and a desk holding an ancient computer monitor.
‘Sharon,’ Tom called, the door shutting behind him with a soft whoosh. ‘You can’t escape.’
‘No, please, no,’ I said on a giggle and ran towards the far side of the room.
He chased but I dodged at the last minute, went to run for the door. He cut me off and I swivelled, found myself barging into the bolted-down table in the middle.
I gasped as the air flew from my lungs, but recovered quickly and, with my hands flat on the cool surface, scooted to the end.
Tom was facing me now, his face strewn with shadows, but I could see the thrill of the chase had flushed his cheeks and caused him to pant.
‘Come here,’ he said, edging closer.
‘No.’ I moved away from him in a circle around the table.
But it was futile, he was tall, fast and strong. Suddenly I was grabbed and tugged to the end, my body pulled up against his.
He pressed his lips down hard on mine and instantly the game was over. Now it was all about carnal satisfaction. With Tom I was always guaranteed a spectacular orgasm and I couldn’t wait to start riding towards it.
‘Ah, yeah, baby, I’ve got you,’ he said, shoving my coat off and flicking it out of the way. ‘You gonna take it good again? Like you did last week?’
‘Yes,’ I panted, tearing at the buttons on his shirt. ‘Yes, that was so hot, I could hardly bloody walk the next day.’
He chuckled, low, deep and sexy, then kissed me again, the stubble on his chin scraping my skin and his breaths blowing hot and hard on my cheek.
He had my uniform up around my waist now and was forcing me to lay back on the ice-cold table. He stepped between my legs and leaned over me, pressing his groin into the gusset of my knickers.
‘Really, on here?’ I said, slotting my fingers into his hair and drawing my knees up so they pressed either side of his hips. ‘Where they chop up dead people? Isn’t that a bit freaky?’
‘The French for orgasm is petite mort so it’s kind of fitting.’ He was fiddling with the elastic of my underwear, at the juncture of my thighs.
‘Yeah, I suppose, but, oh…’ My words were cut off and turned into a delighted moan. He’d plunged two fingers high up inside me and found my clit with his thumb.
‘Oh, you’re such a dirty nurse,’ he murmured, kissing and licking over my cheek. ‘I bet you’ve been getting wetter and wetter ever since that poor old sod croaked, haven’t you?’
‘I…’ Words wouldn’t come. My brain could only concentrate on his touch.
He pulled out a little, shoved back in and set up a steady rhythm. Small squelching noises echoed around the room, mixing with my panting breaths and the sound of my pulse raging in my ears.
‘I love it when you get so wet for me,’ he said, gripping the back of my neck with his free hand and nibbling the side of my neck. ‘I’m going to really miss your cream, Sharon.’
‘Ah, yes, Tom, please, I want you in me.’
His hand was good, but a hand was a hand. Tom’s equipment was sensational, the sort of specimen that should be pickled in a jar when he died and saved in a museum as a perfect example of the human penis.
‘Coming right up, baby,’ he said, withdrawing and fumbling with his flies.
I shoved at my knickers, gasped briefly at the chill on my buttocks, then kicked the material away. I tried not to think of the bodies that had lain lifeless where I was about to be screwed senseless. Perhaps it would re-balance the karma for this table — if furniture held karma, that was.
Tom was rolling a condom on with astonishing efficiency. ‘You’re the only one that ever takes all of me,’ he said, looking me in the eye. ‘And it feels amazing.’
‘Tell me about it.’ I reached for him and kissed him hungrily as he pressed me back onto the hardness of the metal. He tasted of coffee, chocolate and perhaps a hint of tobacco. He tasted of Tom, which to me meant sex and pleasure and orgasms of the super-intense variety.
He was nudging into me. I locked my ankles in the small of his back and gripped the sleeves of his shirt. This part always required a good amount of concentration on my behalf if it was to be erotic pain and not ow-that-hurts pain.
‘Yeah, that’s it,’ he said into my mouth and gaining the first inch of entry.
I held my breath, waiting for more, desperate for more, all of it, all of him.
‘Damn, you feel so hot,’ he said, pressing his chin against my temple.
His stubble would leave a telltale red rash, but I didn’t care, to hell with any consequences. Right now I just wanted more of him inside me.
I rocked my hips up to meet him and he pushed in — much faster than usual.
‘Oh, yes,’ I cried out as red flashes filled my vision. ‘So good.’
‘Only good?’ He stilled.
‘Fantastic, and you know it.’ I half-heartedly thumped his arm. ‘Just give it to me.’
He hesitated for a second, then shunted in completely.
I cried out, so did he.
The brutal entry and the swirling pleasure-pain had my entire body tensing.
‘Ah, yeah,’ he groaned, lifting his head and staring at the wall behind me. ‘Fuck yeah.’
I felt like I would burst. That at any moment the tip of his cock would come right out of my throat. How was it possible for my little body to take such a monster? I didn’t know, but it did, and it felt bloody incredible.
Tom began to move. Keeping himself lodged high, he churned his hips in a circular movement, catching my clit just right.
Groaning, I arched my back, lifted off the table and clung to him. Already the first blissful sparks of orgasm were there. It wouldn’t take long.
‘Ah, yeah, this isn’t going to be a marathon session like last week,’ he said. ‘You’ve got me too damn hot for you. I’m near already.’
‘Me too.’ I smoothed my hands over his shoulders. ‘Me too.’
He pulled halfway out, sliding easily, then rode back in. We both grunted and I harnessed the growing pressure.
‘Yeah,’ he said, repeating the process. ‘Oh, yeah.’
‘Faster, harder,’ I said, catching his fleshy earlobe in my mouth and sucking.
‘Your wish is my command.’
Suddenly our mating cranked up a notch. If it had been desperate before, now it was frantic, wild and utterly animalistic. Breathing no longer mattered, nor did the rest of the universe. Tom inside me and the explosion about to detonate was all that existed.
‘Ah, I’m coming,’ I shouted, biting down on his earlobe.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he groaned, shifting his head but not escaping my teeth.
He was rod-hard, as hard as he ever got. And I was being impaled; he was ramming me down as much as he was forging into me.
It was there. I was spinning through ecstasy, my body not my own for a few sweeter-than-sweet seconds, but belonging to a glorious state of heavenly pleasure.
And then came the best bit, my pussy contracting and spasming around Tom’s cock. My internal muscles rejoicing at the incredible length and girth they had to grip and shudder against.
Tom was coming too, at the perfect moment. He was groaning and moaning like a dying man. I released his ear, found his mouth and kissed him. He kissed back, hungrily.
‘Oh, yeah, that was so good,’ he said, breathless and finally slowing his thrusting hips.
‘Tell me about it.’ I was trembling, my flesh prickly and sweat-coated.
‘You’re incredible,’ he said.
‘Kind of you to say so.’ I brushed his hair back from his face where it was hanging like dark fingers around his forehead. ‘How are the wedding plans going?’
‘Not bad, Cheryl is stressed but her mum’s helping her.’
‘It must be a nightmare planning such a big event for so many people.’
‘Yeah, well, it’s what she wants.’
He touched his nose to mine, rubbed it in an Eskimo kiss. ‘Are you sure we can’t still do this once I’ve tied the knot?’
‘We’ve had this conversation before.’ I stroked his earlobe — it was wet and slightly swollen from my exuberant kisses and bites.
‘I know, but bloody hell, Sharon, we’re so damn good together.’ As if to prove the point he ground into me, extracting another delicious tremor. I couldn’t hold in a satisfied groan.
‘I have some morals, you know,’ I said when I’d recovered, ‘and screwing married men is definitely on my list of no-no’s.’
‘But how is this different? I’m engaged to be married right now.’
‘You haven’t promised to forsake all others yet, though, have you?’
‘No, I suppose not.’ He kissed me gently. ‘I will miss this, though. You. Us.’
‘Me too. But Cheryl makes you happy and will do for the rest of your life.’
‘Yep, she’s great.’ He pulled out and straightened.
I became aware of the cold, unyielding surface I was lying on and the dampness between my legs.
‘I’ve got cheese sandwiches and a porkpie in my tuckbox if you want to share,’ he said, tugging off the condom and slipping his still semi-erect cock away.
‘Sounds great.’ I jumped off the slab of metal, pulled on my knickers and straightened my uniform.
I would miss my time with Tom and his talented dick, but that was just the way it was. Cheryl would have to learn to cope with him and I’d have to find myself another well-hung pastime.
Perhaps an Italian one was in order.
Buy Links
Amazon US $1.60 Amazon UK £0.99Mischief - more retailers can be found here
January 26, 2013
Six Sentence Sunday - Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse
Blurb
When scalpels are set down, the ward lights turned off and the patients asleep, there is always time for mischief …
I guess you could call me a jack-of-all-trades nurse. I find work satisfaction in whichever department the hospital needs me most, as long as it’s through the darkest hours. Needless to say I’ve seen it all over the years, been there and done that, what’s left to shock me isn’t worth knowing. But it’s so often the quieter nighttime where the real high jinx abound.
Yes, the nocturnal life is the one for me. With a weakness for sexy guys wearing white coats and dangling stethoscopes, my fantasies are often realised and I’m adept at finding relief from the hospital grind in shadowy corners and cozy linen cupboards.
Of course my dedication to patient comfort is paramount. What kind of nurse would I be if it wasn’t? But when one act of extreme, albeit highly inappropriate, kindness forced me to become the hospital director’s snitch, the length I went to in order to keep my job, satisfied my desires and found me the love that had always evaded me. A love that made me push even my not-so-professional boundaries to the extreme.
SUNDAY SIX
(Taken from midway through the book when nurse Sharon is helping a hunky fireman with burnt, bandaged hands have a bed bath...)
I’d washed and dried thousands of cocks, big and small, long and short. It was just part of my job. Nothing to get worked up about. Nothing to be embarrassed about.
He blew out a slow breath, the air breezing over my arm.
I glanced up at him again, and then noticed, with shock, that there was a stiffening in his penis.
Buy Links
Amazon US - $1.60
Amazon UK - £0.99
Kobo
Barnes and Noble
Mischief - find more links to retailers here.
I'm a guest at...
Today I'm thrilled to have been inited over to the lovely Sommer Marsden's blog, which is very apt as I'm currently immersed in her book Boys Next Door and loving every sexy page of it.
And also it is my turn to be featured author over at Sexy Reads chatting about Past, Present and Future.
I hope you can join me :-)
Lily x
And also it is my turn to be featured author over at Sexy Reads chatting about Past, Present and Future.
I hope you can join me :-)
Lily x
January 24, 2013
Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse Out Today!
Now available from Mischief at Harper Collins.
I'm thrilled that Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse has hit the shelves today. Before turning my hand at writing I worked for many years as a nurse in a busy NHS hospital in England so this book has been enormous fun to write and took me on a memory-laden journey through my past. I hope readers enjoy the sassyness of Staff Nurse Sharon Roane, the various hunks that she encounters in dark corners as well as spending time in a wintery Yorkshire hospital.
Blurb
When scalpels are set down, the ward lights turned off and the patients asleep, there is always time for mischief …
I guess you could call me a jack-of-all-trades nurse. I find work satisfaction in whichever department the hospital needs me most, as long as it’s through the darkest hours. Needless to say I’ve seen it all over the years, been there and done that, what’s left to shock me isn’t worth knowing. But it’s so often the quieter nighttime where the real high jinx abound.
Yes, the nocturnal life is the one for me. With a weakness for sexy guys wearing white coats and dangling stethoscopes, my fantasies are often realised and I’m adept at finding relief from the hospital grind in shadowy corners and cozy linen cupboards.
Of course my dedication to patient comfort is paramount. What kind of nurse would I be if it wasn’t? But when one act of extreme, albeit highly inappropriate, kindness forced me to become the hospital director’s snitch, the length I went to in order to keep my job, satisfied my desires and found me the love that had always evaded me. A love that made me push even my not-so-professional boundaries to the extreme.
Here is a sexy snippet from Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse taken from chapter one...
I didn’t mention the dove to Annie or Tinkard. I just called for a porter to help me transfer to Rose Cottage and tugged on my coat. I checked my iPhone again. Another message from Tom.You coming?I typed back quickly.Yes, so will you soon!The porter appeared. He was new, a young guy, wide and stocky with hair so short you could see his scalp through it. He had the word love tattooed over the knuckles on his right hand‘You got one for Rose Cottage,’ he grunted, tugging the closed, coffin-style trolley along behind him.‘Yes, sideward six.’Luckily Mr Parslow’s skinny body was light, and within a few minutes we were heading out of the ward with him safely ensconced in the metal trolley.‘Hey, Sharon,’ Tinkard called. ‘You may as well go for your break after you’ve done that, it’s just gone midnight.’‘Right you are.’The ward door shut with a heavy click and I put some muscle into pushing the trolley along the deserted corridor. As the pace picked up I stared at the lumpy back of the porter’s head and wondered if he was the one who’d found Javier and Iceberg.If only I could see into his mind.I pondered on whether I should question him. Just come straight out and ask if he’d seen the hottest medical SHO since Pompeii’s hospital had got showered in ash, shagging the Wicked Witch of the West where the sun doesn’t shine.I thought better of it. Me alone asking could become gossip, and I was keen to avoid gossip that included myself. There were too many skeletons in my cupboard, and, for that matter, in clinical rooms, sluices, linen rooms, and in that handy, unused office at the back of the pharmacy. No, I would keep quiet and do my own investigating.Stepping out into the night, I was whipped in the face by my hair, the band holding it in a low ponytail no match for the ferocity of the gale. I hunched my shoulders and stooped, trying to shelter my face from the needle-points of rain blasting my cheeks. The sound of the torrent of drips hitting the metal trolley was almost as loud as the wind creaking the row of oaks leading to Rose Cottage. Their bows strained and moaned, their leaves hissing in great waves of noise.The porter sped up behind the back of the canteen and put considerable energy into pulling. By the time we went past the incinerator and turned the final corner, I found myself jogging along the uneven path.Luckily Tom was waiting with the door to Rose Cottage held open.We rushed in, the trolley banging over the door-bar and a scurry of leaves whirling around our feet.‘Fucking hell,’ the porter said. ‘It’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey out there.’Tom shut the door, winked at me, then took hold of my end of the trolley and wheeled it into the bay of body drawers. I trailed along behind, tucking my wind-wild hair back into it’s ponytail.‘Yeah, good job the VIP in here doesn’t care about shitty weather,’ Tom said, stopping at twenty-six C and then opening the trolley’s lid to reveal Mr Parslow’s covered body.‘Bloody hate this part of the job, me,’ the porter said, staring at the shroud-covered lump and shuddering. ‘Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.’‘You go if you want,’ I said, ‘I’ll help here.’He widened his eyes and took a step backwards. ‘Really?’‘Sure, I’ve done it a million times. Doesn’t bother me.’‘Bloody hell, thanks…’ He nibbled on his bottom lip and scanned my coat, as though searching for my name badge.‘Sharon,’ I said. ‘Go, we’ve got this covered and I bet you’ve lots to do.’‘Yeah, I have actually.’ He yanked his sleeves over his hands and strode back to the door.Tom followed and I heard him lock it shut, as was standard procedure at Rose Cottage. The NHS couldn’t risk body-snatching, that’s why Tom was employed as night security here.‘Poor sod,’ Tom said, wandering back in. ‘Looked white as a sheet, didn’t he?’‘They all do to start with.’Tom pulled open the drawer and together we slid Mr Parslow onto the metal; his body, although light, was a dense weight. Tom then pushed the drawer shut and closed the door with a resounding slam.He wrote Mr Parslow’s name on a piece of card and slipped it into a slot beneath.‘So how long have you got?’ he asked, a naughty smile tugging his lips and his smoky blue eyes twinkling.I raised my eyebrows. ‘No time at all. Change of plan, I have to get straight back, sorry.’‘Ah, Sharon,’ he said, frowning. ‘Why do you go and tease me like that? You know how much I look forward to your visits. They’re the only thing that keeps me going in this lifeless place.’‘Sorry.’ I glanced down his body. Through his uniform — dark navy trousers and shirt — Tom’s well-defined muscles could be made out, as could a fantastically long wedge of flesh behind his fly.My pussy clenched as I remembered last week when I’d paid him a visit. He’d bent me over the desk and rammed himself into me for nearly an hour. It had been so damn hard to walk back onto the orthopeadic ward I’d actually considered nicking a pair of crutches.I hitched in a breath, knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep up my pretense for more than another few seconds. Tom’s big dick and his skillful use of it was too damn irresistible. ‘The ward is crazy busy.’He reached for me but I stepped away. ‘Just a kiss and a quick grope then, to keep me going.’Quickly I moved even further away, towards the autopsy room. ‘Ha, ha,’ I said gleefully. ‘Just kidding, I’m on my break now.’He flattened his lips into a tight line, as if holding back a broad smile, though at the same time narrowing his eyes as though furious with me. ‘You little minx,’ he said. ‘You’ll pay for that.’‘Only if you can catch me.’ I darted into the autopsy room, dark except for a couple of low lights over a set of huge scales. The air was cool and laced with disinfectant.I glanced around. There was a big, steel surgical table in the centre, a row of cupboards, several filing cabinets and a desk holding an ancient computer monitor.‘Sharon,’ Tom called, the door shutting behind him with a soft whoosh. ‘You can’t escape.’‘No, please, no,’ I said on a giggle and ran towards the far side of the room.He chased but I dodged at the last minute, went to run for the door. He cut me off and I swivelled, found myself barging into the bolted-down table in the middle.I gasped as the air flew from my lungs, but recovered quickly and, with my hands flat on the cool surface, scooted to the end.Tom was facing me now, his face strewn with shadows, but I could see the thrill of the chase had flushed his cheeks and caused him to pant.‘Come here,’ he said, edging closer.‘No.’ I moved away from him in a circle around the table.But it was futile, he was tall, fast and strong. Suddenly I was grabbed and tugged to the end, my body pulled up against his.He pressed his lips down hard on mine and instantly the game was over. Now it was all about carnal satisfaction. With Tom I was always guaranteed a spectacular orgasm and I couldn’t wait to start riding towards it.‘Ah, yeah, baby, I’ve got you,’ he said, shoving my coat off and flicking it out of the way. ‘You gonna take it good again? Like you did last week?’‘Yes,’ I panted, tearing at the buttons on his shirt. ‘Yes, that was so hot, I could hardly bloody walk the next day.’He chuckled, low, deep and sexy, then kissed me again, the stubble on his chin scraping my skin and his breaths blowing hot and hard on my cheek.He had my uniform up around my waist now and was forcing me to lay back on the ice-cold table. He stepped between my legs and leaned over me, pressing his groin into the gusset of my knickers.‘Really, on here?’ I said, slotting my fingers into his hair and drawing my knees up so they pressed either side of his hips. ‘Where they chop up dead people? Isn’t that a bit freaky?’‘The French for orgasm is petite mort so it’s kind of fitting.’ He was fiddling with the elastic of my underwear, at the juncture of my thighs.‘Yeah, I suppose, but, oh…’ My words were cut off and turned into a delighted moan. He’d plunged two fingers high up inside me and found my clit with his thumb.‘Oh, you’re such a dirty nurse,’ he murmured, kissing and licking over my cheek. ‘I bet you’ve been getting wetter and wetter ever since that poor old sod croaked, haven’t you?’‘I…’ Words wouldn’t come. My brain could only concentrate on his touch.He pulled out a little, shoved back in and set up a steady rhythm. Small squelching noises echoed around the room, mixing with my panting breaths and the sound of my pulse raging in my ears.‘I love it when you get so wet for me,’ he said, gripping the back of my neck with his free hand and nibbling the side of my throat. ‘I’m going to really miss your cream, Sharon.’‘Ah, yes, Tom, please, I want you in me.’ His hand was good, but a hand was a hand. Tom’s equipment was sensational, the sort of specimen that should be pickled in a jar when he died and saved in a museum as a perfect example of the human penis.‘Coming right up, baby,’ he said, withdrawing and fumbling with his flies.I shoved at my knickers, gasped briefly at the chill on my buttocks, then kicked the material away. I tried not to think of the bodies that had lain lifeless where I was about to be screwed senseless. Perhaps it would re-balance the karma for this table — if furniture held karma, that was.Tom was rolling a condom on with astonishing efficiency. ‘You’re the only one that ever takes all of me,’ he said, looking me in the eye. ‘And it feels amazing.’‘Tell me about it.’ I reached for him and kissed him hungrily as he pressed me back onto the hardness of the metal. He tasted of coffee, chocolate and perhaps a hint of tobacco. He tasted of Tom, which to me meant sex and pleasure and orgasms of the super-intense variety.He was nudging into me. I locked my ankles in the small of his back and gripped the sleeves of his shirt. This part always required a good amount of concentration on my behalf if it was to be erotic pain and not ow-that-hurts pain.‘Yeah, that’s it,’ he said into my mouth and gaining the first inch of entry.I held my breath, waiting for more, desperate for more, all of it, all of him.‘Damn, you feel so hot,’ he said, pressing his chin against my temple.His stubble would leave a telltale red rash, but I didn’t care, to hell with any consequences. Right now I just wanted more of him inside me.I rocked my hips up to meet him and he pushed in — much faster than usual.‘Oh, yes,’ I cried out as red flashes filled my vision. ‘So good.’‘Only good?’ He stilled.‘Fantastic, and you know it.’ I half-heartedly thumped his arm. ‘Just give it to me.’He hesitated for a second, then shunted in completely.I cried out, so did he.The brutal entry and the swirling pleasure-pain had my entire body tensing.‘Ah, yeah,’ he groaned, lifting his head and staring at the wall behind me. ‘Fuck yeah.’I felt like I would burst. That at any moment the tip of his cock would come right out of my throat. How was it possible for my little body to take such a monster? I didn’t know, but it did, and it felt bloody incredible.Tom began to move. Keeping himself lodged high, he churned his hips in a circular movement, catching my clit just right.Groaning, I arched my back, lifted off the table and clung to him. Already the first blissful sparks of orgasm were there. It wouldn’t take long.‘Ah, yeah, this isn’t going to be a marathon session like last week,’ he said. ‘You’ve got me too damn hot for you. I’m near already.’‘Me too.’ I smoothed my hands over his shoulders. ‘Me too.’He pulled halfway out, sliding easily, then rode back in. We both grunted and I harnessed the growing pressure.‘Yeah,’ he said, repeating the process. ‘Oh, yeah.’‘Faster, harder,’ I said, catching his fleshy earlobe in my mouth and sucking.‘Your wish is my command.’Suddenly our mating cranked up a notch. If it had been desperate before, now it was frantic, wild and utterly animalistic. Breathing no longer mattered, nor did the rest of the universe. Tom inside me and the explosion about to detonate was all that existed.‘Ah, I’m coming,’ I shouted, biting down on his earlobe.‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he groaned, shifting his head but not escaping my teeth.He was rod-hard, as hard as he ever got. And I was being impaled; he was ramming me down as much as he was forging into me.It was there. I was spinning through ecstasy, my body not my own for a few sweeter-than-sweet seconds, but belonging to a glorious state of heavenly pleasure.And then came the best bit, my pussy contracting and spasming around Tom’s cock. My internal muscles rejoicing at the incredible length and girth they had to grip and shudder against.Tom was coming too, at the perfect moment. He was groaning and moaning like a dying man. I released his ear, found his mouth and kissed him. He kissed back, hungrily.‘Oh, yeah, that was so good,’ he said, breathless and finally slowing his thrusting hips.‘Tell me about it.’ I was trembling, my flesh prickly and sweat-coated.‘You’re incredible,’ he said.‘Kind of you to say so.’ I brushed his hair back from his face where it was hanging like dark fingers around his forehead. ‘How are the wedding plans going?’‘Not bad, Cheryl is stressed but her mum’s helping her.’‘It must be a nightmare planning such a big event for so many people.’‘Yeah, well, it’s what she wants.’He touched his nose to mine, rubbed it in an Eskimo kiss. ‘Are you sure we can’t still do this once I’ve tied the knot?’‘We’ve had this conversation before.’ I stroked his earlobe — it was wet and slightly swollen from my exuberant kisses and bites.‘I know, but bloody hell, Sharon, we’re so damn good together.’ As if to prove the point he ground into me, extracting another delicious tremor. I couldn’t hold in a satisfied groan.‘I have some morals, you know,’ I said when I’d recovered, ‘and screwing married men is definitely on my list of no-no’s.’‘But how is this different? I’m engaged to be married right now.’‘You haven’t promised to forsake all others yet, though, have you?’‘No, I suppose not.’ He kissed me gently. ‘I will miss this. You. Us.’‘Me too. But Cheryl makes you happy and will do for the rest of your life.’‘Yep, she’s great.’ He pulled out and straightened.I became aware of the cold, unyielding surface I was lying on and the dampness between my legs.‘I’ve got cheese sandwiches and a porkpie in my tuckbox if you want to share,’ he said, tugging off the condom and slipping his still semi-erect cock away.‘Sounds great.’ I jumped off the slab of metal, pulled on my knickers and straightened my uniform.I would miss my time with Tom and his talented dick, but that was just the way it was. Cheryl would have to learn to cope with him and I’d have to find myself another well-hung pastime.Perhaps an Italian one was in order.
Buy Links
Amazon US - $1.60
Amazon UK - £0.99
Kobo
Barnes and Noble
Mischief - find more links to retailers here.
I'm thrilled that Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse has hit the shelves today. Before turning my hand at writing I worked for many years as a nurse in a busy NHS hospital in England so this book has been enormous fun to write and took me on a memory-laden journey through my past. I hope readers enjoy the sassyness of Staff Nurse Sharon Roane, the various hunks that she encounters in dark corners as well as spending time in a wintery Yorkshire hospital.
Blurb
When scalpels are set down, the ward lights turned off and the patients asleep, there is always time for mischief …
I guess you could call me a jack-of-all-trades nurse. I find work satisfaction in whichever department the hospital needs me most, as long as it’s through the darkest hours. Needless to say I’ve seen it all over the years, been there and done that, what’s left to shock me isn’t worth knowing. But it’s so often the quieter nighttime where the real high jinx abound.
Yes, the nocturnal life is the one for me. With a weakness for sexy guys wearing white coats and dangling stethoscopes, my fantasies are often realised and I’m adept at finding relief from the hospital grind in shadowy corners and cozy linen cupboards.
Of course my dedication to patient comfort is paramount. What kind of nurse would I be if it wasn’t? But when one act of extreme, albeit highly inappropriate, kindness forced me to become the hospital director’s snitch, the length I went to in order to keep my job, satisfied my desires and found me the love that had always evaded me. A love that made me push even my not-so-professional boundaries to the extreme.
Here is a sexy snippet from Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse taken from chapter one...
I didn’t mention the dove to Annie or Tinkard. I just called for a porter to help me transfer to Rose Cottage and tugged on my coat. I checked my iPhone again. Another message from Tom.You coming?I typed back quickly.Yes, so will you soon!The porter appeared. He was new, a young guy, wide and stocky with hair so short you could see his scalp through it. He had the word love tattooed over the knuckles on his right hand‘You got one for Rose Cottage,’ he grunted, tugging the closed, coffin-style trolley along behind him.‘Yes, sideward six.’Luckily Mr Parslow’s skinny body was light, and within a few minutes we were heading out of the ward with him safely ensconced in the metal trolley.‘Hey, Sharon,’ Tinkard called. ‘You may as well go for your break after you’ve done that, it’s just gone midnight.’‘Right you are.’The ward door shut with a heavy click and I put some muscle into pushing the trolley along the deserted corridor. As the pace picked up I stared at the lumpy back of the porter’s head and wondered if he was the one who’d found Javier and Iceberg.If only I could see into his mind.I pondered on whether I should question him. Just come straight out and ask if he’d seen the hottest medical SHO since Pompeii’s hospital had got showered in ash, shagging the Wicked Witch of the West where the sun doesn’t shine.I thought better of it. Me alone asking could become gossip, and I was keen to avoid gossip that included myself. There were too many skeletons in my cupboard, and, for that matter, in clinical rooms, sluices, linen rooms, and in that handy, unused office at the back of the pharmacy. No, I would keep quiet and do my own investigating.Stepping out into the night, I was whipped in the face by my hair, the band holding it in a low ponytail no match for the ferocity of the gale. I hunched my shoulders and stooped, trying to shelter my face from the needle-points of rain blasting my cheeks. The sound of the torrent of drips hitting the metal trolley was almost as loud as the wind creaking the row of oaks leading to Rose Cottage. Their bows strained and moaned, their leaves hissing in great waves of noise.The porter sped up behind the back of the canteen and put considerable energy into pulling. By the time we went past the incinerator and turned the final corner, I found myself jogging along the uneven path.Luckily Tom was waiting with the door to Rose Cottage held open.We rushed in, the trolley banging over the door-bar and a scurry of leaves whirling around our feet.‘Fucking hell,’ the porter said. ‘It’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey out there.’Tom shut the door, winked at me, then took hold of my end of the trolley and wheeled it into the bay of body drawers. I trailed along behind, tucking my wind-wild hair back into it’s ponytail.‘Yeah, good job the VIP in here doesn’t care about shitty weather,’ Tom said, stopping at twenty-six C and then opening the trolley’s lid to reveal Mr Parslow’s covered body.‘Bloody hate this part of the job, me,’ the porter said, staring at the shroud-covered lump and shuddering. ‘Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.’‘You go if you want,’ I said, ‘I’ll help here.’He widened his eyes and took a step backwards. ‘Really?’‘Sure, I’ve done it a million times. Doesn’t bother me.’‘Bloody hell, thanks…’ He nibbled on his bottom lip and scanned my coat, as though searching for my name badge.‘Sharon,’ I said. ‘Go, we’ve got this covered and I bet you’ve lots to do.’‘Yeah, I have actually.’ He yanked his sleeves over his hands and strode back to the door.Tom followed and I heard him lock it shut, as was standard procedure at Rose Cottage. The NHS couldn’t risk body-snatching, that’s why Tom was employed as night security here.‘Poor sod,’ Tom said, wandering back in. ‘Looked white as a sheet, didn’t he?’‘They all do to start with.’Tom pulled open the drawer and together we slid Mr Parslow onto the metal; his body, although light, was a dense weight. Tom then pushed the drawer shut and closed the door with a resounding slam.He wrote Mr Parslow’s name on a piece of card and slipped it into a slot beneath.‘So how long have you got?’ he asked, a naughty smile tugging his lips and his smoky blue eyes twinkling.I raised my eyebrows. ‘No time at all. Change of plan, I have to get straight back, sorry.’‘Ah, Sharon,’ he said, frowning. ‘Why do you go and tease me like that? You know how much I look forward to your visits. They’re the only thing that keeps me going in this lifeless place.’‘Sorry.’ I glanced down his body. Through his uniform — dark navy trousers and shirt — Tom’s well-defined muscles could be made out, as could a fantastically long wedge of flesh behind his fly.My pussy clenched as I remembered last week when I’d paid him a visit. He’d bent me over the desk and rammed himself into me for nearly an hour. It had been so damn hard to walk back onto the orthopeadic ward I’d actually considered nicking a pair of crutches.I hitched in a breath, knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep up my pretense for more than another few seconds. Tom’s big dick and his skillful use of it was too damn irresistible. ‘The ward is crazy busy.’He reached for me but I stepped away. ‘Just a kiss and a quick grope then, to keep me going.’Quickly I moved even further away, towards the autopsy room. ‘Ha, ha,’ I said gleefully. ‘Just kidding, I’m on my break now.’He flattened his lips into a tight line, as if holding back a broad smile, though at the same time narrowing his eyes as though furious with me. ‘You little minx,’ he said. ‘You’ll pay for that.’‘Only if you can catch me.’ I darted into the autopsy room, dark except for a couple of low lights over a set of huge scales. The air was cool and laced with disinfectant.I glanced around. There was a big, steel surgical table in the centre, a row of cupboards, several filing cabinets and a desk holding an ancient computer monitor.‘Sharon,’ Tom called, the door shutting behind him with a soft whoosh. ‘You can’t escape.’‘No, please, no,’ I said on a giggle and ran towards the far side of the room.He chased but I dodged at the last minute, went to run for the door. He cut me off and I swivelled, found myself barging into the bolted-down table in the middle.I gasped as the air flew from my lungs, but recovered quickly and, with my hands flat on the cool surface, scooted to the end.Tom was facing me now, his face strewn with shadows, but I could see the thrill of the chase had flushed his cheeks and caused him to pant.‘Come here,’ he said, edging closer.‘No.’ I moved away from him in a circle around the table.But it was futile, he was tall, fast and strong. Suddenly I was grabbed and tugged to the end, my body pulled up against his.He pressed his lips down hard on mine and instantly the game was over. Now it was all about carnal satisfaction. With Tom I was always guaranteed a spectacular orgasm and I couldn’t wait to start riding towards it.‘Ah, yeah, baby, I’ve got you,’ he said, shoving my coat off and flicking it out of the way. ‘You gonna take it good again? Like you did last week?’‘Yes,’ I panted, tearing at the buttons on his shirt. ‘Yes, that was so hot, I could hardly bloody walk the next day.’He chuckled, low, deep and sexy, then kissed me again, the stubble on his chin scraping my skin and his breaths blowing hot and hard on my cheek.He had my uniform up around my waist now and was forcing me to lay back on the ice-cold table. He stepped between my legs and leaned over me, pressing his groin into the gusset of my knickers.‘Really, on here?’ I said, slotting my fingers into his hair and drawing my knees up so they pressed either side of his hips. ‘Where they chop up dead people? Isn’t that a bit freaky?’‘The French for orgasm is petite mort so it’s kind of fitting.’ He was fiddling with the elastic of my underwear, at the juncture of my thighs.‘Yeah, I suppose, but, oh…’ My words were cut off and turned into a delighted moan. He’d plunged two fingers high up inside me and found my clit with his thumb.‘Oh, you’re such a dirty nurse,’ he murmured, kissing and licking over my cheek. ‘I bet you’ve been getting wetter and wetter ever since that poor old sod croaked, haven’t you?’‘I…’ Words wouldn’t come. My brain could only concentrate on his touch.He pulled out a little, shoved back in and set up a steady rhythm. Small squelching noises echoed around the room, mixing with my panting breaths and the sound of my pulse raging in my ears.‘I love it when you get so wet for me,’ he said, gripping the back of my neck with his free hand and nibbling the side of my throat. ‘I’m going to really miss your cream, Sharon.’‘Ah, yes, Tom, please, I want you in me.’ His hand was good, but a hand was a hand. Tom’s equipment was sensational, the sort of specimen that should be pickled in a jar when he died and saved in a museum as a perfect example of the human penis.‘Coming right up, baby,’ he said, withdrawing and fumbling with his flies.I shoved at my knickers, gasped briefly at the chill on my buttocks, then kicked the material away. I tried not to think of the bodies that had lain lifeless where I was about to be screwed senseless. Perhaps it would re-balance the karma for this table — if furniture held karma, that was.Tom was rolling a condom on with astonishing efficiency. ‘You’re the only one that ever takes all of me,’ he said, looking me in the eye. ‘And it feels amazing.’‘Tell me about it.’ I reached for him and kissed him hungrily as he pressed me back onto the hardness of the metal. He tasted of coffee, chocolate and perhaps a hint of tobacco. He tasted of Tom, which to me meant sex and pleasure and orgasms of the super-intense variety.He was nudging into me. I locked my ankles in the small of his back and gripped the sleeves of his shirt. This part always required a good amount of concentration on my behalf if it was to be erotic pain and not ow-that-hurts pain.‘Yeah, that’s it,’ he said into my mouth and gaining the first inch of entry.I held my breath, waiting for more, desperate for more, all of it, all of him.‘Damn, you feel so hot,’ he said, pressing his chin against my temple.His stubble would leave a telltale red rash, but I didn’t care, to hell with any consequences. Right now I just wanted more of him inside me.I rocked my hips up to meet him and he pushed in — much faster than usual.‘Oh, yes,’ I cried out as red flashes filled my vision. ‘So good.’‘Only good?’ He stilled.‘Fantastic, and you know it.’ I half-heartedly thumped his arm. ‘Just give it to me.’He hesitated for a second, then shunted in completely.I cried out, so did he.The brutal entry and the swirling pleasure-pain had my entire body tensing.‘Ah, yeah,’ he groaned, lifting his head and staring at the wall behind me. ‘Fuck yeah.’I felt like I would burst. That at any moment the tip of his cock would come right out of my throat. How was it possible for my little body to take such a monster? I didn’t know, but it did, and it felt bloody incredible.Tom began to move. Keeping himself lodged high, he churned his hips in a circular movement, catching my clit just right.Groaning, I arched my back, lifted off the table and clung to him. Already the first blissful sparks of orgasm were there. It wouldn’t take long.‘Ah, yeah, this isn’t going to be a marathon session like last week,’ he said. ‘You’ve got me too damn hot for you. I’m near already.’‘Me too.’ I smoothed my hands over his shoulders. ‘Me too.’He pulled halfway out, sliding easily, then rode back in. We both grunted and I harnessed the growing pressure.‘Yeah,’ he said, repeating the process. ‘Oh, yeah.’‘Faster, harder,’ I said, catching his fleshy earlobe in my mouth and sucking.‘Your wish is my command.’Suddenly our mating cranked up a notch. If it had been desperate before, now it was frantic, wild and utterly animalistic. Breathing no longer mattered, nor did the rest of the universe. Tom inside me and the explosion about to detonate was all that existed.‘Ah, I’m coming,’ I shouted, biting down on his earlobe.‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he groaned, shifting his head but not escaping my teeth.He was rod-hard, as hard as he ever got. And I was being impaled; he was ramming me down as much as he was forging into me.It was there. I was spinning through ecstasy, my body not my own for a few sweeter-than-sweet seconds, but belonging to a glorious state of heavenly pleasure.And then came the best bit, my pussy contracting and spasming around Tom’s cock. My internal muscles rejoicing at the incredible length and girth they had to grip and shudder against.Tom was coming too, at the perfect moment. He was groaning and moaning like a dying man. I released his ear, found his mouth and kissed him. He kissed back, hungrily.‘Oh, yeah, that was so good,’ he said, breathless and finally slowing his thrusting hips.‘Tell me about it.’ I was trembling, my flesh prickly and sweat-coated.‘You’re incredible,’ he said.‘Kind of you to say so.’ I brushed his hair back from his face where it was hanging like dark fingers around his forehead. ‘How are the wedding plans going?’‘Not bad, Cheryl is stressed but her mum’s helping her.’‘It must be a nightmare planning such a big event for so many people.’‘Yeah, well, it’s what she wants.’He touched his nose to mine, rubbed it in an Eskimo kiss. ‘Are you sure we can’t still do this once I’ve tied the knot?’‘We’ve had this conversation before.’ I stroked his earlobe — it was wet and slightly swollen from my exuberant kisses and bites.‘I know, but bloody hell, Sharon, we’re so damn good together.’ As if to prove the point he ground into me, extracting another delicious tremor. I couldn’t hold in a satisfied groan.‘I have some morals, you know,’ I said when I’d recovered, ‘and screwing married men is definitely on my list of no-no’s.’‘But how is this different? I’m engaged to be married right now.’‘You haven’t promised to forsake all others yet, though, have you?’‘No, I suppose not.’ He kissed me gently. ‘I will miss this. You. Us.’‘Me too. But Cheryl makes you happy and will do for the rest of your life.’‘Yep, she’s great.’ He pulled out and straightened.I became aware of the cold, unyielding surface I was lying on and the dampness between my legs.‘I’ve got cheese sandwiches and a porkpie in my tuckbox if you want to share,’ he said, tugging off the condom and slipping his still semi-erect cock away.‘Sounds great.’ I jumped off the slab of metal, pulled on my knickers and straightened my uniform.I would miss my time with Tom and his talented dick, but that was just the way it was. Cheryl would have to learn to cope with him and I’d have to find myself another well-hung pastime.Perhaps an Italian one was in order.
Buy Links
Amazon US - $1.60
Amazon UK - £0.99
Kobo
Barnes and Noble
Mischief - find more links to retailers here.
January 22, 2013
Tarzan is coming soon!
A wild man with primitive desires, will anyone be able to tame him? Find out on the 4th of February!
A handsome English aristocrat raised in the jungle by apes, self-sufficient, thriving on danger and with a head full of unanswered questions. Where is he from? Why is he different? What will satisfy the hunger that eats away at the very core of his being and finally feed his appetite for something other than food and shelter?
A delicate American woman, expected to be the best she can be and marry well, but with a craving for adventure and exploration as well as a hope in her heart to find true love with a man who can sweep her off her feet.
When the two very different souls collide, in deepest, darkest Africa, only one thing can happen, and it’s raw and feral. Lust a common language, satisfaction the ultimate goal. But will the gentleman outshine the savage-man? Is virtue to be honoured? And when faced with a civilised decision, can Tarzan do the right thing?
Reader Advisory: This book contains one scene of dubious consent.
Excerpt
Tarzan’s cock surged again. He curled his toes and gnawed at the inside of his cheek. The anticipation of Jane removing her camisole was the greatest torture imaginable. Worse than waiting for prey to walk into his path when his stomach was rumbling, and much harder to bear than the years without knowledge of his species. He watched nervously, excitedly, as she swept her gaze around the treeline, as if checking for spying eyes. Then, apparently content that she was entirely alone, she furled her fingers beneath her camisole and slid it, slowly, inch by agonising inch, over her head. With a flick of abandon she tossed it onto the rock that was holding her other, neatly folded clothes. Then she pushed her hair from her face, throwing it over her shoulders as she arched her back and closed her eyes.It was all Tarzan could do to stay in that tree, for his body was primed like a bull, each one of his perfect muscles taut and ready for action. Jane was exquisite and his desire to touch her, taste her, there on her chest, was almost overwhelming. His cock tingled with want, his bollocks drew up tight into his body. A glistening bead of sweat formed and trickled from his temple down to his jawline where it sat, unnoticed by him.Jane opened her eyes and stroked a hand over her right bosom, removing a tiny insect that had been attracted to her flowery scent. She then hooked her fingers into the waistband of her embroidered white drawers and pushed them to the floor.Tarzan felt as if his breath had been stolen from his chest. His heart beat as though he’d been racing through the jungle, his pulse thrumming madly in his ears and clattering dangerously against his rib cage. The neat triangle of blonde hair at the juncture of Jane’s thighs was all he could focus on. If the urge to kiss and touch her beautiful breasts had been powerful, then this feeling was almost violent. He salivated at the thought of kissing her there, between her legs, touching her, testing her tightness with his fingers. He wanted, more than he’d ever wanted anything else in his life, to sink his rigid cock into the clutching wetness he knew would be waiting for him in Jane Porter’s body.It was sheer iron will that kept Tarzan in the tree—but it should be remembered that even iron has its snapping point.After laying her drawers on the rock that held her other clothes, Jane turned, naked, to the lagoon and took the couple of steps down the bank to the water’s edge. She hesitated, toes dipped into the water, and glanced at the cascading fall to her left.Tarzan stared at her, captivated by her pert behind. Two globes of the palest flesh, each one about the size of his hand. In many of the stories in One Man’s Urge, Cecil liked to palm and squeeze his women’s behinds and Tarzan could now see why. Jane’s bottom looked thoroughly squeezable, and certainly he would like to stroke its contours, learn the shape and texture of every delectable curve.As a butterfly flitted around her head, Jane waded into the water, moving from the shallows to where it came up to her waist. She gasped at the coolness then sank her shoulders under, her hair floating behind her, and took several strokes toward the falling water. When she reached it, she stood again, exposing her upper body, and faced the bank where she had left her clothes. She tipped her head back, into the waterfall, shut her eyes and smoothed her hair until it became a shade darker with wetness and clung in one long rope down her back.Tarzan jumped silently from the tree.
* * * *Find out about all my Clandestine Classics by clicking below.
And if you want to pre-order your copy, visit Total-E-Bound.
Thanks for stopping by,
Lily x
A handsome English aristocrat raised in the jungle by apes, self-sufficient, thriving on danger and with a head full of unanswered questions. Where is he from? Why is he different? What will satisfy the hunger that eats away at the very core of his being and finally feed his appetite for something other than food and shelter?
A delicate American woman, expected to be the best she can be and marry well, but with a craving for adventure and exploration as well as a hope in her heart to find true love with a man who can sweep her off her feet.
When the two very different souls collide, in deepest, darkest Africa, only one thing can happen, and it’s raw and feral. Lust a common language, satisfaction the ultimate goal. But will the gentleman outshine the savage-man? Is virtue to be honoured? And when faced with a civilised decision, can Tarzan do the right thing?
Reader Advisory: This book contains one scene of dubious consent.
Excerpt
Tarzan’s cock surged again. He curled his toes and gnawed at the inside of his cheek. The anticipation of Jane removing her camisole was the greatest torture imaginable. Worse than waiting for prey to walk into his path when his stomach was rumbling, and much harder to bear than the years without knowledge of his species. He watched nervously, excitedly, as she swept her gaze around the treeline, as if checking for spying eyes. Then, apparently content that she was entirely alone, she furled her fingers beneath her camisole and slid it, slowly, inch by agonising inch, over her head. With a flick of abandon she tossed it onto the rock that was holding her other, neatly folded clothes. Then she pushed her hair from her face, throwing it over her shoulders as she arched her back and closed her eyes.It was all Tarzan could do to stay in that tree, for his body was primed like a bull, each one of his perfect muscles taut and ready for action. Jane was exquisite and his desire to touch her, taste her, there on her chest, was almost overwhelming. His cock tingled with want, his bollocks drew up tight into his body. A glistening bead of sweat formed and trickled from his temple down to his jawline where it sat, unnoticed by him.Jane opened her eyes and stroked a hand over her right bosom, removing a tiny insect that had been attracted to her flowery scent. She then hooked her fingers into the waistband of her embroidered white drawers and pushed them to the floor.Tarzan felt as if his breath had been stolen from his chest. His heart beat as though he’d been racing through the jungle, his pulse thrumming madly in his ears and clattering dangerously against his rib cage. The neat triangle of blonde hair at the juncture of Jane’s thighs was all he could focus on. If the urge to kiss and touch her beautiful breasts had been powerful, then this feeling was almost violent. He salivated at the thought of kissing her there, between her legs, touching her, testing her tightness with his fingers. He wanted, more than he’d ever wanted anything else in his life, to sink his rigid cock into the clutching wetness he knew would be waiting for him in Jane Porter’s body.It was sheer iron will that kept Tarzan in the tree—but it should be remembered that even iron has its snapping point.After laying her drawers on the rock that held her other clothes, Jane turned, naked, to the lagoon and took the couple of steps down the bank to the water’s edge. She hesitated, toes dipped into the water, and glanced at the cascading fall to her left.Tarzan stared at her, captivated by her pert behind. Two globes of the palest flesh, each one about the size of his hand. In many of the stories in One Man’s Urge, Cecil liked to palm and squeeze his women’s behinds and Tarzan could now see why. Jane’s bottom looked thoroughly squeezable, and certainly he would like to stroke its contours, learn the shape and texture of every delectable curve.As a butterfly flitted around her head, Jane waded into the water, moving from the shallows to where it came up to her waist. She gasped at the coolness then sank her shoulders under, her hair floating behind her, and took several strokes toward the falling water. When she reached it, she stood again, exposing her upper body, and faced the bank where she had left her clothes. She tipped her head back, into the waterfall, shut her eyes and smoothed her hair until it became a shade darker with wetness and clung in one long rope down her back.Tarzan jumped silently from the tree.
* * * *Find out about all my Clandestine Classics by clicking below.
And if you want to pre-order your copy, visit Total-E-Bound.
Thanks for stopping by,
Lily x
January 21, 2013
Foreplay Monday
Today I'm over at Laurel Clements as a guest on Foreplay Monday sharing an excerpt from my about-to-be-released Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse - due out on 24th Jan
Mandy's He-Man by Donna Gallagher
Can this rugged mountain of a man really protect her, teach her to trust and love again? Or will the choices she’s made in the past destroy her future?
Blurb
Having managed to break free from an abusive relationship with a cruel and dominating ex-boyfriend, Australian artist Mandy Magenta—a.k.a. Amanda Smith—should be terrified when she first meets the enormous bulk that is Jonathon ‘JT’ Thomson. He is fierce. Not only is JT the biggest, most muscular man Mandy has ever set eyes on, but he makes a living playing the brutal sport of Rugby League.
So why, then, does Mandy’s body go into lust overdrive at the mere sight of him? She doesn’t feel a hint of alarm as the colours that exist in her mind—created and inspired by her own emotions and her artistic talents—explode with vibrant and passionate intensity. Could JT be the man to remind her that she is still a sensual, amorous woman, a woman deserving of love and tenderness—and can he protect her from the threats her ex has promised to deliver on?
Excerpt
As they lay in each other’s arms, JT whispered to Mandy, “Happy birthday, Mags. Hope you’ve had a day to remember.”
“Oh, He-Man, the best ever. But it’s still my birthday and I want another present. It amazes me how something so hard can feel so soft to touch…” Mandy gave a sultry purr as she wrapped her palm around JT’s erection. “My favourite part is this raised bit, just here,” Mandy teased as her finger rimmed the mushroom-shaped head of JT’s penis, stopping at the slight join of flesh at the top. JT could only moan and growl in response as she wrapped her soft hand around his steel-hard cock.
Mandy lowered her head and blew gently on the enormous length that stood erect before her, then ran the tip of her tongue slowly over the same path that her finger had taken before it, loving the way JT jerked in response. She took him into her mouth slowly, pressing her lips together tightly to create just enough friction as she sucked his warm cock all the way into her mouth, until the head bumped the back of her throat.
Mandy tried to relax her throat even more, so she could take all of him, moving her mouth up and down. She grazed her teeth gently along the rigid shaft as she pumped her hand in a complementary rhythm.
She was enjoying herself, totally absorbed in her endeavours. She could feel the moisture building between her thighs and squeezed them together to try to ease the ache. Now she was so in tune with JT’s body, Mandy knew he was getting close. When he tried to pull her mouth away from his almost exploding cock, she shook her head and sucked harder.
“Woman, I’m coming in your mouth if you don’t let go. I can’t hold on any longer,” JT groaned.
About the author
Sydney-born Donna Gallagher decided at an early age that life needed be tackled head on.Leaving home at 15 she supported herself through her teen years. In her twenties she married a professional sportsman, her love of sport -- especially rugby league -- probably overriding her good sense.
The seven-year marriage was an adventure. There were the emotional ups and downs of having a husband with a public profile in a sometimes glamorous but always high-pressure field. There were always interesting characters to meet and observe and even the opportunity to live for a time in the UK.Eventually Donna returned home a single woman, but she never lost her passion for watching sport, as well as the people in and around it.
Now happily re-married and with three sons Donna loves coffee mornings with her female friends, sorting through problems from the personal to the international. But she's on even footing with the keenest man when it comes to watching and talking rugby league.
Donna considers herself something of a black sheep in a family of high achievers. Her brother has a doctorate in mathematics and her sister is a well-known sports journalist.
An avid reader, especially of romance, Donna finally found she couldn't stop the characters residing in her imagination from spilling onto paper. Naturally rugby league is the backdrop to her League of Love Series, published through UK publisher Total-E-Bound, spicy tales of hunky heroes and spunky heroines overcoming adversity to eventually find true love.
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Buy Links
Caitlin’s Hero
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Amazon
ARe
Mandy’s He-man
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Print Book
Laura’s Light
TEB
January 20, 2013
Sunday Snog - Anything for Him
Blurb
I prefer to chase the news, not be the news. But when the delectable Liuz, with his uncannily accurate perception of my secret desires weaved his way into my life, it wasn’t long before I was in way too deep, submerged and intoxicated with a passion I was afraid was more than I could handle.
Or was it? Because although my heart was overwhelmed with feelings I had no resistance against, and while my deceitful body was consumed by a burning passion, I still had a plan. A plan I prayed would keep me afloat as I was pushed to the very edge of my limits, while the journey got tougher than even my wildest flights of fantasy could have imagined.
I claimed him and I felt that he was rightfully mine. My heart simply couldn’t beat without a permanent connection between our hearts, minds and bodies. Losing was not an option, not when my sanity depended on winning him.
Because I would, quite literally, do anything for him.
SNOG
‘Oh, fuck, Hannah. I have never been one for stamina in the morning, and you are about to fucking finish me off.’ His cheeks had risen in colour to a strawberry red, his bottom lip milky white where his top teeth were biting into it. He looked beautiful in his agonising battle with pleasure, and I knew I would paint him like this as soon as I got the chance. He would look magnificent on my wall in this frantic state. I upped the speed, both hands assiduous in their task. My arms ached, but I didn’t care – this was not about me, this was about Liuz. His groans got louder, more abandoned. My heart thumped and sweat pricked between my cleavage. He was getting close, so close now. My body was buzzing too. ‘Ah, oh, God, Hannah,’ he gasped, peeling back his lips to reveal his teeth in a strained grimace. His cock became dense, more solid, and his balls packed up into his pelvis. I stared at his cock-head jigging with the rapid movements of my hands. The whole glans was swollen like a ripe plum, and the slit deep and pliant within my movements. Another drip of pre-cum, white against the redness, leaked out. He bowed his back off the bed, his head pressed into the pillow, and lurched his hips upwards for more of my touch. ‘Ah, yes, I am coming, Hannah – yes, yes – tak, tak.’ I released him, held my hands up high, fingers spread, and stared down at his abandoned cock. ‘Oh, Jesus, oh, God, no, no, fuck it, argh!’ He wailed as though in agony, his body writhing, twisting this way and that. The headboard was bouncing wildly off the wall with the full force of his furious tugging. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ he shouted, his cock, shiny and engorged, bobbing uncontrollably in the air. Power seeped through me like slow-running lava, heating a trail of controlling emotions, new emotions. Watching Liuz squirming and needy, desperate for me, showed me a new, darker side to myself that I hadn’t known existed. And just when I thought I could surprise myself no more. ‘Fuck, you think that is funny, do you?’ Liuz snarled. ‘Jesus, if only you knew.’ ‘Ah, baby,’ I said, edging backwards when he wriggled nearer to me. ‘You really wanted to come then, didn’t you?’ ‘You know I fucking did. Christ, you cannot do that to a guy, Hannah.’ ‘I can, and I did.’ He was breathing fast through gritted teeth, a speck of saliva in the corner of his mouth. ‘Shh,’ I said quietly and tipped forward to kiss him. ‘It will be worth the wait, I promise.’ His eyes flashed with fury and were dark with desire. For a moment he looked as though he was going to snap his head away. But he didn’t, he let me kiss him, slowly and seductively, while his breathing settled. Suddenly he yanked his arms again, with gusto, jerking both of us. ‘Liuz,’ I said, glancing at the delicate scarves. ‘You’re being a bad boy. I am going to have to tie you tighter.’ ‘Jesus, Hannah,’ he said, crumpling up his nose. ‘Just get on and ride me, will you?’ Quickly, I left the bed, plucked two more scarves from my collection – one bottle-green and one cream with tiny love hearts – and wound them around his wrists, doubling the security and tension. ‘Do you want me to bind your legs as well?’ I asked sternly. He glared at me, like he would have grabbed me, shoved me down and fucked me hard and fast if he could have. But, of course, he couldn’t. Scooting down the bed, I eased between his legs, licked my lips and watched his cock bob towards me. The engorged veins pulsated in time with my racing heartbeat. ‘I never teased you like this,’ he said in a shaky voice. ‘I think you’ll find you did, but in other ways,’ I said, purposely letting my breath breeze over his moist cock, knowing the cooling effect would be stimulation in itself. His cock strained towards my mouth, and he groaned, a deep rumbling sound that originated low in his chest. I poked out my tongue, and carefully, cunningly, swept up the clear bead from the slit. Liuz froze. It was as if every nerve and fibre in his body had honed in on that one tiny dent. I swept my tongue around the ridge, tasting the cocoa butter and Liuz’s unique, delicious, amazing dick flavour. He was a mass of tremulous desire lying beneath me, but I wasn’t faring much better. His command to ride him had been hard to disobey and I knew now, I wouldn’t be far off doing just that. But I wanted him deep in my mouth first, I wanted to feel him nudge the back of my throat, feel a streak of thick pre-cum coat the base of my tongue. Parting my lips, I sank down, taking his cock as far into my mouth as I could. ‘Oh, fuck,’ Liuz groaned. ‘Yes, that is it.’ But I only gave him one – one deep-throated ride then pulled up, releasing his cock once more so it stood upright like a startled soldier, standing to attention. This time he didn’t even bother to curse in complaint, he just moaned long and low then gabbled something in Polish. But I was still touching him, fondling his balls and caressing the thin strip of skin towards his anus. He was so hot, so tight, so delectably lubricated, my fingers slipped and slid all over him, no part out of bounds, even the tight circle of his back passage. Triumph welled within me, mixing with my lust to form an intoxicating rush of impatience. He was mine and finally it was time.
Buy Links can be found on the Mischief webpage, Amazon US HERE
January 18, 2013
Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse - Coming Soon
Out on the 24th of January, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, published by Mischief at Harper Collins.
I only got this cover two days ago and I'm absolutely loving it. The hot pink is as shocking as some of the scenes inside and the sassy jaunt of the hip the nurse is displaying is so in keeping with my heroines flirty nature. I also love how the uniform is sexy without it looking like something from an 'over 18 shop' too; the hem just a fraction too short, the material a smidge to tight, and the heels, well I wouldn't like to have worked in them when I was on the wards, but they certainly work here.
Blurb
When scalpels are set down, the ward lights turned off and the patients asleep, there is always time for mischief …
I guess you could call me a jack-of-all-trades nurse. I find work satisfaction in whichever department the hospital needs me most, as long as it’s through the darkest hours. Needless to say I’ve seen it all over the years, been there and done that, what’s left to shock me isn’t worth knowing. But it’s so often the quieter nighttime where the real high jinx abound.
Yes, the nocturnal life is the one for me. With a weakness for sexy guys wearing white coats and dangling stethoscopes, my fantasies are often realised and I’m adept at finding relief from the hospital grind in shadowy corners and cozy linen cupboards.
Of course my dedication to patient comfort is paramount. What kind of nurse would I be if it wasn’t? But when one act of extreme, albeit highly inappropriate, kindness forced me to become the hospital director’s snitch, the length I went to in order to keep my job, satisfied my desires and found me the love that had always evaded me. A love that made me push even my not-so-professional boundaries to the extreme.
Mischief
Amazon US
Amazon UK
I only got this cover two days ago and I'm absolutely loving it. The hot pink is as shocking as some of the scenes inside and the sassy jaunt of the hip the nurse is displaying is so in keeping with my heroines flirty nature. I also love how the uniform is sexy without it looking like something from an 'over 18 shop' too; the hem just a fraction too short, the material a smidge to tight, and the heels, well I wouldn't like to have worked in them when I was on the wards, but they certainly work here.
Blurb
When scalpels are set down, the ward lights turned off and the patients asleep, there is always time for mischief …
I guess you could call me a jack-of-all-trades nurse. I find work satisfaction in whichever department the hospital needs me most, as long as it’s through the darkest hours. Needless to say I’ve seen it all over the years, been there and done that, what’s left to shock me isn’t worth knowing. But it’s so often the quieter nighttime where the real high jinx abound.
Yes, the nocturnal life is the one for me. With a weakness for sexy guys wearing white coats and dangling stethoscopes, my fantasies are often realised and I’m adept at finding relief from the hospital grind in shadowy corners and cozy linen cupboards.
Of course my dedication to patient comfort is paramount. What kind of nurse would I be if it wasn’t? But when one act of extreme, albeit highly inappropriate, kindness forced me to become the hospital director’s snitch, the length I went to in order to keep my job, satisfied my desires and found me the love that had always evaded me. A love that made me push even my not-so-professional boundaries to the extreme.
Mischief
Amazon US
Amazon UK
