Lily Harlem's Blog, page 262
December 25, 2012
69 Shades!!
HAPPY CHRISTMAS!!!!!
TO CELEBRATE THIS SPECIAL DAY I'M GUEST BLOGGING AT 69 SHADES OF SMUT AND LETTING YOU KNOW ALL ABOUT THE FREEBIES YOU CAN GRAB FOR YOUR NEW E-READER
December 23, 2012
Sexy Santas have a gift for you!
Smutters Advent Calendar!
Don't forget to head on over to the Smutters Advent Calendar today to get your Christmas treat from me!!
Six Sentence Sunday; A sinful mural! #SixSunday
I haven't done Six Sentence Sunday before, but I thought I'd give it a go this week just for the fun of it!!
Here is a snippet from a book that was published by Mischief at Harper Collins on Thursday 20th of Dec. It's called Anything For Him and is co-written with the awesome Natalie Dae.
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.
* * * *
Here's Six from Anything For Him, a gritty tale set in London about one woman's obsession with a man who understands her darkest erotic fantasies.
I squeezed and strummed at my nipples as I admired my full-size mural. Liuz stood before me, brooding, naked and hot enough to sear my skin. Grabbing the pile of photos from my printer tray, I then spread them on the floor around myself, covering my cut hair and the new splatters of paint with the photos’ cool surfaces. There was only one thing on my mind – an orgasm. I had to climax, now. After knocking back the last of my wine, I delved into the desk drawer and pulled out my favourite long black vibrator.
Buy links
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Barnes and Noble
KOBO
Google Books
Thanks for stopping by.
Lily x
Blisse Advent Calendar!
Don't forget to head on over to the Blisse Advent Calendar today to get your Christmas treat from me!!
December 22, 2012
Clandestine Classic, Tarzan of the Apes
I've been a very busy girl and I've teamed up with another author, not my usual partner in naughty writings, Natalie Dae, but this time, the fabulous Edgar Rice Burroughs!!!
You may have heard of Total-E-Bound's Clandestine Classic range of novels, the international media took great interest in the sexing up of classics back in the summer. Well, now I have joined in the fun, and boy was I excited to get my hot little hands on Tarzan. I've always had a bit of a thing for this hunky man of the jungle, just the thought of him swinging through the trees in his teeny, tiny loincloth makes me all aquiver!
If you'd like to find out all the juicy gossip on my version of Tarzan of the Apes, hit the button below and head over to the dedicated Clandestine Classic blog! What's more, while you're there, leave a comment and be in with a chance to win Tarzan of the Apes when it is released on the 4th of Feb 2013 AND a £50 voucher to spend at Total-E-Bound!!!
You may have heard of Total-E-Bound's Clandestine Classic range of novels, the international media took great interest in the sexing up of classics back in the summer. Well, now I have joined in the fun, and boy was I excited to get my hot little hands on Tarzan. I've always had a bit of a thing for this hunky man of the jungle, just the thought of him swinging through the trees in his teeny, tiny loincloth makes me all aquiver!
If you'd like to find out all the juicy gossip on my version of Tarzan of the Apes, hit the button below and head over to the dedicated Clandestine Classic blog! What's more, while you're there, leave a comment and be in with a chance to win Tarzan of the Apes when it is released on the 4th of Feb 2013 AND a £50 voucher to spend at Total-E-Bound!!!
December 21, 2012
TAKE YOUR PARTNER - FREE anthology by LoveHoney featuring 3 of my stories!
I was thrilled recently to be asked by LOVEHONEY to contribute to their anthology TAKE YOUR PARTNER. The book is hot off the press and to celebrate the good people at LoveHoney are giving it away for FREE between now and the 25th of December. Now there's a nice little holiday gift :-)
The three stories I have nestled within these pages each follow a different sexual encounter my two characters Cassie and Jake embark upon. When Cassie finds a booklet containing vouchers for sexual favours, it really spices up the action in the bedroom, or the garden or the... you get my drift!
Here's the details of all the book's contents...
1. Take Your Partner by BlacksilkTango is the dance of love, and when our newly single heroine finds herself dancing with the boyish Georgie at her weekly class, she definitely feels some strong emotions. (FF)
2. Delice de Chocolat by Viva Jones For her 35th birthday, Shelley’s friends treat her to a chocolate cooking class with sexy French chef Laurent de Villier. When the heat rises in the kitchen, she receives a different kind of lesson... (MF)
3. I Promise to... Please by Lily HarlemCassie and Jake have slipped into the routine of boring married sex—but that all changes when Cassie finds a booklet of sexual vouchers. She presents one to Jake in the hope that it will reawaken some of their desire. (MF)
4. In Control by Hope Willowbrook Jenna and Blake’s relationship has come to a standstill. Egged on by her crazy friend Helen, Jenna does some research and experiments with being a dominatrix. (MF)
5. I Don’t Do This by G C CarmineChris and Jack have been friends for years, but never like this. This heartwarming tale follows them as they take their relationship to a new level. (MM)
6. Paris by Moonlight by Justine Elyot A stranger in a new city spots a gorgeous local who takes her out for a night of very risqué, very public naughtiness. (MF)
7. I Promise to... Surrender by Lily Harlem Working through their sex vouchers, Cassie is delighted to find Jake expressing a more dominant side. When Jake presents her with a voucher, Cassie is fascinated with the idea of going ‘over the knee’. (MF)
8. The Princess and the G-Spot by Neneh GordonA sexy take on the traditional fairy tale. A disgruntled princess arrives back to her bedchamber to find a gift from a handsome but arrogant suitor, determined to woo her. (MF)
9. I Promise to... Perform by Lily Harlem Emboldened by their recent experimentations, Jake and Cassie act out another sexual fantasy... to the world. (MF)
10. Robot with Green Eyes by L A MeadowsIn a world where robots are highly developed and used for everyday tasks, Anna is thrilled to finally own one of her own. Little does she realise, this particular robot has a very specific set of skills. (F/Robot)
This little gem of a collection might be just the thing to slip into your partners stocking this year, so grab your FREE copy between 21st and 25th of December!
While you're there, don't miss out on The Intimate Stranger, another fabulous anthology, and you guessed it, also FREE between those dates.
Go, run, what are you waiting for...
Lily x
December 20, 2012
ANYTHING FOR HIM - OUT NOW!
Today I'm thrilled to be celebrating the release of ANYTHING FOR HIM with my awesome co-author Natalie Dae. This dark and gritty novel, set in London, explores the power of obsession, the pursuit of seedy desires and lands the heroine in more trouble than she ever bargained for!
ANYTHING FOR HIM is also our first title with Mischief at Harper Collins.
Blurb
Just how far will one woman go to fulfil her fantasies?
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 its 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.
Chapter One
I stared at the photograph he’d emailed me. He’d promised he would and, finally, it had arrived. It wasn’t what I’d expected; not that I thought for a minute he’d send me a copy of his passport photo; but this, this had really taken me by surprise. The odd angle of the camera lens and the overwhelming suggestiveness shocked me. It was deeply personal, completely voyeuristic and undoubtedly the most erotic image I had ever laid eyes on. But it gave nothing away of the face I longed to see; yet, it told me so much about the man I’d been obsessing about for weeks. I reached over and clicked the printer to life. As it clanked through the setting-up motions, I leaned closer to my computer screen and allowed him to fill my vision. His long, pale, black-hair-coated shin was in the forefront of the picture. The knee flopped wantonly towards the camera, making the patella the largest thing in the frame. His foot was out of shot. Beyond his leg, I could make out the right side of his torso – just – a small amount of lean waist, a hint at a taut set of ribs and a balled shoulder leading to what looked like a busy hand. I say busy, because he appeared to be jerking off, but of course, that could just be my filthy imagination. His head was thrown back, his chin jutted upwards, his prominent Adam’s apple in profile against the bottle-green wall behind him. Other than his chin, not one facial feature could be identified, but what I saw of his chin, chiselled and dented at the centre, led me to believe the rest of his face would be angular and long. Seedy shadows doused the whole image, the covers on the bed dusky green, almost brown, and the lighting, maybe shining through a cheap drawn curtain, was dim. He seemed completely uninhibited despite the camera, which I guessed was on a timer. I gulped down a bite of bile as a sudden wave of regret at the photo I’d sent him rolled through me. I’d thought I was being sassy, original, beating him at his own game. But it was clear now that I played with someone who knew how to think out of the box, stay a step ahead, out-manoeuvre me without even needing to try. The printer creaked to readiness and I hit the print button. I had to have his image in my hands, laser scanned, details ripe for scrutiny. As it whirred and heaved and slowly spat out the paper, I paced my office-cum-artist studio, frantically scratching the tops of my arms with my nails. Damn that picture of my right areola. Not that it was a bad areola or a bad picture, it wasn’t. I was perfectly pert and the pixel count excellent. I had even rubbed an ice cube around my tight nub, before pulling it to a painful point, then, as a final creative flair, shined a spotlight on it. The dark room and bright light had made my wet skin golden, my nipple a rosy pink. The round-tipped point was blood-filled, the flesh leading to it wrinkled in an ordered, twisted way, as it strained to seek out more stimulation. Damn that picture. His wasn’t exactly classy, but it was artistic, unique, risqué. Mine was just a token rude shot, though at least I’d resisted a shot of my newly shaved pussy. I would be in cringing hell right now if I’d followed through with that plan. The next question was, of course, would we meet? We’d had a deal – if we liked the look of one another we would make arrangements for a date, a face-to-face encounter. Although, judging by the dirty routes our conversations had taken lately, I reckoned there would be considerably more than just our faces meeting. At least that was what I hoped. So, my answer to ‘should we meet’ was a happy-dancing ‘yes’, my panties wet just from the sight of that bony shin and jauntily jutted head. The image of him alone, masturbating, thinking of me, possibly, had me so turned on my clit bobbed and my nipples were as tight as when they’d been treated to that ice cube. But what about him? Would he think me unimaginative, boring, dull? The trouble was with Liuz, he was so articulate, so self-assured, and despite his first language being Polish, his mastery of English was excellent. Not that mine isn’t too. I’m a journalist, studied at Canterbury, and I’m also an artist, but somehow he always seemed to second guess what I was saying, or going to say, in my emails. I held the newly printed-out photo in the air, the paper warm on my fingertips. I enjoyed having it A4 size, and peered closely. I could make out the dark shafts of his leg hairs winding out of his skin, the creases on the sheet below his body wrinkled like ripples in water. Perhaps, also, I could make out a burn of black-fuzzed hair coming down in front of his ear, but I couldn’t be sure. It could be more of the stubble that coated his neck. After retrieving a couple of drawing pins from a purple, sparkly pot on my desk, I hung Liuz’s image on my pin board, right in front of my desk. Where I could gorge on it; for when I looked at him, a fraction of the need, the burning want inside me, was sated. Taking a deep breath, I did what I had to do next – check my in-box. We’re in the same time zone now that I’m back from my business trip to the United States, so he could have possibly seen it already. Plus, as a general rule he was at his computer. I wasn’t sure exactly what he did, but he worked from home. Marketing he’d said, something about buying and selling stock. In-box. One new message. From him. I sucked in a breath and opened it. Those few seconds it took to process were absolute agony. ‘Your picture arrived.’ A rippling tightness in my guts had my belly tensing. Did he like it? Did he think I’d cheated by sending him so little to go on when he’d offered up so much? Given me such an honest picture that showed him vulnerable, a label I never would have given Liuz. Quickly, I typed a response. Typical me, I avoided the pressing point. ‘So did yours.’ ‘And what did you think?’ ‘I think you look like you are enjoying yourself.’ ‘Mmm, enjoying or just taking care of an urge? A necessary task, if you like.’ ‘So which was it?’ ‘Which would you rather it was?’ I hesitated for a moment, then decided to risk a knock-back. ‘I hope you were enjoying yourself. I hope you were thinking of me, imagining you were fucking me.’ I hit send and waited for a response. Nothing. One minute stretched into two. I stood and flung open the window to the autumn morning. Immediately, sounds of the city filtered up. Car horns, bus engines, the shouts of the workmen several buildings down. Another message. About bloody time. ‘I was thinking of you, but not about fucking you.’ ‘What then?’ ‘Ah, that’s for me to know and you to find out, Aniolku.’ I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth in frustration. He often did this, refused to answer something or turned it around on me. Also, if he knew he was playing coy, or being shifty, he’d nearly always add on ‘Aniolku’ at the end. I’d asked him what it meant a few weeks ago. He’d told me it was ‘angel’ in Polish. I’d laughed and said that surely by now he knew I was no angel. His reply was that was what made it such a perfect endearment for me. ‘Is that your bedroom?’ I asked, desperate to know more about the picture, and in turn, learn more about Liuz. ‘No, it’s my mate’s bedsit.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yeah, really.’ ‘Did he take the picture?’ ‘LOL, no, I was alone there. He just happens to have a nice camera.’ ‘Wouldn’t he mind you spunking out on his sheets?’ ‘I’m a big boy, I can control where I come. I’ve also heard of tissues.’ A rise of heat flushed over my chest, and I squirmed on the seat. Just the image of long, pearly jets of cum, spurting out onto that lean torso and dribbling into dark body hair, turned me on ridiculously. I could only imagine how his groans of pleasure would sound, how ragged his breaths would become, and what his sex-sweat would smell like, taste like. I wanted to know all of these things for real. I wanted to know every tiny morsel of information about Liuz more than anything else I’d ever wanted to know. There was an extended pause, then he typed, ‘Yours didn’t reveal much.’ ‘I thought the idea was not to give too much away.’ ‘You mean you were playing a game with me, and here was I thinking that we were just swapping honest photos of one another.’ ‘Yours is hardly a mantelpiece portrait.’ ‘Depends what else is on the mantelpiece.’ An image of his home came to my mind, created entirely in my imagination. He’d told me nothing other than that he lived in a mate’s bedsit in Brixton. Sharing or not, I wasn’t sure. But now, after seeing the photograph of his friend’s place, I visualised something painted in muted colours; moss green and muddy-puddle brown. Sparsely furnished with daylight penetrating curtains, bare bulbs. I don’t know why, but this image thrilled me so much more than the thought of a living space neat and ordered, pristine and thought-out. Liuz spent his time immersed in his work, head in his computer – well, either his work or indulging in teasing, flirting and sometimes downright rude talk with me – so I imagined his place would be functional rather than decorative. ‘OK, I should have given you more to go on,’ I typed back. ‘No worries, you have a nice tit. I can tell it would be a good handful and your nipple is perfectly suckable.’ I read that last line twice, and my areolas tingled deliciously at the thought of his mouth on me. Blood rushed to my entire breast, and my nipples pressed into my thin cotton bra. I circled my right nipple, the one on the photograph, over my clothes and allowed the stiffening sensation to bloom. ‘Would you like that?’ he replied before I could respond to his last email. ‘Yes.’ ‘What else would you like, Aniolku?’ ‘What else would you do?’ ‘You mean after I curled my tongue around your nipples, stroked my hands over your breasts and fed you deep into my mouth, pulling you in, devouring you, making you moan for more?’ ‘Yes, what else would you do?’ I had my hand inside my bra now, plucking and pulling at my nipple. I wished it was his hot mouth, hard and urgent, not gentle – rough and demanding was what I wanted, what I yearned for. ‘What would you want me to do?’ he asked. Damn him always throwing questions back at me. I closed my eyes. I had to write something. I knew him well enough by now to know he wouldn’t respond until I did. Once again an image flooded my mind. It was a lewd, sordid image of me, on my knees. A threadbare carpet beneath me and a bare light bulb above. I was naked, naked and submissive. Before me stood Liuz, tall, lean, golden-skinned, holding his cock towards my face. A beautiful cock, fat and generous in length, the glans engorged and the cleft below the head deep. I could see a drop of pre-cum nestled in the slit, and I could hear him telling me, ‘Lick it off, whore. Lick me, suck me. Do as I say.’ These images were new to me, sinfully wicked, and generated a well of guilt at what they suggested I really wanted, deep in my soul. But I couldn’t ignore them. Something about Liuz and the way he was with me had drawn rank thoughts and lusty needs to the surface; allowed them out to play, if only in my mind. It seemed they had moved in, for a while at least, and I couldn’t ignore them. I settled my fingertips over the keyboard and nibbled on my bottom lip as I wondered what to write. Nothing too crude, but something a little edgy. Eventually I settled on, ‘Next I want you to pretend my mouth is your hand. Do what you did to yourself in the picture.’ ‘You mean jerk into you hard and fast. I don’t wank like a delicate little flower, you know.’ ‘I can imagine.’ ‘I’d back you up against a wall and hold your head tight. Forge in and out without a thought for your breathing. After all, my hand doesn’t need to breathe, does it?’ My heart raced. ‘What else?’ ‘I wouldn’t give a shit about whether or not your gag reflex was killing you. I’d ram down your throat, enjoying the wet tightness. And I’d shout at you too.’ My fingers shook as I typed. ‘What would you shout?’ Lust screeched around my system. ‘That you had to suck harder, open wider, then when I was about to come I would shout at you to swallow, to keep swallowing until I told you to stop. I would keep ramming into you until my bollocks were drained and my cock started to soften.’ I stroked my clit through the gusset of my leggings and gave in to a few deep rotations. I knew I would have to masturbate soon. The need was building, a carnal pressure that would soon require release. One-handedly I replied, ‘OK.’ There was long pause, which allowed me to fret myself to an ass-clenching state of arousal; then he answered, ‘We should definitely meet.’ I’d sneaked my devilish fingers into my panties now, and the glossy pea that was my clitoris took a hard and fast beating. Once again, I typed ‘OK’ then, as I hit send, I arched my back, reared my hips off the seat and allowed a sharp climax to take control. I panted through the waves of pleasure. I squeezed my eyes shut and once again visualised Liuz before me, thrusting his dick into my mouth, over and over and over. Our meeting couldn’t come soon enough.
Amazon US
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Barnes and Noble
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More information can be found HERE
ANYTHING FOR HIM is also our first title with Mischief at Harper Collins.
Blurb
Just how far will one woman go to fulfil her fantasies?
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 its 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.
Chapter One
I stared at the photograph he’d emailed me. He’d promised he would and, finally, it had arrived. It wasn’t what I’d expected; not that I thought for a minute he’d send me a copy of his passport photo; but this, this had really taken me by surprise. The odd angle of the camera lens and the overwhelming suggestiveness shocked me. It was deeply personal, completely voyeuristic and undoubtedly the most erotic image I had ever laid eyes on. But it gave nothing away of the face I longed to see; yet, it told me so much about the man I’d been obsessing about for weeks. I reached over and clicked the printer to life. As it clanked through the setting-up motions, I leaned closer to my computer screen and allowed him to fill my vision. His long, pale, black-hair-coated shin was in the forefront of the picture. The knee flopped wantonly towards the camera, making the patella the largest thing in the frame. His foot was out of shot. Beyond his leg, I could make out the right side of his torso – just – a small amount of lean waist, a hint at a taut set of ribs and a balled shoulder leading to what looked like a busy hand. I say busy, because he appeared to be jerking off, but of course, that could just be my filthy imagination. His head was thrown back, his chin jutted upwards, his prominent Adam’s apple in profile against the bottle-green wall behind him. Other than his chin, not one facial feature could be identified, but what I saw of his chin, chiselled and dented at the centre, led me to believe the rest of his face would be angular and long. Seedy shadows doused the whole image, the covers on the bed dusky green, almost brown, and the lighting, maybe shining through a cheap drawn curtain, was dim. He seemed completely uninhibited despite the camera, which I guessed was on a timer. I gulped down a bite of bile as a sudden wave of regret at the photo I’d sent him rolled through me. I’d thought I was being sassy, original, beating him at his own game. But it was clear now that I played with someone who knew how to think out of the box, stay a step ahead, out-manoeuvre me without even needing to try. The printer creaked to readiness and I hit the print button. I had to have his image in my hands, laser scanned, details ripe for scrutiny. As it whirred and heaved and slowly spat out the paper, I paced my office-cum-artist studio, frantically scratching the tops of my arms with my nails. Damn that picture of my right areola. Not that it was a bad areola or a bad picture, it wasn’t. I was perfectly pert and the pixel count excellent. I had even rubbed an ice cube around my tight nub, before pulling it to a painful point, then, as a final creative flair, shined a spotlight on it. The dark room and bright light had made my wet skin golden, my nipple a rosy pink. The round-tipped point was blood-filled, the flesh leading to it wrinkled in an ordered, twisted way, as it strained to seek out more stimulation. Damn that picture. His wasn’t exactly classy, but it was artistic, unique, risqué. Mine was just a token rude shot, though at least I’d resisted a shot of my newly shaved pussy. I would be in cringing hell right now if I’d followed through with that plan. The next question was, of course, would we meet? We’d had a deal – if we liked the look of one another we would make arrangements for a date, a face-to-face encounter. Although, judging by the dirty routes our conversations had taken lately, I reckoned there would be considerably more than just our faces meeting. At least that was what I hoped. So, my answer to ‘should we meet’ was a happy-dancing ‘yes’, my panties wet just from the sight of that bony shin and jauntily jutted head. The image of him alone, masturbating, thinking of me, possibly, had me so turned on my clit bobbed and my nipples were as tight as when they’d been treated to that ice cube. But what about him? Would he think me unimaginative, boring, dull? The trouble was with Liuz, he was so articulate, so self-assured, and despite his first language being Polish, his mastery of English was excellent. Not that mine isn’t too. I’m a journalist, studied at Canterbury, and I’m also an artist, but somehow he always seemed to second guess what I was saying, or going to say, in my emails. I held the newly printed-out photo in the air, the paper warm on my fingertips. I enjoyed having it A4 size, and peered closely. I could make out the dark shafts of his leg hairs winding out of his skin, the creases on the sheet below his body wrinkled like ripples in water. Perhaps, also, I could make out a burn of black-fuzzed hair coming down in front of his ear, but I couldn’t be sure. It could be more of the stubble that coated his neck. After retrieving a couple of drawing pins from a purple, sparkly pot on my desk, I hung Liuz’s image on my pin board, right in front of my desk. Where I could gorge on it; for when I looked at him, a fraction of the need, the burning want inside me, was sated. Taking a deep breath, I did what I had to do next – check my in-box. We’re in the same time zone now that I’m back from my business trip to the United States, so he could have possibly seen it already. Plus, as a general rule he was at his computer. I wasn’t sure exactly what he did, but he worked from home. Marketing he’d said, something about buying and selling stock. In-box. One new message. From him. I sucked in a breath and opened it. Those few seconds it took to process were absolute agony. ‘Your picture arrived.’ A rippling tightness in my guts had my belly tensing. Did he like it? Did he think I’d cheated by sending him so little to go on when he’d offered up so much? Given me such an honest picture that showed him vulnerable, a label I never would have given Liuz. Quickly, I typed a response. Typical me, I avoided the pressing point. ‘So did yours.’ ‘And what did you think?’ ‘I think you look like you are enjoying yourself.’ ‘Mmm, enjoying or just taking care of an urge? A necessary task, if you like.’ ‘So which was it?’ ‘Which would you rather it was?’ I hesitated for a moment, then decided to risk a knock-back. ‘I hope you were enjoying yourself. I hope you were thinking of me, imagining you were fucking me.’ I hit send and waited for a response. Nothing. One minute stretched into two. I stood and flung open the window to the autumn morning. Immediately, sounds of the city filtered up. Car horns, bus engines, the shouts of the workmen several buildings down. Another message. About bloody time. ‘I was thinking of you, but not about fucking you.’ ‘What then?’ ‘Ah, that’s for me to know and you to find out, Aniolku.’ I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth in frustration. He often did this, refused to answer something or turned it around on me. Also, if he knew he was playing coy, or being shifty, he’d nearly always add on ‘Aniolku’ at the end. I’d asked him what it meant a few weeks ago. He’d told me it was ‘angel’ in Polish. I’d laughed and said that surely by now he knew I was no angel. His reply was that was what made it such a perfect endearment for me. ‘Is that your bedroom?’ I asked, desperate to know more about the picture, and in turn, learn more about Liuz. ‘No, it’s my mate’s bedsit.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yeah, really.’ ‘Did he take the picture?’ ‘LOL, no, I was alone there. He just happens to have a nice camera.’ ‘Wouldn’t he mind you spunking out on his sheets?’ ‘I’m a big boy, I can control where I come. I’ve also heard of tissues.’ A rise of heat flushed over my chest, and I squirmed on the seat. Just the image of long, pearly jets of cum, spurting out onto that lean torso and dribbling into dark body hair, turned me on ridiculously. I could only imagine how his groans of pleasure would sound, how ragged his breaths would become, and what his sex-sweat would smell like, taste like. I wanted to know all of these things for real. I wanted to know every tiny morsel of information about Liuz more than anything else I’d ever wanted to know. There was an extended pause, then he typed, ‘Yours didn’t reveal much.’ ‘I thought the idea was not to give too much away.’ ‘You mean you were playing a game with me, and here was I thinking that we were just swapping honest photos of one another.’ ‘Yours is hardly a mantelpiece portrait.’ ‘Depends what else is on the mantelpiece.’ An image of his home came to my mind, created entirely in my imagination. He’d told me nothing other than that he lived in a mate’s bedsit in Brixton. Sharing or not, I wasn’t sure. But now, after seeing the photograph of his friend’s place, I visualised something painted in muted colours; moss green and muddy-puddle brown. Sparsely furnished with daylight penetrating curtains, bare bulbs. I don’t know why, but this image thrilled me so much more than the thought of a living space neat and ordered, pristine and thought-out. Liuz spent his time immersed in his work, head in his computer – well, either his work or indulging in teasing, flirting and sometimes downright rude talk with me – so I imagined his place would be functional rather than decorative. ‘OK, I should have given you more to go on,’ I typed back. ‘No worries, you have a nice tit. I can tell it would be a good handful and your nipple is perfectly suckable.’ I read that last line twice, and my areolas tingled deliciously at the thought of his mouth on me. Blood rushed to my entire breast, and my nipples pressed into my thin cotton bra. I circled my right nipple, the one on the photograph, over my clothes and allowed the stiffening sensation to bloom. ‘Would you like that?’ he replied before I could respond to his last email. ‘Yes.’ ‘What else would you like, Aniolku?’ ‘What else would you do?’ ‘You mean after I curled my tongue around your nipples, stroked my hands over your breasts and fed you deep into my mouth, pulling you in, devouring you, making you moan for more?’ ‘Yes, what else would you do?’ I had my hand inside my bra now, plucking and pulling at my nipple. I wished it was his hot mouth, hard and urgent, not gentle – rough and demanding was what I wanted, what I yearned for. ‘What would you want me to do?’ he asked. Damn him always throwing questions back at me. I closed my eyes. I had to write something. I knew him well enough by now to know he wouldn’t respond until I did. Once again an image flooded my mind. It was a lewd, sordid image of me, on my knees. A threadbare carpet beneath me and a bare light bulb above. I was naked, naked and submissive. Before me stood Liuz, tall, lean, golden-skinned, holding his cock towards my face. A beautiful cock, fat and generous in length, the glans engorged and the cleft below the head deep. I could see a drop of pre-cum nestled in the slit, and I could hear him telling me, ‘Lick it off, whore. Lick me, suck me. Do as I say.’ These images were new to me, sinfully wicked, and generated a well of guilt at what they suggested I really wanted, deep in my soul. But I couldn’t ignore them. Something about Liuz and the way he was with me had drawn rank thoughts and lusty needs to the surface; allowed them out to play, if only in my mind. It seemed they had moved in, for a while at least, and I couldn’t ignore them. I settled my fingertips over the keyboard and nibbled on my bottom lip as I wondered what to write. Nothing too crude, but something a little edgy. Eventually I settled on, ‘Next I want you to pretend my mouth is your hand. Do what you did to yourself in the picture.’ ‘You mean jerk into you hard and fast. I don’t wank like a delicate little flower, you know.’ ‘I can imagine.’ ‘I’d back you up against a wall and hold your head tight. Forge in and out without a thought for your breathing. After all, my hand doesn’t need to breathe, does it?’ My heart raced. ‘What else?’ ‘I wouldn’t give a shit about whether or not your gag reflex was killing you. I’d ram down your throat, enjoying the wet tightness. And I’d shout at you too.’ My fingers shook as I typed. ‘What would you shout?’ Lust screeched around my system. ‘That you had to suck harder, open wider, then when I was about to come I would shout at you to swallow, to keep swallowing until I told you to stop. I would keep ramming into you until my bollocks were drained and my cock started to soften.’ I stroked my clit through the gusset of my leggings and gave in to a few deep rotations. I knew I would have to masturbate soon. The need was building, a carnal pressure that would soon require release. One-handedly I replied, ‘OK.’ There was long pause, which allowed me to fret myself to an ass-clenching state of arousal; then he answered, ‘We should definitely meet.’ I’d sneaked my devilish fingers into my panties now, and the glossy pea that was my clitoris took a hard and fast beating. Once again, I typed ‘OK’ then, as I hit send, I arched my back, reared my hips off the seat and allowed a sharp climax to take control. I panted through the waves of pleasure. I squeezed my eyes shut and once again visualised Liuz before me, thrusting his dick into my mouth, over and over and over. Our meeting couldn’t come soon enough.
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More information can be found HERE
December 19, 2012
Seven Deadly Sins - an erotic anthology with illustrations
"Seven erotic tales from seven sinful sirens. The Seven Deadly Sins have never been so sexy!"
I am completely thrilled to be part of this excellent and unusual erotic anthology. All the stories, including mine, are illustrated by the fantastic John LaChatte. But please note, if you want to see the illustrations, you’ll have to buy a print copy, or grab your eBook copy from Waterstones, as most retailers don’t allow the images – as you can see, they’re very rude and this is the only one deemed acceptable for promotion...
Taken from The Sweetest Revenge by Lucy Felthouse
To find out a little more, here is the forward written by Kojo Black
Sometimes it can be so difficult to say no. It can be so much more gratifying to sate an urge than to deny it. And it can be so pleasurable to say yes to excess. Often, it is the most common excesses – Lust, Greed, Gluttony, Envy, Sloth, Pride and Wrath – that are the hardest to resist. And it is the unsolicited state of being human that makes each and every one of us so susceptible. As such, these excesses have become known as the Seven Deadly Sins.
As a devout chorister of kink, I was overjoyed to be able to explore these themes with seven salacious writers who are as prodigious as they are prodigal. The authors within these pages had no shame in confronting the Seven Deadly Sins and twisting them into the most gloriously carnal tales of temptation and desire – each sin brought beautifully to life by the illustrations of John LaChatte.
We invite you to nestle between these pages, to sin seven times in sweet succession, and to transgress most sensually and unrepentantly! The Seven Deadly Sins have never been so sexy!
Contents
Aphrodite Gets a Piece of the Action by K. D. GraceA young voyeur finds himself faced with the almighty task of going global with Lust!
Caged by Rebecca Bond Greed pushes a policewoman straight to the top. But her quest for power uncovers more desire than she ever knew she had!
Glutton to Gourmet by Victoria BlisseAnabel has never known when to say ‘when’. But the dashing Roman shows her that quality is just as delicious as quantity.
Green Eyed Monster by Lily HarlemPenis Envy takes on a whole new meaning when Helen hatches a plan to use her own “cock” to its fullest extent!
An Indolent Seduction by Lexie BayWhen the demon of Sloth sets his sights on the angel Industria, apathy becomes dangerously alluring.
The Sweetest Revenge by Lucy FelthouseAbigail’s crush on Mackenzie has made her do something stupid. Will Pride come before a fall…or cause them to fall in love?
Something Else by Sarah MastersA man’s Wrath at the loss of his lover sets him on a vengeful path that leads him through a seedy and sexually charged underworld.
Available from all good retailers including...
Amazon US
Amazon UK
eBook
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Waterstones
If you want to read the behind the scenes gossip about this book , how is was born and finally came to publication, visit my 7DS website page.
Have a great day,
Lily x
December 18, 2012
A Taste of Passion by Savannah Chase
Please welcome Savannah Chase to my blog today. She's chatting about her book, A Taste of Passion, and wow I love that cover! Take it away, Savannah...
I want to start off by saying thank you to Lily for letting me take over her blog today. It is a pleasure to be here at the place of such an amazing and talented author whose work I adore. Today I'm going to tell you a little bit about my latest release. Or I should say my re-release.
Taste of Passion came out November 30th from Rebel Ink Press. With this new version the re-release gave me the chance to go back and rework the story. Give these beautiful and sexy characters some new life. I felt inspired all over again with this story.
We as authors constantly grow each and every single day. Our writing evolves with every word, every book. Going back to this story gave me a glance at how much I've changed since it first came out. If you haven't had the chance to check out this yummy story I suggest you do...
Blurb
Bakery owner Valentine Benington’s day just went from the best of her life to the worst. Toronto Tribune reviewer, David Fraser, shows up for a review just after a fire comes close to destroying her kitchen. After David’s last assignment, which ended with food poisoning, it’s not the best of starts, especially since the job is a last-minute thing. He doesn’t expect to run into a woman from his past. First looks can be deceiving. The food isn’t the only thing on the menu he’d like to taste. When these two get baking, the flames from the oven aren’t the only thing setting the kitchen on fire.
Side note: This is a re-release of the previously published Taste Of Passion. The book has been re-edited and there have been significant changes made to the story. It is now 2x the original length.
Excerpt
“Yes, I’m still here,” she replied and covered her mouth with her sleeve trying to breathe.
She had to get herself and Sam out of there before it was too late. Just as she moved over to stand up, her phone crashed to the ground, splintering into pieces. The battery slid across the floor and landed somewhere under the sink as the other pieces scattered around her feet.
“Shit,” she groaned.
She wasn’t going to wait for help to arrive and there was no time to run to the front to call them back. Every second that ticked by meant that Sam wasn’t receiving the help he desperately needed. Plus, there was no way to breathe in here. She had to get them outside into the fresh air. They would suffocate if they stayed any longer.
Valentine grasped his arms, lifted them up, and with all the energy she held inside her, she started to pull his unconscious body across the floor toward the back entrance. Sam’s larger stature made it difficult for her and robbed her of energy as she pushed herself and dragged him. The smoke stung her eyes and her airway began to constrict as she felt short of breath. Damn it, she wasn’t going to stop, not now. Valentine inhaled her last breath and pushed through the discomfort and the overwhelming urge to stop. As fast and hard as she could, she shoved her body against the heavy metal door with a thud. Losing her footing, she released Sam and crashed onto the cold, hard ground. Her body hungered for fresh air and she gasped in each breath, filling her oxygen deprived lungs.
Everything happened so fast. One minute she walked into the shop and the next she was battling a fire that was consuming the contents of whatever was in and around the oven. She barely remembered doing anything, let alone dragging Sam out. Adrenaline and instinct kicked in and she got them outside on autopilot.
Buy Links
Amazon.com
All Romance Ebook
B & N
Amazon UK
Amazon Spain
Amazon Japan
Amazon Italy
Amazon France
Bookstrand.com
Amazon Canada
I want to start off by saying thank you to Lily for letting me take over her blog today. It is a pleasure to be here at the place of such an amazing and talented author whose work I adore. Today I'm going to tell you a little bit about my latest release. Or I should say my re-release.
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Taste of Passion came out November 30th from Rebel Ink Press. With this new version the re-release gave me the chance to go back and rework the story. Give these beautiful and sexy characters some new life. I felt inspired all over again with this story.
We as authors constantly grow each and every single day. Our writing evolves with every word, every book. Going back to this story gave me a glance at how much I've changed since it first came out. If you haven't had the chance to check out this yummy story I suggest you do...
Blurb
Bakery owner Valentine Benington’s day just went from the best of her life to the worst. Toronto Tribune reviewer, David Fraser, shows up for a review just after a fire comes close to destroying her kitchen. After David’s last assignment, which ended with food poisoning, it’s not the best of starts, especially since the job is a last-minute thing. He doesn’t expect to run into a woman from his past. First looks can be deceiving. The food isn’t the only thing on the menu he’d like to taste. When these two get baking, the flames from the oven aren’t the only thing setting the kitchen on fire.
Side note: This is a re-release of the previously published Taste Of Passion. The book has been re-edited and there have been significant changes made to the story. It is now 2x the original length.
Excerpt
“Yes, I’m still here,” she replied and covered her mouth with her sleeve trying to breathe.
She had to get herself and Sam out of there before it was too late. Just as she moved over to stand up, her phone crashed to the ground, splintering into pieces. The battery slid across the floor and landed somewhere under the sink as the other pieces scattered around her feet.
“Shit,” she groaned.
She wasn’t going to wait for help to arrive and there was no time to run to the front to call them back. Every second that ticked by meant that Sam wasn’t receiving the help he desperately needed. Plus, there was no way to breathe in here. She had to get them outside into the fresh air. They would suffocate if they stayed any longer.
Valentine grasped his arms, lifted them up, and with all the energy she held inside her, she started to pull his unconscious body across the floor toward the back entrance. Sam’s larger stature made it difficult for her and robbed her of energy as she pushed herself and dragged him. The smoke stung her eyes and her airway began to constrict as she felt short of breath. Damn it, she wasn’t going to stop, not now. Valentine inhaled her last breath and pushed through the discomfort and the overwhelming urge to stop. As fast and hard as she could, she shoved her body against the heavy metal door with a thud. Losing her footing, she released Sam and crashed onto the cold, hard ground. Her body hungered for fresh air and she gasped in each breath, filling her oxygen deprived lungs.
Everything happened so fast. One minute she walked into the shop and the next she was battling a fire that was consuming the contents of whatever was in and around the oven. She barely remembered doing anything, let alone dragging Sam out. Adrenaline and instinct kicked in and she got them outside on autopilot.
Buy Links
Amazon.com
All Romance Ebook
B & N
Amazon UK
Amazon Spain
Amazon Japan
Amazon Italy
Amazon France
Bookstrand.com
Amazon Canada
