First, thank you to everyone who purchased Frannie and The Private Dick! If you haven’t already done so, NOW’S THE TIME, because very shortly I will be raising the price to where it really belongs for the length of work it is. But thank you, you early purchasers. We writers don’t just appreciate kind words written in reviews, we appreciate you spending money for our stories, so that we can continue to afford to spend our time writing more stories. It’s just a vicious circle! 🙂
By the way, what do you think of that title? My daughter thinks I sometimes go too far—to which I reply, “Is there such a thing?” Maybe. I have a title for this smutty little office-sex-slave short-story series that might be too much. It will be coming after I finish all the “With His…” stepbrother stories.
For the Stepbrothers Stepping Out, so far I’ve done:
Right now, I’m writing With His Friends and I already have a sexy cover for With His Team. And then, I’m out of “With His…” titles.
Unless… You have suggestions…
One lucky titler (yes, a made up word!) will win a small Amazon gift card!
Have fun! ~DD
*~*~*
And while you’re thinking, here’s a little taste of With His Professor…
With my brother Darien’s paper crushed in my hand, I marched down the dimly lit hallway of the English Department, heedless of the fact I hadn’t changed after work. My four-inch heels clicked on the tiled floor like mini hammers.
From the moment he’d sat across from me in the club, his shoulders slumping and his expression dejected, I’d been alerted something was seriously wrong. Darien hadn’t wanted to worry me. Didn’t I have enough on my shoulders, supporting us both while he finished his degree? When I’d finally wormed the source of his distress out of him, I’d seen red.
I’d stared at the paper—recognizing the terse handwriting telling my brother that his work wasn’t good enough. The 57 points the professor had given him meant my brother would have to repeat the class, which he’d needed to pass because it was a prerequisite for another. And now, his graduation date was at risk.
Not without a fight. And since Darien was the quiet one, it was up to me to confront Professor Allcock.
“Don’t you want to change first?” my brother had asked, eyeing my costume.
“Does he still stay in his office until nine to see students?”
“Yes, but—”
“It’s eight-fifteen. No fucking time left for me to change.” I slid across the vinyl seat and reached for my furry coat. It only reached to the top of my hips, but the skirt of this particular costume at least covered my ass. “Can you walk home?”
He slid the keys across the table. “I should go with you.”
“You have a chem test to study for.” I bent and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth. “Dare, I’ve got this.”
I’ve got this. The adrenaline that had fueled my drive here fizzled. My steps slowed. I glanced up and down the hallway, then reached for the hem that peeked from beneath my coat and tugged it lower.
Good lord, I was walking into his office wearing pasties and a tear-away skirt. Standing in front of his door, I paused. The smells were the same—floor wax, polish, old books. His door was exactly the same thick wooden door. I’d spent several sessions in his office during my very short college career, begging for second chances, for him not to give me a bad grade because my dad would kill me.
I’d even opened my blouse, thinking I might be able to bribe him with a peek…or more.
Would he even remember? As handsome as he was, he probably had more coeds flashing their tits and asses than a construction worker on payday in a tittie bar—which was where I now worked. And I was the one flashing the dude with concrete dust in his hair and grime beneath his nails, hoping he’d ask me for a lap dance because I needed the money.
My hands fell to my sides. What could I say that would change his mind? Back when I’d been the student, unbuttoning my blouse had only gotten me shoved out his door with a stern reprimand. I glanced down at the paper I held again. I wasn’t here to beg for me. I was here to beg for my brother, for our future.
I raised my hand, preparing to knock when the door swung open. Caught by surprise, I blinked and stepped backward. The young man coming out of the door gaped at me, his gaze sweeping the expanse of my legs, my overly made up face. “Professor, you have another…student?”
I edged around him, getting through the door, then held the knob, waiting for him to move out of the doorway. At last, he shook himself and grinned. “Delta Zeta, right? Damn, girl. I’ll see you at the kegger.”
I took a deep breath and slowly turned to face Professor Allcock. I’d hoped he’d gone bald. Grown a gut. My heart fluttered in my chest as I stared across at the man I’d crushed on when I’d been a student here.
“Can I help you?” he asked in his deliberate way—softly spoken, but clearly enunciated. I’d always wondered if he’d commanded his women to bend over and take it in exactly that tone of voice.
I took a deep breath and raised the hand that still clutched Darien’s paper. “I’ve come to talk to you about this,” I said, my voice sounding uncertain, even to me. Which pissed me off. I tilted up my chin, and strode toward his desk, depositing the paper in the center.
He sat back, his gaze going to the crumpled sheets. “This is Darien Koslow’s paper. Why are you concerned?”
“I’m his sister.”
“And he has you to fight his battles?”
“He’s not…into confrontation.”
“And you are?” His eyebrow rose, and his gaze skimmed my thick coat and thin, short skirt.
“It’s a division of labor,” I muttered.
His gaze narrowed on my face. “Do I know you?”
Something about the way he said it, like he’d never in a million years know a piece of trash like me, fired my blood. “You might remember these,” I said, and tore open my coat, flashing him my boobs with the sequined stickers covering my nipples.
“Ah. Yes,” he said. “Miriam White. You were in my class…five years ago?”
“Four,” I said, slowly closing my coat. So, he didn’t quite remember my face, but he remembered my boobs? “I had to drop out.”
“A death in the family, I recall.”
“Two deaths. My father, Darien’s mother.”
“He’s your stepbrother? Half?”
“Step,” I said, beginning to shake because my anger once again was beginning to retreat, and I was tired and my brother was about to fail this class, and I couldn’t fix this. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“Have a seat, Miriam,” he said then tapped the paper. “Let’s talk about this.”
“You don’t give second chances. I remember that.”
“And I remember you. It was early in the semester. Still time for you to turn around your grade. But you wanted a quick fix.”
“You told me to read the damn book.”
His mouth twisted then straightened into a firm line. “What did you come to ask me for tonight?”
“I wanted you to let Darien resubmit the paper. He’ll do better. I promise.”
His gaze remained narrowed on my face.
I felt a blush creep across my cheeks.
“I have to ask…”
“Yeah, I’m a stripper.”
“Not what I was going to ask, but good to know. I was disappointed when you didn’t reenroll after your parents’ deaths.”
“My priorities changed,” I said, glancing at his bookcase, his diploma-covered walls, anywhere but at his all-too-keen eyes.
“I might be inclined to give your brother a second chance…”
My gaze shot back to him. “Really?” I sucked in a quick breath then stilled.
Some of you might have new eReaders ready to gobble up some books! Let me help you out with that! Just click on the cover to pick up your free copy of Conquests: An Anthology of Smoldering Viking Romance today!
Vikings. Fierce warriors who terrified all in their path as they raided and marauded, enslaved and murdered during Europe’s Dark Ages.
But these rough men from a rugged land were also sailors, explorers, craftsmen, and highly sought after mercenaries.
Conquests: An Anthology of Smoldering Viking Romance will transport you to the realm of fantasy where such fearsome and loyal men are relentless potent lovers. Whether the lady of the keep demands a few stolen hours of pleasure with a captured Viking warrior or the handsome Northman is the one seducing his captive, you will find plenty of lusty adventures in settings as far-flung as Ireland, Iceland, Norway, Byzantium, Moorish Spain and the New World.
Let your fantasies run wild to a time when men wearing bearskin shirts and shining iron helms could capture a fierce maiden’s heart!
The Captive by Lizzie Ashworth – A captive turns captor when the lady of an English keep commands a few stolen hours of pleasure with a captured Viking warrior
Ásgeirr and the Tree of Life by Mina Murray – Danger and desire collide when a wounded Viking warrior washes ashore on a remote Irish island
A Varangian Guest by Melissa Fuchs – When her brother returns to Constantinople in the company of a warrior from the far north, a widow finds herself drawn to him with irresistible desire
How to Train Your Skjaldmaer by Delilah Devlin – A Viking jarl tricked into marrying a shieldmaiden sets out to tame his fiery bride
The Viking’s Prize by Emma Jay – Treachery and desire greet a Viking warrior who travels to the coast of Newfoundland to broker peace with the indigenous tribes
There for the Taking by Nym Nix – A captive is seduced by her Viking captor as he couples with an amorous shieldmaiden whilst she is left to watch
Sweet Silk by Megan Mitcham – A Viking returns to Persia years after saving a merchant from certain death to retrieve the child-bride awarded him–yet never claimed
Little Warrior by Evey Brett – A woman braves a pair of daunting shieldmaidens and her father’s wrath in order to take her sister’s place as bride to a Viking warrior
Protecting Her by Regina Kammer – A Byzantine noblewoman seeking refuge in a monastery loses her heart to an invader when Constantinople is sacked by the Rus
Enslaved by Elle James – A conquering Viking vows to tame his sassy Celtic slave–if she doesn’t kill him first
The Oak and the Ale by Beatrix Ellroy – A businesswoman trying to secure trade routes for her family instead finds love with a crippled warrior
New Words by Teresa Noelle Roberts – An Andalusian Arab poet learns that her new Northman husband is more than just a handsome barbarian
The Needle and the Strap by Bibi Rizer – A young man hasn’t lived up to the Viking standards of his brave and ruthless kinsmen–until he rescues a wild and wicked shieldmaiden from a burning ship
*~*~*~*
And if you didn’t know, I have another short story, newly released…
A Dominant policewoman, fresh from the mean city streets, finds her perfect match in a curvy small-town, bicycle cop…
Enjoy! And I hope your holiday continues, that Santa was very good to you, and that everyone is safe and happy!
I’ll assume that y’all already know that book #4 in the Night Fall series released yesterday. I hope you love it! And there are more stories coming in the series—Knight Edition and Night Fall on Dark Mountain, and more stories beyond the six I’m revising and re-releasing. The first story I’ll tackle after book #6 will be the mysterious Viper’s story. I left him in a bit of pickle for far too long…
In the meantime, I’m still writing shorties—because I have to! When I’m between stories and feeling like I just don’t have the energy to start another longer project, writing a shorty gives me a kind of creative break. I hope you’ll give them a try.
Today, I uploaded a short story I wrote on Monday (yes, I can write one of these in one or two days!). It’s my latest Stepbrothers Stepping Out short story. So, you know it’s super naughty. It involves a little sexual blackmail, BDSM, voyeurism, menage… And I managed all that in just 6700 words. 🙂 As soon as it’s live, I’ll post the link here. Be watching for it!
As for the contest, the question I’d like answered is in the subject line of this blog!I’ll choose one winner. The prize will be the winner’s choice of any of the stories on the shorties carousel below!
Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Boss
“Would you come inside my office, Zoe?”
I’d have recognized that smooth whiskey voice anywhere. My nerves jangled and my breath hitched. I picked up my notepad and a pen and stood, smoothing down the sides of my knee-length skirt. Then I walked to his door and let myself in. His office was huge. Two monitors sat atop his desk, to the side, giving me a view of his upper body and thick dark hair. He was looking downward at an open file.
I took a deep breath to calm myself and strode toward his desk. “Mr. Patterson—”
“Trace, seeing as you had sex in my pool.”
My jaw dropped. His head lifted and his dark gaze narrowed on my expression. Heat filled my cheeks, and I wondered if I was about to be fired.
He waved a hand at the chair pulled close to the front of his desk, and I sat, landing a little hard because my knees gave out.
“Nothing to say?” he said, his voice low and cool.
“I apologize. I hope you won’t think less of Grayson. It was all my idea.”
“I know.” His head canted to the side, and his gaze moved from my face to my white blouse and lower. “Would you like to know how I know?”
Because I didn’t know what the right answer might be, I nodded.
He turned one of the monitors toward me. In the center was a video frame.
With the touch of a button, I watched as I stepped behind the falls, took a seat and then began to strip off my underwear. The resolution was terrific. So good, I could see my taut nipples. Then Grayson arrived and the footage continued to play.
Until that moment, I didn’t realize just how good Gray and I looked together. Neither of us made horrible faces when we made love. The muscles of his broad shoulders flexed, as did those of his buttocks. His pace was quite athletic.
I watched as I pleasured myself , tonguing my own nipples. Watched Grayson watching me, his blue gaze darkening as it trailed down my breasts to my quickly toggling finger.
The video stopped, and I realized not only was my face flushed, but my entire body was hot. I’d grown aroused.
And from the dark glint in Trace’s brown eyes, he knew it.
I swallowed hard then cleared my throat. “I can’t have been the first guest to fuck in your pool.” I nearly died, my tongue getting in front of my brain. I’d never been able to curb it. Especially when I was angry.
The corners of his mouth twitched, then his lips settled into a firm, straight line. “You’re very new. I’ve been looking over your personnel file.”
My gaze darted to the folder. “I know I don’t have much of a resume. Frankly, I was surprised when your company hired me.”
“I like young employees , love the energy,” he said, his voice smooth but not giving a hint of what he was really thinking. “They bring fresh ideas. And I like setting them free to become who they are meant to be.”
I nearly rolled my eyes at that bit of metaphysical crap, but managed to keep my gaze fixed on him. That wasn’t so hard. His strong featured-face was very striking. Not pretty in the least. Overtly masculine. Again, heat flared, settling in my belly. I shifted in my seat. “You aren’t exactly decrepit yourself.”
He flashed a quick smile then gave me another sharp stare. “I like employees who take risks. Who are open to new ideas.”
“I’m just a secretary. I’m not going to redesign a computer operating system.” Good lord, would I ever shut up?
He tapped his finger against the top of his desk. “Tell me about your… brother.”
*~*~*
I know I’m a terrible tease. Just when you were getting to the good part…
Anyways… It’s brand new. Something you can read, in its entirety, while you’re waiting in the doctor’s office, during your lunch break, or right before bed. A smutty little bit of pleasure. And there’s more below!
To see more of my currently available short stories, check out this page: Short Stories
A reader posted a review on Amazon the other day, and I really liked what she had to say…
“It’s not every author who can bring forth a short story and leave a lasting impression on me. With Hotter With a Pole, not only was I left satisfied with the content, but I was also impressed by the range of emotions and the overall story.”
Hotter With a Pole is over 20,000 words, so I’m assuming she mostly reads full-length stories or at the very least category-length (think of some of Harlequin’s shorter series). 20,000 words is as long as I like to write, although I know most readers thirst for longer. Some writers can write long with ease, and maybe a lot of deep angsting, but I write romances the way I’ve experienced them—hot and fast. After all, the old advice to a writer is “Write what you know”. And it does take skill to cram a full story into fewer words.
So today, I just wanted to remind you of all the truly short stories I have published. If ever you’re in need of something lightning fast while you’re waiting at the doctor’s office or as little something right before you go to bed, you might check these out. Many are in the Kindle Unlimited store for free for you KU subscribers. All are only $0.99 for everyone else.
Enjoy the short-short shorty I have posted below. Sometimes a tease is all you need. 🙂
All About Me
I awoke slowly, enjoying the pleasant tingling that calluses left on my belly. A man’s rough hands smoothed over me.
It wasn’t every day that I woke with someone else sharing my bed. My heart skipped a beat. And then I remembered. Craig. That was his name. I was in bed with a stranger named Craig.
Daylight teased the edges of my eyelids, but I squeezed them shut again, not ready yet to end the bliss. I could pretend for at least a couple of moments longer that we meant more to each other than just a heat of the moment fling.
Still, he’d stayed the night, and the heaviness of the cock poking at my backside telegraphed the fact he wasn’t in any hurry to leave.
A kiss touched the corner of my neck.
“You awake?” he growled then licked the bottom edge of my ear lobe.
“Not yet. Do that some more,” I mumbled.
His chuckle was warm, wicked.
I stretched my legs then snuggled my butt closer to his erection. “I’m awake enough,” I whispered.
“And I’m interested, as you can tell,” he murmured. “But you owe me something first.”
I groaned and pushed my face into the pillow, wanting to hide because he’d risen on an elbow and was pushing my hair behind my ear to peer at me.
He cupped a breast, thumbing the nipple. “You promised.”
“I wasn’t in my right mind.”
“Coward.”
I whimpered, and then turned onto my back to meet his gaze. “Why don’t you go first?”
He shook his head, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “Now, see? That’s not what I want. And you said I could have anything I wanted if I made you come.”
I snorted. “How do know you I didn’t fake it?”
A sexy grin stretched across his face. “Baby, you came so hard you peed on me.”
His soft laughter made my cheeks burn. I narrowed my eyes. “And to think Bev said you were a nice guy.”
His eyebrows gave a waggle. “Not too nice. And aren’t you glad? Besides, you’re cute when you get embarrassed.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Didn’t seem to bother you a bit.”
“Why should it? I like you wet.” He came over me, sighing as he settled between my legs.
“What else do you like?” I asked, running my fingertips lightly up his back.
He dipped his head and bit my ear. “You’re stalling.”
His breath tickled my neck and I raised my shoulder. “Why not just fuck me?”
“Because this’ll be more intimate.”
“More so than fucking?”
His cheek glided up and down against my neck as he nodded.
I rolled my eyes, thinking hard, or at least as hard as I could with his cock sliding up and down between my folds. “Can I do it faced away?” I gasped.
“What do you think?” Abruptly, he pushed up then knelt between my thighs. “Need pillows?”
“Don’t be helpful,” I groused.
“You really don’t like this.”
I felt like screaming my frustration. He was right there. I was open. Eager. And yet, he sat watching, his expression firming into that hard mask that had made me tear at my clothes the moment he’d closed the bedroom door. “I might like this better if we were in the middle of something, but like this it feels—”
“Dirty?”
I nodded. At last, he understood. Now maybe he’d move closer.
“Do you know what attracted me to you first?”
I blinked at his segue.
“How bold you are.”
Liar. However, I didn’t mind that he goaded me. His needling challenges had led us to this bed. Something I couldn’t regret.
His hands soothed up and down my inner thighs and his gaze dropped to my sex. But the exposure—my pussy to daylight—wasn’t quite so embarrassing because he was arranging me again, lifting my knees, placing my heels just so. Like he was creating a picture for his pleasure. Then he laid his palms against my inner thighs and opened me further.
He could see right inside me. A blush swept my skin, cheeks to breasts.
His nostrils flared as he gazed down. I was happier than I ever would have admitted when he’d allowed me to bathe after my “accident”—then relieved that he’d changed the sheets while I’d cowered in the shower. He hadn’t let me hide there for long, jerking back the curtain and joining me there to “wash” his dick inside me.
My modesty lay in shreds. Oddly, this engendered a feeling of deep, fierce elation. I’d never been with anyone like him. Someone who could make me laugh one moment, then shiver with anticipation with just a single, commanding glare.
I didn’t know him well enough to trust him. And yet, I was thrilled he was here even if he was busy staring at my intimate parts. “You just gonna look?”
“I’m waiting.”
Fuck. He expected me to keep that promise. The one I’d given when he was laughing, holding me against him when we were both so wet, and I’d been desperate for a little privacy to groan at my lack of self control.
“I’m still waiting.”
The texture of his voice, so firm, excited me. I couldn’t get my head wrapped around the idea of how much I wanted him. Or that I needed him to be in charge. Of me.
From the first moment we’d been introduced at dinner by friends, I’d been caught.
All it had taken was one long, challenging look from his dark blue eyes and I’d felt instantly aroused, and then annoyed with myself because I wanted him and he knew it.
Just like he knew it now.
His fingers trailed from my clit straight into my slick folds. He swirled in moisture then licked his fingers, all the while holding my gaze. “Anytime, Heather.”
“This’ll be quick,” I muttered, blushing again.
“Fast, slow—I don’t care. But you have to come.”
“And you think you’ll know?”
He canted his head. “I know the look.”
“I have a look?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Can I close my eyes?”
One dark brow arched.
I shook my head. “I didn’t know you were such a control freak.”
“Yeah, you did,” he said softly. “Start wherever you want.”
I swallowed, knowing I was through stalling because I was horribly aroused. I cupped my breasts, hoping that watching me would entice him to join in and end this. He’d said he liked my breasts, and the tips were sore from where he’d played endlessly—licking, flicking, sucking, biting…
My nipples hardened and I plucked and twisted them, pulling then letting them go to jiggle my breasts.
But he remained still, watching, with his hands on his knees as he knelt between my spread thighs.
What the hell? Why did I care that he watched? His intense stare and the color darkening his face said he was into it. That I was turning him on. His cock pulsed, jutting from his groin, hard and thick.
My hands smoothed down my belly; fingertips scraped through the short blonde hair on my mound. I used one hand to spread my folds, the other to tease my clit, swirling on the knot until it grew harder and stretched the hood, causing it to slide away.
Then I thrust two fingers into my pussy, curving my hips to deepen my reach. I let go of my folds and slid a hand beneath my ass, teasing my perineum while I thrust my fingers deeper and twisted them.
Wetness oozed from inside me, soaking my hand, slipping lower to trickle toward my asshole. And because his breathing was becoming louder, raspier, I dared more—using the moisture to wet a fingertip and stick it in my ass.
“Sure you don’t want some of this?” I asked, my voice husky. I lifted my legs and curled my abdomen, the muscles of my belly burning to hold the cramped position, but now I could stroke both holes deeper and he could see everything I did.
My thumb twiddled my clit while I fucked myself. I tucked another finger inside my ass and gave up trying to look pretty, trying not to make faces or unattractive noises, and just let go. My orgasm bloomed, and my face screwed up into that expression, the one he knew meant I was coming—and I flew. My cry was soft and floated away.
Hands slipped over my knees to ease them down. I blinked, only just realizing I’d closed my eyes there at the end.
Craig came over me, waiting as I slowly pulled my fingers from inside me. Then he fit his cock to my entrance and thrust deep into the moist, hot center of me.
We rocked together, me clutching his back, him growling as he thrust faster and harder. Another quick flash burn of pleasure swept me. He shouted, sharpening his shortened thrusts—until he made the face I knew meant he’d found his own orgasmic bliss.
I smiled, damn near purring as his breaths evened out. “You owe me now.”
He grunted. “Think I’ll mind you watching me jerk off?”
“You’ll mind, because I get to say when you can come.”
He blinked then barked a laugh. “You do know it’s going to take me a little while.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I, on the other hand, suffer no such handicap.” I reached up and gripped his ears, then tugged him downward, showing him exactly how he could pass the time.
I’m late posting this today. I’m relaxing a bit. So far, I ate breakfast, went for a swim, took a shower… I’ve been looking through emails trying to catch up. I hope to write new words later today…
Conquests was a labor intensive effort to get produced. Now, it’s out there, and I can’t wait to see what people think. I’ve done collections before (see my Collections website), selecting the stories and doing the first round edits, but then I had the luxury of throwing it over the fence to the publisher to handle “the rest.” This time, I had to arrange the intensive editing, the promotion, the corralling of authors to help with getting the word out. They also helped with the art work, the blurb, etc. It was a true group effort! I hope all goes well, because I’d love to do more of them—be it for other publishers or on my own.
Next up will be the tentatively titled Rogue Hearts…
Conquests begs the question, is there a market still for erotic anthologies of short stories? I’d love to hear your opinions. From my perspective as a reader, I gravitate toward shorter fiction because 1) I have very limited reading time, and 2) I appreciate the skill it takes to condense a complete story into a shorter format. Of course, I’ve been doing the latter for several years now, so I know I’m biased! 🙂
I’d love to do more historical anthologies—medieval knights and Ancient warriors—and of course, more iconic contemporary heroes—more cowboys, Spec Ops dudes, etc. Is there anything you’re eager to see? I’d like to do one or two collections every year (it’s all I have time for given my writing schedule).
If you’d like to chat with the authors who contributed to this book, go like our Facebook page at: Conquests: Viking Romance. We’re busy planning events to tempt you to play. And again, there will be prizes involved, so I know you don’t want to miss that either.
And in the meantime, you can pre-order our book. Right now, it’s just $0.99—but that price won’t last! Here’s the link: Conquests
And if you’d like to read excerpts from the stories inside Conquests, head to our blog: Conquests Blog
You probably already know what inspired the title of my story, “How to Train Your Skjaldmaer.”
Yeah, I’m a big fan of the movie. I think I’ve watched it a dozen times with the kids. I never mind when they beg to see it one more time.
So, when I was trying to come up with a title for my story in Conquests, the phrase “how to train…” kept banging around. Add that to my love of stories about Viking shieldmaidens, who were female warriors who fought alongside the men, and there you have it.
I loved my story from the first scene when my hero, who has come to retrieve his bride, first sees his wife. Enjoy!
*~*~*~*~*
How to Train Your Skjaldmaer
A Viking jarl tricked into marrying a shieldmaiden
sets out to tame his fiery bride
Norway, 924 AD
“That creature is a Jarl’s daughter?” Left unsaid in Lothar’s wide gaze was the fact she would also be Torvald’s wife.
Given the sight that beheld their eyes, Torvald might have felt it unfair to chastise his companion, but he couldn’t overlook the disrespect. So he jerked his elbow backward and up, neatly breaking Lothar’s nose. While the man groaned and bent at the waist to keep the blood streaming toward the rushes covering the rough dirt floor, Torvald stepped deeper into the taproom.
The brawl was well underway. His bride seemed to have things well in hand. Something that might have amused him in his younger days, but he had a position to uphold and ambitions beyond his own jarldom. Bringing back such a wife to his holdings could prove a hindrance to his plans.
Not that she wasn’t a handsome woman. Beneath the dirt on her cheeks and the blood smeared on her chin, her face was nicely formed and her eyes a direct and chilling blue. Her hair was such a pale shade as to be nearly white, and so thick it escaped her braids to fly about her back and buttocks like a wild mare’s mane. And she had surprising strength and stamina in her tall robust frame, which admittedly intrigued him.
As he watched, she turned sideways, gripped the edge of a table, and flipped over it, planting her feet in the center of a large, brutish man’s belly to topple him. The man went down with a roar then kicked out his feet, pulling himself to stand in a single, astonishingly graceful motion.
His bride glanced up the big man’s frame then planted both fists on her hips in a fearless stance. “I tipped a bull once. He thrashed a bit, but didn’t get back to his feet nearly as quickly as you.”
Her words were brusque but admiring, and her expression gave away her cheeky lack of contrition.
The red-headed brute glanced down at her, nostrils flaring, his cheeks so flushed Torvald feared he’d pop a vein—and then suddenly, he tossed back his head and laughed.
The sound was large and loud inside the small, ale-saturated room. He clamped his arm around the woman’s shoulders and turned her toward the bar. “Mead for the lady,” he roared.
The brawl ended in an instant. Laughter and loud claps to shoulders filled the room.
Lothar sidled up beside Torvald, a cloth pressed to his nose as he stared through bruised and swelling eyes. “Will you break something else if I say she’s not exactly the woman Hagar promised?”
Torvald blew out a breath and nodded. “It can’t be the same woman. A sister, perhaps.”
Hagar, the chieftain of the neighboring jarldom, had promised a girl so fair roses blushed in dismay. A woman as slender as a reed, as graceful as a soaring falcon, with hair as dark as midnight, skin as pale as snow.
This harridan’s tall angular frame and blonde hair were the exact opposite of what he’d been promised, and her ruddy complexion was berry brown from exposure to the sun and weather.
“Is it a trick to save his treasure for a higher bidder for the beauty’s hand? This one’s more skjaldmær—shieldmaiden—than bride.”
“I don’t know, but this…” Torvald said, pointing toward the sturdy figure dressed in a man’s breeches and kyrtill wasn’t an acceptable trade. “This will never do.” No matter that she appeared strong and would likely birth warriors full-grown. She’d never stand up to the scrutiny a future queen would face.
Taking a deep breath, he indicated to Lothar to watch the door and strode toward the woman who’d raised a full horn of mead and drank it like water. He tapped her shoulder.
Her gaze swung toward him, a scowl digging a crease between her cold blue eyes.
“Are you Solveig, Hagar’s daughter?”
She set down her empty horn with a thump. “And who is asking?”
The question will be: What is your favorite taboo theme in erotica?
Before I can run the poll, I’d like a better list than I can think up off the top of my head. I know stepbrother stories are pretty hot right now, but what else is out there that you’d like to see people vote on? And yeah, I’m hoping the list will provide me some inspiration for what I want to write in the future.
So, you have today’s question:
What would you like me to add to the poll list (which I will run on Saturday!)?
And in the meantime, I will be uploading the story below today, so it should release (hopefully) sometime tonight or tomorrow. Take a peak! This is one of the hottest things I’ve written in a while—and you know that’s saying a lot!
Oh! And I’ll be sending out a newsletter shortly. If you’re not a subscriber to my newsletter list—click on this link: Newsletter
Lily’s Last Stand
A wife gives her husband a sexy surprise…and then he ups the ante…
Note: This 7800-word short story was previously published in Strokes, Vol. 1, but has been revised and expanded to more than double its original length. It may be short in length, but it’s not short in passion!
She didn’t dare look at Brent. He’d see how tight her features were and guess just how turned on she was. Not just because he was watching. She couldn’t wait to get her mouth around Lou’s cock.
Reaching out a hand, she cupped his balls and fondled them, rolling them in her palm, then tugging them gently. His cock jerked, his breath hitched. When she leaned forward to lick his velvet sack, he groaned.
Lily opened her mouth and took both balls inside, lavishing them with strokes of her tongue while she sucked. When she released him, she made of show of licking her palms then gripped his shaft and began to pump.
Rising higher on her knees, she angled his cock and brought it to her lips. She kissed the head, leaving a smudge of red, then swirled her tongue over the arrow cap, pausing to tease the narrow slit before paying attention to the lipped edge.
When his hands settled on her head and began to grip her hair, she opened wider and slid her mouth over his cock, sinking on his shaft while she began to twist her hands on his length. Sucking harder and harder, she bobbed forward and back, sinking by inches and leaving paler and paler rings around his cock. When his dick butted the back her throat, she swallowed, liking the way his knees snapped to hug her. When she eased open her throat and went all the way to the root, he gave a muffled cry.
His fist pulled on her hair. “Ease off, Lily.”
She murmured, gave a slight shake of her head, and dove down again.
“Brent!” Lou said, his voice thick and tight.
“She’s worked for it,” Brent murmured. “Give her what she deserves.”
“Ah!”
Lou’s cock tightened and cum spurted down her throat, just once, and she came off him, milking his shaft and letting the thick, burbling cream stripe her chest and face. When she gripped him just below the head, she gave him one last squeeze, milking the last drop, which she used to paint her mouth.
A tsking sounded from her right. She turned her head to Brent, whose expression was hard. So was his cock, which he’d ringed at the base.
With my brother Darien’s paper crushed in my hand, I marched down the dimly lit hallway of the English Department, heedless of the fact I hadn’t changed after work. My four-inch heels clicked on the tiled floor like mini hammers.
