“Oh, really? What other parts?”
“Would you like me to show you?”
“I command it,” she replied playfully. “I am, after all, your wife.”
Black Bear sighed with mock resignation. “Very well, then.” And with that, he unfastened his leather breeches and they dropped to the floor, pooling around his ankles. Out sprang his massive manhood, erect, powerful, amazing.
“That’s exactly how I remembered it, in my dreams.”
“I know.” He clambered onto the bed between her outstretched legs and gently eased her knees further apart. He kneeled at her v and inhaled the fragrant aroma.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Using all my senses.” He eased his long fingers inside her, massaging, kneading, tickling her labia, her cunt, as she inhaled deeply, moaned under her breath, and dropped her head back against the pillow. She closed her eyes as he worked his magic.
Black Bear, with a groan, plunged his thick cock deep inside her cunt. As he filled her up, filled her up to her core, she roared with an animal-like cry, then thrust her hips against his, arching her back, digging her fingers deep into his skin, as together their bodies flowed down a smoothly streaming river of passion.
With the quivering flesh of her husband’s cock strafing along her cunt, Rose Red’s crisis soon overwhelmed her, the exhilaration and the release bitterly sweet because of all she’d gone through to reach this moment. She threw her head back and howled out her reserves of pain and anguish.
As her sorrow receded, she watched in blissful amazement as Black Bear continued to thrust deep inside her cunt. She felt his cock releasing his seed as his entire body quivered, and then he collapsed against her with a satisfied sigh. Rolling onto his back, he eased her beside him so that she snuggled against his chest.
She felt so filled up, filled up with his seed and with his love. She didn’t know that such contentment could be possible. She felt filled up with this wonderful new life, as a rose blooms at the first hint of the sun’s basking glow in the springtime.
She was that new rose.
* * *
About the author:
Gwen Williams grew up loving to read. You can write to Gwen at [email protected]. Visit her website at www.gwenwilliams.net.
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Bonus Pages!
Keep Reading for Sneak Peeks at Two Stories You Might also Like!
Plus a Special Interview with Fan Favorite Author Alice Gaines!
And Alice’s Special Cincinnati Chili Recipe!
Do You Believe in Fairy Tales?
Do You Crave Stories about Magic and Fantasy?
Then Here are Two More Stories for You from Red Sage Presents!
Master of the Elements by Alice Gaines
As Elsbeth says goodbye to her father at the foot of the forbidden mountain, he places a bride’s garland on her head and then refuses to let her go.
“I won’t leave you,” he insists. “Not to what lives up there.”
But Elsbeth has always known that her fate can only be found at the crest of the forbidden mountain in the master’s castle, a place shrouded in legend and kissed by the clouds.
Every hundred years, on the sixth day of the sixth month of the sixth year of the new century, a virgin from the town is led to the foot of the mountain and sent up to her destiny at the master’s hands. None of the virgins are ever heard from again.
As the time for the sacrifice grows near, the master’s protection against the elements begins to falter. Drought, wind, cold. Crops fail. The people are suffering, and only Elsbeth can put a stop to it.
But at what cost? Is Elsbeth a blood sacrifice? Or a companion to ease the master’s isolation?
Excerpt:
“Don’t question me. Do it.”
She nodded and obeyed. How odd to sit on the lap of someone who might end her life. She’d crawled into her father’s lap as a child, and now she sat on the knee of a man who seemed no more than a mask, robes, and a hand. The hand in question poured some liquid from a pitcher into a tiny glass and handed it to her.
“Drink this.”
She tasted it and found it sweet. Some sort of fortified wine with the scent of flowers. She drank the rest and handed him the glass. As he set it aside, a rush of warmth coursed through her. Pleasant, it made her limbs feel heavy. Her vision blurred, but her other senses came to life. The smell of the oil burning in the torches, the distant sound of waves crashing outside. Even the master’s breathing, which had become labored. Her own heart hammered in her chest, and her skin tingled. Especially at her breasts and the spot between her legs. Her body craved something. It grew restless and hot, but for what?
When his hand went beneath her skirts and found the skin of her calf, she had her answer. She needed his touch. His fingers could make her complete. She sighed and closed her eyes, the better to enjoy the feel of his hand against her skin.
Slowly, he moved higher up her leg to her knee and above. When the stone of his ring grazed the other thigh, she let her legs fall apart. At home, she’d never have allowed a touch so intimate. Such a caress would have mortified her. The heat that now burned her cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment. It took her back to dreams she’d forgotten—images she hadn’t understood. Dark and sinful and delicious. And always accompanied by an ache between her legs.
She throbbed now. He’d drugged the wine, and she ought to be frightened. Instead, every bit of her mind and body focused on the path of fire he was laying now over her upper thigh. Close, so close.
When he finally touched her, she gasped with shock and pleasure. Her hips jerked, pressing her harder against his hand.
“Hot,” he murmured, his voice husky.
Strange, but somehow touching her had moved him, as well. His breath came faster, as did hers. Somehow, they’d formed a connection, and he’d caught her fever.
With no suitors, she’d never learned much about what went on between men and women. Some part of a man’s body would get hard, and then he’d put it inside his wife. The master would do that with her now. He had the right.
Kitsune by Lila Dubois
On the anniversary of Joe’s mother’s death he breaks his own rules and has a one night stand with an exotic stranger. Sakura is unlike any woman Joe’s ever met: smart, beautiful, and very quirky. That’s because Sakura isn’t like any woman he’s know before—she’s not human. Sakura’s a kitsune, a mystical Japanese fox who can take on the form of a woman, on a mission: help Joe discover his Japanese heritage and make peace with his past. They didn’t say anything about falling in love with him…
Excerpt:
Joe blinked, head rolling to one side on his pillow. It felt like he’d slept for weeks. Every inch of him was calm and relaxed, each breath came easy, and for once he didn’t wake with an anxious feeling gnawing at the back of his stomach. He yawned and cracked his jaw, stretching first his right and then left arm over his head.
The blankets were gone but it was warm in the room. He turned on his side, propping his head on his left arm and smiled at the woman who knelt in the center of the bed.
“Hello,” he said.
“Bonsowa-ru.”
“I don’t speak Japanese.”
“Hai. Nihongo o hanasu.”
“No, I don’t. I can’t understand you.”
The kneeling woman tilted her head slightly to one side, causing a faint stirring in the long black hair that shielded her body.
“Watashi ga itta koto o ikani shitta ka?”
“Don’t you speak English? Who are you?”
“Watashi no namae ha Sakura de aru.” One pale, slender arm, ending in a tiny plump hand, emerged from the cloak of hair. She leaned forward, her dark eyes on his, and pressed her hand over his heart. Her small fingers were warm and their touch sent a ripple of pleasure through him. “Takai,” she said.
She pulled her hand back, touching her own heart, her hair parting to expose her left breast. “Sa
kura.”
“No.” Joe shook his head, slow and dreamlike. He carefully curled his fingers around her wrist and brought her hand back to his chest. “Joe.” He let go her wrist and stretched out his arm, placing his hand over her heart. “Sah-kur-ah.”
She cupped her fingers over his and nodded, gaze never leaving him. “Sakura.”
Joe pushed himself up with his right hand, keeping his left over her heart.
“You’re very beautiful.”
She continued to stare at him, but then blushed and looked down and away, seeming to have understood.
Brushing away her concealing hair, he slid his left hand down over her small breast. Her nipple pebbled in his palm and Joe moved his hand in a circle. The sensitive tip rolled and scraped against his hand, and she made the most beautiful little mewing sound.
His body had been strangely lethargic, but at that sound, so small and aroused, his cock hardened. She reached for him, but hesitated.
“May I touch you? You’re very beautiful. I want to know you.”
“Hai, hai, yorokobasu tame ni watashi ni fureru koto ga dekiru.”
The words echoed, Japanese and English layered over one another, though she was the only speaker. He nodded.
Joe lost himself as her small fingers wrapped around him, squeezing once and then releasing so she could explore each ridge and vein with just her slim fingertips. He brushed her hair over her right shoulder with shaking fingers.
She was slender and petite, beautifully so, her soft skin glowing moon-white. When her fingers wrapped around him once more, Joe urged her onto her back. She went, willing and beautiful, her hair spilling beneath her to form a blanket. Instead of white on white, her flesh against the sheets, she lay amid inky beauty.
He pinched the base of her right breast between his fingers, plumping the flesh and raising her nipple. She uttered a soft little cry as he used lips and teeth to tease her again and again.
* * *
Q&A With Alice Gaines
1) Please tell us a bit about yourself:
First off, I’m an old, widow lady with bad knees. My generation was on the front lines of the sexual revolution and it’s been said, we think we invented sex. I don’t know about that but we did make it very popular. “If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with” was a hit when I was coming of age.
I still wear my hair hippie-style—straight and long, parted down the middle—even though it’s pure white now.
2) How many books have you written, what genres?
Five of the books I’ve finished, have never been published. When I add those to the published ones (do I have enough fingers here to count?), I get ten all together. Three were historical romances (one of those paranormal). One was a paranormal contemporary romance. One was a fantasy with no sex at all but a strong romantic element.
I’ve lost count of how many shorter works I’ve published. All are romances, though and all erotic/ultra-sensual. My first publication was a fantasy novella in Secrets 1. I had historical novellas in Secrets 6 and 8. Of course, I’ll have a fantasy romance with ERedSage.com in November. I really loved this story, and I’m thrilled that it’ll be part of the launch.
3) What prompted you to become a writer, (erotic)?
My imagination has always run wild. Since I was little, I’ve told myself stories, and they were often more satisfying than the ones I read or saw in movies and on television. When personal computers became popular, I had an easy way to write my stories down. Immediately, I discovered that I wanted to write romance and the hotter the better. That probably comes from my background on the front lines of the sexual revolution and my natural optimism. I like happy endings. I don’t care what the “serious” world thinks of them.
4) What are your plans for future books?
My next project will be a full-length romance that takes place in an alternative universe. My heroine discovers herself in a place that on the surface looks like her home, Oakland, California but here, the anti-sex vigilantes have taken over the government. She has to save this universe before she can return to save her own. The future of her children depends on it.
5) How did becoming a writer change your life?
What way did it not change my life? I can have Christmas every day. Only, people behave the way I want them to, my presents are perfect, dinner cooks itself and the day has a happy ending.
Writing gives me insights all the time. To show my heroines through my heroes’ eyes, I had to learn to look at a woman as the object of sexual desire. As a heterosexual, that was new for me and it’s enriched my appreciation of women. By training, I’m a PhD psychologist and I learn so much about people by writing. True, they aren’t “real” people, but they have to behave like real people to be believable. Often, they have to be more real than actual people, who act pretty strangely a lot of the time.
Plus, I love my characters. It thrills me when someone else loves my characters, too. They’re like my children but without the fighting and the college tuition.
6) Which if any, favorite, authors played into your wanting to write yourself?
I still remember the impression, C. S. Lewis made on me as a child and a teen. I wanted to be able to create worlds as magical as his. The Chronicles of Narnia and the Perelandra trilogy are what influenced me to want to write fantasy.
Of course, I read romantic literature like Jane Eyre, Gone with the Wind and The Once and Future King (the Arthur legend). Shakespeare rocks my world, especially MacBeth and The Taming of the Shrew. There’s no one better in the English language. He takes my breath away and makes me feel as insignificant as the dust collecting around his writing table. I admire the plays of Arthur Miller, too, especially, The Crucible. That play gave me a lifelong obsession with the Salem witch trials.
In romance, I adore Laura Kinsale, Anne Stuart, and Penny Williamson, although I’m sure there are others I should mention here, as well.
7) Any plans to step out of your usual genre?
I have done one fantasy. I may do more, especially if that book is successful. I honestly think, though, that my main interest is in writing romance inside fantasy worlds.
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Alice’s Cincinnati Chili
I love to cook. It’s my second obsession, next to writing. Most of my favorite recipes are either copyrighted or too much work for someone who doesn’t love to cook. I make my own pizza and pasta regularly. You really need a pasta roller to make pasta often.
My favorite thing to make on an evening when I’m too exhausted to cook or go out and buy something is my version of Cincinnati chili. It sounds weird but it’s really yummy, easy and fast.
Start a big pot of water boiling. For one person, open a 15 oz can of good chili with beans and dump half of the contents into a frying pan. Save the rest for another night. Warm gently until hot. Cook your favorite pasta until al dente. (I use spaghetti. I’ve been known to do this with homemade fettuccine.) Using tongs, transfer undrained pasta to the pan with the chili and mix. A little at a time, add pasta water until the chili makes a bubbling sauce around the pasta.
Put into a bowl, top with freshly grated jack or cheddar cheese. On the side, have sour cream and hot sauce. If you have mild onion, you can also add some finely chopped.
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Red Sage Publishing—The Leader in Women’s Erotic Romance
Sensual fiction written for the adventurous woman. Featuring the best in women’s ultra sensual and spicy fiction, satisfying your desire for more. Visit our website and discover delicious temptations and spicy fantasies!
www.eRedSage.com
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Rose Red and Black Bear Page 9
