“I don’t want this,” she whispered. “Please. You have to stop.”
Aidan glanced sharply at Rafael and his doubts flooded the forefront of her mind. Quickly, Rafael whisked them away and his hand closed on her arm. His touch was warm, gentle, soothing. But he didn’t press the contact to force himself into her mind.
Her fear sparked higher and then bled away to be replaced by something else. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog of desire rising up through her.
“Don’t fight it,” Rafael murmured, and his voice rang through her mind and all around her. “Let us help you, Eva. That’s why we’re here, after all.”
“Don’t be afraid.” Aidan smoothed his hand across her back, tracing the length of her spine. He stopped at its base, teasing the sensitive dent above the sweep of her ass.
“Please,” she whispered, no longer sure what she was pleading for.
Rafael moved closer still, the warmth of his body encircling her, his scent taunting her. “Please what, sweetheart?”
Eva rocked her hips towards him. The hardness of his cock pressed against her stomach through his clothes, and she gasped. She couldn’t say it. How could she? What sort of a freak did this make her? The feelings that boiled up inside her, the needs, the hunger. Rafael caught her hips, pulling her closer. Aidan pushed, his hands cupping the cheeks of her ass now, pulling them apart so his fingers could slip between. She gasped, trying to fight the sensation again, unable to just let this happen.
“Please what?” Rafael asked again. He released her hips, sliding his palms up the curve of her sides until they reached her breasts. He cupped them, taking their small weight so gently, so maddeningly gently. Her nipples stiffened, two hard points reaching out to him, begging for his touch, for his mouth, for anything, in ways her voice couldn’t.
Aidan’s lips pressed to hers, soft but firm, determined. Her mouth opened, hungry for his kiss, needing him. His tongue filled her and then withdrew. He kissed her chin, her throat, sinking down and trailing kisses after him, all the way down her front. Her chest leaped, her stomach fluttered as his lips burned their way along the length of her body. Rafael’s thumbs brushed across her nipples with unusual roughness and she bucked, helpless beneath their ministrations. Shudders of panic filled her. Loss of control, terror of release. How could she let go? How could she not? It was too much. Far too much.
It tumbled over her in a wave of sensations for which she had no defence. She gave in and let it overwhelm her. Rafael stroked her skin, seeking out every sensitive spot that Aidan’s industrious lips missed.
“Please,” she groaned, letting her head fall back as she tumbled into ecstasy. “Please, touch me, take me. I need…I need to feel…”
Aidan’s fingertips grazed the lips of her vulva, parting the lips, moistening them with the molten honey he found there. His finger slid deep inside her. Her body clenched around the penetration, even as he withdrew, and the tightness began to unwind, rippling through her, gaining momentum. Fear echoed the sensation. This was unknown, forbidden. This was…
“Shh, my brave heart,” Rafael murmured and his lips captured hers. Not the bruising kiss she was expecting from him. His lips brushed lightly against hers, far gentler even than Aidan’s, soft like butterfly wings and she opened beneath him just as willingly. His tongue tested her, slowly filling her mouth, inspiring hers to coil around his with a series of sultry images which flared directly into her mind.
More. She needed more. And she hated herself for it. Some defect in her that welcomed this.
“It’s not a defect.” His voice reverberated through her mind, soothing her fears. “Pleasure is natural, a part of you, something to be embraced, not locked away. You’ve been so strong, so controlled. But you can give that up now. It has no place here. Let go.”
Her whole body shivered.
“You can do it, Eva,” Aidan whispered and his finger circled her clitoris again, making her jump. “I know you can. You’re magnificent.”
Her? She was a frozen shell, closed and unassailable. Or she was meant to be. But she was melting, and all the control she once prided herself on was slipping away.
Aidan slid to his knees between her legs, lifting her from the ground to take her slight weight on his shoulders. His hands stroked the sensitive skin at the top of her thighs, parting the silken folds of flesh. His mouth tormented her, his tongue seeking out the pearl of her clitoris his finger had so recently discovered. The soft fluttering inside her sharpened as he captured it, sucking gently. Her pulse flooded to a centre there. She shuddered and moaned into Rafael’s mouth. Aidan’s mouth moved faster now, his tongue darting inside, moving with the pulse of her desire. Her clitoris throbbed against him and she cried out, her voice trapped in Rafael’s kiss.
Nothing had ever been like this. Not the timid fumblings of Tony’s graceless touch. It’d hurt, left her exposed and in the end seen her trust betrayed. But it’d never been so—
“Shh…” Rafael’s mind soothed hers with the most intimate contact of all. “That was long ago. Put it away. It will never be like that. I’m here. We’re both here.”
Both of them. That was the image that did it. She wanted them…needed them both. Rafael would keep her safe, would protect her, would guard her mind. And Aidan, the warrior who had come to rescue her, the one who wanted to force her to see her life for what it was, and then help her build something new… Aidan, who pushed her to the edge and with the deftest flick of his tongue toppled her over.
When the craving takes hold, the only thing to do is ride it out…
Midnight Craving
© 2010 Lolita Lopez
Midnight Vice, Book 1
Patrolling Houston’s gritty supernatural underbelly has its perks. For Isla Alvarez, it’s working alongside nephilim SWAT Officer Jace Lane. Ruggedly handsome and possessed of mad skills, Jace embodies everything she’s ever wanted.
Unfortunately, the demonic blood pumping through her veins keeps them separated, since relationships between human descendants of archangels and demons aren’t actively encouraged. Staying away from him, though, is impossible after she winds up on the receiving end of a nasty sexual-compulsion curse, courtesy of a sadistic vampiress. Suddenly Isla is overwhelmed with a life-threatening lust only Jace can sate.
Jace’s principles were once strong enough to resist his longing for the alluring Isla, but in the face of her desperate craving, his desire breaks free—leaving him wondering if she’s not the only one affected by the spell. He’d be more than happy to satisfy Isla’s increasing need for sexual release, if they weren’t in a race against time to reverse the curse before it turns deadly.
For Isla, it’s not just her life she’s worried about losing. It’s her heart.
Warning: contains wicked-hot shower sex, raging-hormone-induced naughty language, driving under the influence (of overwhelming lust) and smiting of demons and vamps.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Midnight Craving:
Jace sagged as his feet finally touched solid ground in what appeared to be a parking garage. He hated teleporting. It just wasn’t natural for bodies to move through time and space like that. It was also an irksome reminder of the stark differences between them. While demons and archangels could appear anywhere at will, only the descendants of demons inherited that trick. It had to do with the laws of temptation.
Isla patted his back and told him to breathe. He shot her an annoyed look. Before he could offer a snappy retort, his eyes landed on the silver ’69 Chevelle SS right behind her. “Whoa!”
“My baby.” A broad grin on her face, Isla fished a key ring from her pocket and unlocked the passenger door. “It was Daddy’s project car. He never got around to fixing it up while he was alive. Took me years to learn enough to do it myself.”
“Why have I never seen this before?” Jace ran his hands over the wide black racing stripes on the hood. “I would have noticed this in the parking lot at work.”
Isla shrugged.
“This is my pleasure vehicle. Besides, it’s just easier to skip between work and home. If I wasn’t so damned tired, we’d make chase like that, but I just don’t think I have the energy today.”
At her weary tone, Jace gave her the once-over. She looked a bit deflated and haggard around the eyes. “I don’t want you expending yourself, Isla. Renata’s likely to put up a hellacious fight. You’re going to need your strength.”
“And supplies.” Isla walked around and popped the trunk.
Jace whistled as he took in the stockpile she had hidden there. “And here I was worrying we’d have to hit up headquarters for a resupply.”
Smiling, she snatched a backpack from the trunk and shoved it into his hands. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t open any of the demon-vaporizing powders and potions in there. It’s windy and a face full of that shit really stings.”
Jace nodded as he rifled through the backpack and considered the finer points of fighting demons with a half-demon at his side. He pulled out a handful of bullet clips. “I’ll stick to the modified rounds.”
“Good choice.” Isla slammed the trunk closed. “Vamos.”
Jace slid into the passenger’s seat and exchanged some of his vampire-killing weapons for demon-vanquishing ones. The car roared to life, his seat vibrating beneath him. He heard the snap of Isla’s lap belt and glanced over.
Her eyebrows lifted. “I’d buckle up if I were you.”
Jace didn’t have to be told twice. He dropped the clips in his lap and grappled for his lap belt. He’d barely snapped it in place when Isla pressed the clutch and gas and shot out of the parking space. She sped down the curving levels of the garage, wheels squealing, feet moving back and forth between the pedals with the barest of pauses.
When they reached the exit facing out on a busy downtown street, he expected the vehicle to stop—but it didn’t. Eyes wide, he pumped an imaginary brake. They raced onto the street, the tail end of the Chevelle swinging wide before it snapped straight. Miraculously, they fit into the tiniest space between speeding cars. “Jesus Christ!”
“Calm down,” Isla chided, her hand effortlessly guiding the gear shift as she depressed and released the clutch. “You know I can see things.”
“I don’t care.” Jace gripped his lap belt and eyed the dashboard. He cursed the lack of airbags. “For all we know, the curse has fucked with your radar. I’d like to not find out you’re off by a few seconds when we’re T-boned by a semi.”
Isla rolled her eyes and zipped down the bustling street toward a northbound I-45 on-ramp. He breathed easier at the thought of more space for her jarring maneuvers but his relief was short-lived. She punched the gas, moving through the gears as she tried to outrace the semi barreling toward them in the merging lane. Like a bat out of hell, she swerved onto I-45, cutting a hair’s breadth in front of the semi and sliding across two lanes of traffic to an opening.
“Where the hell did you learn to drive? The James Bond School for Stunt Drivers?”
Isla snorted. “I wish.”
The Chevelle gained speed quickly, bypassing the already-speeding vehicles surrounding it. Isla weaved the car in and out of traffic, making up lost time in their pursuit of the demons who had firebombed his Tahoe. Jace didn’t have to ask where they were heading. The last house on the list wasn’t actually in Houston but on the shores of Lake Woodlands, an extremely wealthy enclave just north of Houston. Unless the Porsche was stopped by one of the Midnight Vice patrol units, it was almost a given the demons would beat them to Renata’s last hideout. And that was a bad thing.
Isla flicked on the stereo. She picked up the iPod stuffed into the console organizer straddling the floorboard hump and plugged an adapter into the cigarette lighter. Seconds later, eighties pop—German eighties pop—filtered through the speakers.
“‘99 Luftballons’?” Jace couldn’t help but laugh. “Weren’t you still in diapers when this came out?”
“Yeah. Not so much.” Isla checked her rearview mirror. “I didn’t make my debut into this world until three or so years after this song hit the big time.” She frowned at him. “But, really? You’re going to laugh at my choice of music? Dude, how many times have I heard you belting out ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’ in the showers at work?”
Embarrassment gripped his chest. Was he really that loud? Who else had heard him singing? “What are you doing hanging around the guy’s locker room anyway?”
Isla giggled at his defensive tone. “Well, you know me, Jace. I’m all about the sausage fest.”
From anyone else, he would have been appalled, but from Isla it was par for the course. He barked with laughter.
She quirked a mischievous smile. “My quips, they slay.”
“Something like that.” Jace wiped the corners of his eyes. He had to admit the day had been enjoyable despite the absolute absurdity of their circumstances. He was beginning to understand why some officers left SWAT for patrol or detective work. There was obviously something nice about spending one’s nights with the same person, working the same leads and cleaning up the streets. Usually he balked at the idea of leaving the often chaotic but always fulfilling world of SWAT. Entertaining the idea of being assigned a partner like Isla didn’t.
His gaze drifted to the setting sun. Another half hour and it would be dark. Renata would be loose on the town. Even with the dragnet keeping her contained to Houston, there was just too much ground to cover in such a short amount of time.
Jace snuck a furtive glance in Isla’s direction. The relaxed expression she’d worn after their laugh had vanished. Tension radiated throughout her features. Her right knuckles were nearly white from gripping the shifter. Her left hand shook against the steering wheel. She swallowed hard and kept her focus forward on the traffic.
Over the last few hours, he’d learned to recognize the signals. She needed him. Now.
Without a word, he unbuckled his seat belt and slid across the bench seat to the middle spot. He snapped his new belt in place and cupped her neck before pressing a kiss to her temple. “Can you keep driving?”
She gulped. “I think so.”
“We can pull over somewhere.”
Isla quickly caught his gaze. “We don’t have time.”
Jace nodded and kissed her neck, a teasing grin curving his lips. His fingers deftly unsnapped the buckle on her tactical belt. It fell away, sliding down around her hips on the seat. He flicked through the button at the top of her jeans and lowered the zipper to reveal purple polka dot panties. She shifted her weight as his hand slipped under the waistband of the cotton and gave him the extra room he needed to get the job done.
The musky scent of her arousal bloomed in the car. Jace licked a sensitive spot on her neck and sucked gently against the skin. His fingers moved down over her mound until they dipped between her slippery folds. “Try not to kill us.”
A passion to appease the gods…or call down their vengeance.
Ritual Passion
© 2009 Cathryn Brunet
The jungle-wrapped city of Challas is dying, crumbling under the weight of its corrupt priesthood and degenerate new gods. But an even greater threat looms on the horizon. Outside the city walls, a pestilence breeds. Unless stopped, it will crawl through the city’s decaying streets and destroy everyone.
Phalandria wants to see her magnificent city reborn and freed from the perversion of the priests who murdered her father. And she wants Massilis, the man who has stood by her side since childhood. The man who’s developed into a magnificent, jungle-hardened warrior…and ignites her unquenchable desire. Although Massilis has always protected her, only once has he allowed his hunger for her to show.
Now the water oracle has called for Phalandria and Massilis to perform the Concubitia, a sexual rite to propitiate the gods. But the priests suspect a conspiracy and will do anything to protect themselves. And Phalandria realizes that the priests are not the only ones sabotaging the ritual.
The man she loves has an agenda of his own.
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Warning: This title contains steamy jungle sex with a magnificently proportioned warrior, sex with multiple partners, and sex in front of overexcited onlookers…who sometimes join in the fun. And many rude words your mother wouldn’t like you to read.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Ritual Passion:
My mother smiles, unexpressed dreams fogging her eyes. “Perhaps tomorrow…”
I know what she wants to say. That Massilis will offer to be my husband is my dream also.
She shakes her head, straightens and places the brush on a side table as though by voicing her hopes she has embarrassed herself. “I will fetch you some nectar.”
My breath becomes shallow. If ever I needed a reminder of the responsibility Massilis and I carry, she has just provided me with it. We bear the tomorrows of all Challasians on our young shoulders. Tomorrows that could end in ravaged bodies and putrefied corpses. A city and people destroyed by its blasphemous complicity and the whim of a fickle goddess.
My mother returns with a cup. I take it from her hands and drink greedily. She picks up the brush to resume her ministrations, but I am discomposed by the dread that dries my throat and tangles my stomach, and want air. Even Challas’s thick, cloying stench is preferable to the confines of the house. I want Lake Muchato. I want to sit at the water’s edge and bathe my feet and feel a cool breeze caress my skin.
I want to escape my troubled mind and retrieve the hope that has slipped through my fingers like sand.
Abruptly, I stand up, surprising Mother. She stills, the brush held out, stroking air.
“What is the matter?” Her tone is frightened, as though she thinks I am about to refuse the call of the Concubitia, that I am about to announce that I refuse to have sex with Massilis.
If I weren’t so agitated, I would laugh at such a preposterous notion. But I cannot laugh. Not now. Tomorrow perhaps, when I can reflect on these moments of awkwardness. But not now. “I am going to the lake, Mother.”
Edge of Heaven Page 26
