by J. E. Taylor
Table of Contents
Touch of Fire
Touch of Fire | A Collection of Steamy Shorts | by | J.E. Taylor
Table of Contents
The Seduction of Sir Galahad
Miami Heat
Office Games
Mile High
The Raising
House Rules
About J.E. Taylor
Touch of Fire
© July 2018 J.E. Taylor
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Warning: Short stories contain graphic language and explicit consensual sex scenes.
Touch of Fire
A Collection of Steamy Shorts
by
J.E. Taylor
Table of Contents
The Seduction of Sir Galahad
Sir Galahad comes out of his shell when a fallen angel catches his attention.
Miami Heat
After leaving an abusive relationship behind, all Lynn wanted was a quiet summer in Miami – but her ex has other thoughts.
Office Games
An office attraction ignites into one wild and kinky affair.
Mile High
An exploration into sexual ménage and a helicopter ride she’ll never forget.
The Raising
What would you do to bring your soul mate back from the dead? Would you give up your soul? Your talents? Your life?
Dr. Holly Robbins lost her husband to a stray bullet and now she has another patient on the brink between life and death. A patient whose mother offers a unique opportunity, but only if Holly can save her son.
House Rules
Layla's gambling addiction brings her face-to-face with the devil’s emissary and now she's playing for her soul.
Kaine is one hot, soul-collecting stud. He runs the table in Hell’s den, and the house rules are simple: if the player wins, they are given the choice to walk away with the amount of time in their pot. But if the house wins, the player must pay the loss with pain.
When all the player’s chips are lost, they become a permanent resident of hell.
Can Layla resist the temptation for more time, or will she end up locked in hell, screaming for all eternity?
About J.E. Taylor
The Seduction of Sir Galahad
My name is Sofiel and I fell from grace close to a thousand years ago. A lost angel, stripped of my wings and cursed to forever walk this earth, but not as a human: no, as an aberration, all because I fell in love.
Righteous and full of valor, my Galahad roamed the lands with a pure heart, riding for the vain quest of his king, a quest for immortality draped under the twisted guise of religion. He had all the regal charm of his father, Lancelot, but not the tenacious appetite for the female form.
No, he had a different insatiable hunger altogether.
THE KING STEWED, PLOTTED and planned, calculating how he could use Galahad to bring him what he coveted. When Galahad yanked Excalibur from the stone, the king’s hopes renewed and he proclaimed his chosen martyr as the greatest knight in the world, and sent him to retrieve the Holy Grail.
What a snow job. Hence my entrance onto the scene.
I was sent as a warning, as a sign from God meant to open the young knight’s eyes to the false pretenses of his king.
I still remember the smell of the pines drifting around me as I stood on the horse path, waiting. That first view took me by surprise; his golden hair glimmered against the green backdrop of the forest, his skin—like a bronzed porcelain doll—rivaled the beauty I encompassed, but it was his eyes that gave me pause. The blue of Caribbean mixed with the blue of the afternoon sky created a soothing portal I got lost in. Forgetting my purpose, I stared as his white steed came to a halt before me; my wings fluttered with uncertainty.
No fear presented itself in those irises, just an innate curiosity that left me speechless. The man flashed pearly whites in my direction. “My dear fae, you are blocking my path.”
I tilted my head and spread my wings to their intimidating breadth. “I’m no fae, kind sir. I am the angel Sofiel and I have been sent from the heavens to pass on a message.”
His smile faded. He dismounted, fell to his knee before me and averted his eyes. “Forgive me, angel. What message say you?”
I couldn’t help myself. I touched his golden locks; a sensation softer than silk caressed my fingertips and overwhelmed me. The corset pressing my bosom tightened uncomfortably, the earthly outfit became snug against the warmth that fluttered in my belly.
He raised his oceanic gaze to mine and a crease appeared between his eyes. “What say you, angel?”
“King Arthur must not attain possession of the Holy Grail,” I whispered. “It is not for him to use for his own vanity.”
Galahad blinked and stood; he took a step backwards.
“My king is not vain.”
“His intent is impure.”
Eyebrows arched and he went to speak but I stepped forward. I pressed my finger to his mouth to stop the argument from passing between us.
The satin of his smooth, warm lips sparked a heat through my celestial being like a comet streaking across the sky and locked me in the flesh I donned for the intervention.
“His intent is impure,” I repeated and stepped closer, drawn to those eyes.
“And what of your intent?”
Thunder rumbled above, my Lord making his presence known as carnal desire swept through me. I ran my fingertips from his lips to the line of his chest. “My intent was to deliver the message.”
His lips twitched to a smile. “And what of it now?”
The low purr of his voice enchanted me and struck me silent. I searched his playful gaze; my wings again trembled, but not from doubt. They quavered with the sudden onslaught of lust.
This time he closed the space between us and ran his fingers from my shoulders down my bare arms until they laced with my own.
Lightning traced the sky and his steed whinnied but his gaze remained on mine. The small dimples in his cheeks faded and he ever so slightly leaned in, his breath sweet and enticing as it grazed across my cheek.
“What is your intent, angel?”
My intent had indeed changed, much to the chagrin of my father—his clanging in the sky a constant reminder of his presence and his disappointment in the need that stirred in my soul. I met Sir Galahad’s inquisitive eyes, his lips a fraction away from mine, and found my voice. “My intent is pure.”
He laughed in that instant, a musical laugh to be sure, and he shook his head. “Based on what I see in your eyes, I think not.” His hands unclasped from mine and slid around my waist. He pulled me against his well-defined chest. The strong beat of his heart resounded through my corset, each beat a step further into eternal damnation.
My wings fluttered, folding neatly in place, and I let out a shaky breath. My hands, firm on his chest, ran up around
his neck. I tilted my head to the side and watched the wicked gleam dance in his eyes. Before I could speak, his lips covered mine and time stood still.
The sweet flavor of the bread he had for breakfast followed his tongue into my mouth and I twirled mine with his; the exquisite dance left me breathless and weak in his arms. My heart, which for thousands of years belonged to God, surrendered into Galahad’s hands with that first taste.
He shifted with the kiss still in full throttle and his hand slid to the front of my bodice. He caressed the fabric covering my bosom; his touch sent tingles through my earthly form and recreated the landscape of heaven.
A small sigh escaped between our lips and his hand retreated, leaving only his chest crushed against mine. The clap of thunder diminished the sound of tearing fabric and Galahad’s fingers traced the newly revealed skin on my back. Without breaking the kiss, he stripped the corset off my body and tossed it to the side of the path.
His velvet lips left mine and I let out a squeak of protest, but he took no mind. Butterfly kisses trailed to my jaw, dipping below and tickling the line of my neck. Tingles encompassed me; a layer of chills cascaded over my heated skin. His hands traveled to my breasts; the tips of his fingers ran over the hardened nipples, and I squirmed with delight at his gentle kneading.
Waves of fresh sensations raked over my skin and his hand gave way to his mouth. His tongue flicked over my nipples in unison with my heartbeat and fluttering wings. I exhaled, my eyes rolling back in rapture, and I ran my fingers through his silken hair. I held him to my bosom; he explored every inch of my exposed flesh with his mouth.
Fervor drove him and he pushed me into the woods to a large rock hidden by cypress branches. He stripped my petticoat, removing all means of trusses that kept him from his goal. Propping me on the rock, he took a moment to scan my maiden form. The smile that surfaced thrilled me and my skin, the flesh of this whelp, cried out for his touch.
“Sir Galahad,” I said and his eyes met my gaze, hungry and feral.
He dropped to his knee. He ran his hands up my legs and spread them wide, the gleam in his eyes satiating my duress. The moment his tongue spread my lips and dipped into my pussy, I cried out. This was paradise. With my feet resting on his shoulders, my knight licked and flicked my clit until I thought I saw the clouds part and heaven’s hand reach for me. The wave of ecstasy rushed through my frame accompanied with a moan that bordered on a song of praise.
Galahad lapped the flood between my legs. He reveled in my wetness and mumbled something akin to drinking the nectar of the gods. His fingers slid inside me, gentle at first and then more insistent. The sinuous movement arched this body, creating an ache in my loins only he could satisfy.
He pulled away and wiped his mouth and chin with his hand. His sparkling eyes met mine as he shrugged my feet from his shoulders.
“Don’t stop!”
Dimples appeared and he stood. He kissed me and shifting so he now leaned on the rock and I stood naked before him; my wings fluttered in agitation until he brought my hands to the ties holding his britches in place. I ran my palm over the front of his pants and felt the stiffness of his manhood beneath.
Thunder clapped and lightning streaked across the sky, but I ignored the warnings. With my eyes locked on his, I unthreaded the laces and set his cock free of the fabric. He closed his eyes when I wrapped my hand around his shaft and lightly stroked.
“Angel, I want your heavenly mouth.” He ran his hands into my hair and directed me to my knees on the soft bed of moss.
A drop of dew glistened on the head of his erect penis and I licked the salty sustenance. I glanced up at his half-mast gaze. His smile alone was enough to charm his cock further in my mouth; I tasted him, explored his ample length and sucked his balls between each seductive pass. My mouth covered his entire scrotum and I tickled him with my tongue.
“Sofiel.”
His groan filled my soul just as his cock overflowed my mouth. I swallowed his length until my lips met his pelvis. I closed my eyes and drew back until only the sensitive tip was left; I rolled my tongue over it, eliciting another few drops of his nectar.
His hand embedded in my hair and guided the pace; his hips thrust faster and faster in time with the strokes of my lips until his seed flooded my mouth and bubbled around the slick skin of his cock. I swallowed with him still full in my mouth and sucked his juices until nothing was left. He shuddered.
I sat back on my heels, wiped the stray drops off my face, and met his satiated gaze. His hand combed through my hair and he fingered the texture before it retreated.
I sent a glance toward the dark heavens. My God still announced his displeasure, but like a stubborn child, I forsake him and focused back on Galahad. He leaned languid against the rock and studied me with a hint of a smile.
I took a step away and his hand gripped my arm. He pulled me back into his arms and hiked us both onto the flat surface of the rock so I straddled his waist. His lips were already on mine and sucked the breath from my lungs. His strong hands held me in place and he circled my hips slowly on his cock to coax it to life.
I stripped his shirt and ran my hands over his smooth, tanned skin. “You are perfect.”
He chuckled. “No, fair angel. I am far from perfect.”
I stopped my slow exploration of his chest and arms and met his amused gaze. “Oh but you are. You are worthy of immortality.”
His eyebrows arched and his rich laughter echoed in the forest. “I just seduced the Lord’s angel. I think that puts me in the damned category.”
Before I could protest, he crushed my lips and swiped his tongue into the recesses of my mouth. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and kissed him like it was my last act on earth.
He lifted my hips and slid his stiff cock inside me. I gasped; my eyes flew open at the sudden sting of his thrust breaking my innocence. Pain gave way to unearthly pleasure as he filled my womb and rocked me up and down his hard shaft. Gentle rocking transitioned to frantic thrusts, both of us panting and sweating in the heat of the forest.
I arched into the orgasm and his lips latched onto my breast, his breath hot and raspy. His hips continued their plunge even as my body shuddered and relaxed. I rode the storm of emotion, of physical sensations accosting me; I reveled in it, bordering religious fanaticism. Heaven couldn’t compare to being in his arms, and when the trembling subsided and he lifted his gaze to mine, I knew I found utopia.
He smoothed the hair away from my face to search my eyes. Questions laced the depths of his gaze but none flowed from his slightly parted lips. Instead, he offered a dazzling smile and lifted me from his lap, setting me on my feet.
The sky sent a flash of lightning in my direction, but I couldn’t spin away fast enough. I screamed and flapped my singed wing; sharp agony pierced the nerves and sent tendrils of pain through my back. I fell to my knees.
Galahad moved swiftly to douse the budding flames with his discarded shirt. Blackened fluff fell to the ground around me; the unpleasant stench of burnt feathers filled the thick air and I gagged, coughing and sputtering through the intended suffering. My breath wheezed and I scanned the scattered mess, raising my eyes to his.
Deep concern reflected in the pools of his irises and he knelt next to me, his hand gentle on my shoulder. “Sofiel.”
Pain kept me silent and I shook my head, my lungs barely able to draw breath, never mind speak. God’s judgment—his punishment—reeled in my mind. This debilitating agony was meant to continue for all time.
“Cut them off.” I squeezed out the words. I clung to the hope that by removing my injured wings, I could end the sensation of a thousand daggers piercing my skin and be granted a stay of execution.
He hesitated long enough to read the plea in my eyes and then disappeared from view. He returned with Excalibur shining in one hand and my discarded clothing in the other.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded and bowed my head low so the arch of my back faced the sky.
The molted wing trembled from both fear and pain. He grabbed the broken wing and I gasped. With a whoosh of air and gleaming steel, the blackened appendage fell to the ground. My last conscious act was to spread my good wing.
The whistle of his blade followed me into the dark.
BRIGHT LIGHT BLED THROUGH my eyelids and I hissed at the sharp pain in my back.
“Shhh,” he whispered and stroked his fingers through my hair. He repeated the slow, calming motion.
The cot I laid on dug into my ribs and I shifted. I winced as I turned my head toward him. Cool liquid dripped from a cloth he held, coating the burning strips where my wings once resided. I met his gaze.
“You’re going to be all right.” He offered a slight smile but his eyes belied the assurance in his voice.
“I’ll live.” My voice was nothing more than a croak. I’d live until the sun in the sky died and this planet shriveled into a husk of its former self, and even then I’d walk the dark ruins until the earth was no more.
That earned me a full smile and a kiss on my temple. “My Sofiel.” The words accompanied a sigh and I raised an eyebrow.
“What do you want with a broken angel?”
Galahad’s eyes softened and his finger traced the line of my cheek. “Broken or not, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever set eyes on.” He dipped the rag in the bucket of water and raised it over my back again to soothe the burn of broken skin.
A knock at the door interrupted his musing and he looked away from me. He dropped the cloth on the table as he crossed to the door, opened it and waved the cloaked figure inside.
When the hood fell back, I tensed, wincing in silence. Sir Galahad had called upon the king’s witch.
“Thank you for coming.” He hung Merlin’s cloak by the door.
Merlin nodded and turned toward me, studying the wounds in my back from a distance.
“Can you help her?”
Merlin drew a deep breath and stepped closer.