Skip to the Good Part 2: 20 Authors Reveal Their Steamiest Scenes

by Pepper Winters

  He reached to my hip and gripped it tightly, kneading it with strong fingers. “I can’t take my eyes off you when you walk. Do you sway your hips like that on purpose, knowing that I’m watching?”

  I shook my head. Usually, I didn’t. Then again, something about Alexander stole my inhibitions. Maybe it was his dirty mouth or his sinful body, but his presence brought out a wanton side to my personality that I’d never suspected I had.

  “All I can think about is grabbing these hips and putting you over my knee,” he continued huskily, “or holding onto them as my cock pounds you. They curve so precisely into my hands. I swear your body is fucking proof of evolution.”

  I closed my eyes, picturing his body dominating mine. Frenetic energy pulsed through me, pooling where his skin made contact with mine.

  “Open your eyes, Clara,” he demanded. His hand lightly smacked my bare buttocks and my eyes flew open. He released my other hand and cupped both of my cheeks. “I’ll have to spend a whole day worshipping your ass. It’s a pity that you can’t see me do it, but I’ll be certain to describe every single thing I want to do to it. Everything I’m going to do to it.”

  Alexander’s hands slid from my rear to my thighs, and he urged them slowly open. Dropping lower, his face nestled against the tender inner flesh. “I suppose it would be too much to ask to be buried here?”

  A giggle slipped from my lips and he kissed the sensitive skin in response. “I’m serious, poppet. I want my lips down here, breathing you in. Your scent intoxicates me, you know. I want your thighs clamping against my ears as I taste you. But I need them spreading open for me, circling around me as I fuck you.”

  Yes, please.

  “You know how I feel about this.” Alexander’s lips moved up, his words whispering across my swollen sex. “Your cunt was made for me. It’s so tight it just squeezes my cock when I’m inside of you, draining every drop from me. But you know that. You know you have a greedy cunt, don’t you? I want you to see. I’m going to fuck you with my tongue, so you can see how fucking beautiful you are when you come.”

  His tongue licked through the lace of my panties up the length of my seam, drawing hungry gasps from me. He pulled back. “Watch, poppet.”

  Plunging between my lips past my thong, he ran his tongue over my cleft, landing on my clit. He pushed my legs open wider, so that I could watch him in the mirror. It was too much, seeing him between my legs, watching as his tongue stroked and sucked, but I didn’t dare turn away. My hands tangled in his hair, holding me to him as my hips ground flagrantly against his mouth.

  My muscles contracted, tension tightening them, with each lash of his tongue. I watched as my eyes slanted dreamily and my teeth bit into my lower lip. My chest moved with shallow pants of anticipation as a film of sweat spread across my skin. I no longer wanted to turn away, I’d lost my reservations to Alexander’s meticulous mouth, and I bucked against his talented tongue.

  I was so close, but my body craved more. “I want to see your cock inside me.”

  Alexander’s hands tightened on my thighs, digging into my skin, adding the edge of pain to my pleasure, but he didn’t relent. Instead his tongue flicked powerfully against my clit before his mouth settled over it, sucking it into his hungry mouth.

  I forgot my request as I came undone, my eyes locked with the girl in the mirror. Her ecstasy mirrored mine—mouth wide, cries spilling from her lips as she unapologetically fucked Alexander’s mouth. Bliss washed over me, splintering over the brink, as I clutched his body to mine.

  “Had enough, poppet?” Alexander asked, kissing the hollow of my thigh.

  I shook my head, unable to speak, as I released him and caught myself on the vanity.

  Alexander rose and moved behind me, unbuckling his jeans as his eyes watched mine in the mirror. The crown of his cock stuck up over the band of his boxer briefs, and I licked my lips.

  “Do you want this?” His eyes hooded as he fisted his rigid shaft.

  I did, but I wanted more than that. Alexander had shown me that he wanted all of me. His desire wasn’t limited to my sex, and mine wasn’t limited to his either.

  “No,” I whispered, aware of the risk I was taking. “I want your body.”

  His image stilled behind me as he took in my words. “You don’t want that, Clara.”

  “There’s no part of my body you don’t want, right?” I waited for him to nod. He did so stiffly, but after his exhibition he could hardly deny it. “There’s no part of your body that I don’t want.”

  “Clara—” he began, but I shushed him.

  “I felt the scars. I know,” I spoke delicately, unsure how he would react to being reminded of that night. I could only trust my instinct. “And I want you. All of you, X. Your body—all of it—makes me so fucking hot.”

  A tenuous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as I repeated his own words back to him. He couldn’t argue with me, but uncertainty glimmered in his eyes. Alexander stepped out of his pants and kicked them toward the bathtub. His boxers followed, putting his magnificent cock on display. But my eyes were locked to his as his fingers gripped the hem of his t-shirt. I smiled reassuringly, and he drew it slowly up his torso, revealing the muscular slab he’d only recently allowed me to touch. I kept my face blank as the first scar came into view. Alexander hesitated, still watching me, as though any moment I might change my mind.

  “All of you, X,” I repeated.

  He tugged the shirt over his head, releasing a ragged breath as my gaze raked over his body. The scars snaked angrily across the left half of his ribs and up across his pecs. Raw and white, they’d faded some with time, but they were impossible to ignore. I stifled a shudder. I’d known it was a serious accident, but knowing and seeing proof were completely different things. It must have been a miracle that he survived, and yet the worst damage had been done to his soul.

  There was nothing standing between us now, and when Alexander’s hands grabbed my hips in a fierce hold, I parted my legs. I ached to feel him move inside me. I needed it. We needed it.

  “Take me,” I whispered, “and don’t be gentle.”

  His hand dropped out of sight and a moment later, his broad crown nudged inside me. Alexander pushed his cock cautiously into my cleft, pausing as I flowered over him. Then his hands were on my hips, forcing me down until I engulfed his thick shaft. Despite my request, his hips rocked with slow, deliberate strokes, allowing my body to adjust to his delicious girth. His hands slid across my stomach, circling and tightening across my torso as his thrusts deepened. Dipping to my neck, his teeth caught the curve of it, latching on as he continued to piston his cock until he was buried to the root against my sex.

  I wanted to see him, all of him, as he fucked me, so I bowed forward, pulling free of his hands. Sinking down, I clutched the counter, gasping as he penetrated deeper. His eyes shut against his reflection, but I drank in his lean form as he drove into me.

  He was beautiful, and he was mine. The scars of his past didn’t scare me, they drew me to him. And he needed to know that.

  “Open your eyes, X,” I commanded in a strong, sure voice. He had shown me how he saw me, and I wanted to return the favor. “I want you to see what you do to me. I want you to see what I see.”

  Alexander’s eyes flew open, blazing with wildfire, and the pain shining in them stole my breath away. I pushed against him encouragingly and his pace increased. His fingers caught my hair and tugged it back, yanking up my neck so that my gaze was fixed to his. And when I couldn’t look away, he plunged hard into my drenched sex, impaling me on his cock. I cried out, pleasure wrenching through me as he continued his merciless onslaught. Our sights were locked on each other as the first surge quaked through me. I fought to keep my eyes open as the pressure mounted, aroused by the sheen of perspiration glistening across his carved body.

  “Don’t stop,” I begged. “All of you. Give me all of you.”

  A groan vibrated from him as he poured into me, flooding me with hot gus
hes, and I shattered, bursting against him with a rapturous cry.

  Collapsing against the vanity, I rode out the after-tremors, but Alexander continued to pound into me, moving with slick, desperate thrusts against my sensitive walls.

  “Alexander,” I pled, but he didn’t stop.

  “Need … need …” he grunted, his voice distant as he drove tirelessly into me.

  I recognized the fire burning in his eyes—saw his need to control, and I trembled as my sex swelled, smarting at the endless stimulation. The veins on his neck pulsed, a guttural noise escaping his lips as he came again. But he didn’t slow. He was lost, chasing the demons of his past with visceral, animalistic need.

  Wresting away from him, my sex swollen and full, I turned and folded my arms around his shoulders.

  “Brimstone,” I whispered my safe word, not only for my benefit, but for his as well. He thought he could outrun the past by controlling the present.

  “I need to be inside you,” he gasped, but I shook my head.

  This moment was too raw—too fresh—to ignore.

  His head dropped to my chest and he gathered me in his arms, lifting me to sit on the counter. When he finally looked up, the flame was gone from his eyes, and I saw through him, even as his gaze pieced me. We were stripped to one another, unguarded and vulnerable. He tenderly positioned himself against my battered entrance, pausing as his eyes asked permission. No longer hesitating, I sheathed myself to his root, knowing there was no other choice.

  Neither of us moved.

  Neither of us spoke.

  But we clung to one another motionlessly, woven together through shared pain and united by unspoken promise. We were defenseless, exposed, naked, and we could only face it together.

  Read more from Geneva Lee’s novel Command Me (Royals, #1). She also invites you to subscribe to her mailing list for alerts on new releases and to connect with her on Facebook.

  About Command Me (Royals, #1)…

  A chance encounter with a handsome stranger leads to an illicit affair with a Royal bad boy...

  When he kissed me, I was shocked. He was a stranger and still so familiar. It wasn't until I woke up to my picture splashed on the cover of tabloids that I realized I knew who he was.

  Prince Alexander of Cambridge.

  Royal bad boy.

  Exiled heir to the throne.

  He isn't Prince Charming. He's controlling. He's demanding. He's dangerous. And I can't say no to him.

  We both have secrets—secrets that could tear us apart or drive us closer together—and as the paparazzi exposes each one, I have to decide just how far I've fallen under his command.

  About Geneva Lee…

  Geneva Lee prefers fantasy to reality, especially fantasies involving powerful, dangerous, and sexy men. You can find her devouring a good romance while avoiding the laundry and the children.

  Greetings From Sugartown

  Sugartown, #3

  Carmen Jenner

  “I hope you know I’m not interested in screwing other women. Hell, I don’t even fucking see other women any more. You’re all I see, Ana. You’re all I want to see.”

  I come up onto my knees and yank my shirt over my head, then I go to work on my belt and jeans, allowing them to fall down around my ankles. My belt hits the floor with a thud, and I kick off the scratchy, oil-stained denim. “Take your clothes off.”

  “You don’t think maybe we should talk some more about this?”

  “Ana, baby girl, take your fucking clothes off before I rip them from your hot little body.”

  She raises her hands in a warding gesture. “Okay, okay, taking them off.”

  “You’re taking too long,” I growl, and pounce on the bed. I don't hear what she says next because I'm too busy burying my face in her tits and inhaling. She smells like she always does, a mix of vanilla and baked goods, only now she smells like my favourite whiskey, too.

  Ana arches her body toward me, and there’s a mixture of both fear and excitement in her gaze as it meets mine. She’s not wearing a bra, so her full, beautiful tits are in my hands the second I lean up and free her body from her singlet. I close my mouth over one nipple, gently biting down on the pink flesh. She moans.

  “I should make you mad more often.”

  “No, you really shouldn’t.”

  “I don’t know. The make-up sex is always a little more intense.”

  “You want intense, baby girl?”

  She nods, and gives me a devilish smile as she strips off her underwear.

  “Close your eyes,” I command. She does as I ask, and I pull the top sheet out from underneath her, tearing the edge with my teeth and ripping through the soft cotton. Ana’s eyes spring open and she leans up on her elbows. She’s horrified.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she yells. “Those are two thousand thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets.”

  “Do I look like I give a flying fuck about your bed sheets? Close your eyes, and lie back on the bed. I’m not going to ask you again.”

  My tone brooks no argument, and she immediately lies back, though I know she’s fuming about her fucking sheets because her hands clutch the mattress when I begin tearing again.

  She opens her eyes, and shoots me an irritated glare. “Do you really have to—”

  “Ana, baby, not another word,” I warn.

  I continue ripping the sheets into ribbons, and Ana glares at me the whole time. “I told you to close your eyes.”

  “What if I like watching you?” she asks playfully, stretching her leg up to glide the sole of her foot over my chest. The view is fucking incredible. Her pussy is pink and wet, and I have to take a deep breath to avoid sinking myself inside her too soon. I take hold of her ankle and run my fingers over the soft flesh of her arch, down her tanned calf to her inner thigh. I stop just before I reach her gorgeous pussy. She pouts.

  Climbing up on the bed, I take her wrist in my hands. She tries to skim her palm down my chest, but I hold her away from my naked torso. “I don’t want you to see a thing. I don’t want you to touch a thing.” I place her arm gently back on the bed above her head, so it’s resting on the pillow. Taking her other wrist, I place it beside the first, and wrap the soft cotton around them, binding them together and fixing them to the headboard, tightly. “I only want you to feel. I’m going to make you forget anyone else exists, Ana.”

  She lets out a shaky breath, her hips rocking back into the mattress. “I forget other men exist the second you look at me.”

  “Keep your pretty mouth shut or I’ll bind that, too. The only sound I want to hear from your lips are your screams when I make you come over and over again.”

  Her mouth opens, probably to protest, but I press my index finger against her lips and her tongue darts out to taste it. I plunge two fingers inside, and she sucks them like she would my cock. I’m so hard I could cut fucking diamonds.

  I take my fingers from her mouth, trail my hands over her tits and down the centre of her body to her pussy, where I delve a finger inside. Then I add another. Her hips rock up off the mattress to meet my hands. She moans.

  Fuck me. I could very well lose my shit right here without ever removing my dick from my pants. I twist my fingers inside her warmth, pulling them all the way out before thrusting back inside. I lay my free hand over the mound of her pussy, applying just enough pressure for her G-spot to sit up and pay attention. Her hips are rocking back and forth in time with my thrusts, and she’s panting like a bitch in heat.

  Two more strokes and I could have her completely, but I’m not ready for the teasing to be over yet, so I yank my hands from her body and plunge my fingers back in her mouth. Her eyes fly open in shock, but she sucks them clean anyway. Her breathing is hurried, her body sweating and burning up beneath my hands. I ease my fingers from her hot little mouth and lift another strip of binding from the bed. Ana stares at me in confusion.

  “Not my legs,” she whispers and I see fear slide behind her gaze. This is not a new
thing for us. She hates to have her legs pinned. It’s fine if I’m on top and she can wrap them around my hips, and she doesn’t even mind when I wedge her between me and the couch and take her from behind, but she won’t even entertain the idea of letting me bind them. Truth be told, I’d rather her keep them free anyway. Binding a woman’s legs limits too much. I could give two shits about tying her up that way.

  “Not your legs,” I agree softly. “You okay?”

  She nods. Her cheeks are pink, her eyes glassy, and dark with desire. She seems together enough, but I’m torn between wanting to push all her boundaries and wanting to just wrap her up in my arms and protect her from her demons.

  “You need me to stop, baby girl?”

  “No,” she breathes.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  I wrap the binding between my fists, and lean over her body. I place the soft strip over her eyes, and she lifts her head so that I can tie it neatly at the nape of her neck. I ease her head back on the pillow and run my fingers down the side of her face and neck, stopping to pinch her pink nipple between my thumb and forefinger. Ana’s mouth opens with a gasp.

  I shift to the end of the bed, parting her legs, and sliding my hands between them. I circle my thumb over her clit, and she arches up on the bed once more. I lean in, close enough for her to feel my breath on that fucking gorgeous cunt. Close enough to smell her sweet scent. I dart my tongue out and lick from arsehole to clit, delving into her sweetness, tasting every beautiful drop of arousal she has to give. She inhales as I pull her into my mouth. Her legs shake when I intensify the pressure.

  I keep it up for a bit, sucking and releasing her clit, biting, stroking and alternating between feather-like caresses and punishing lashes of my tongue. When I feel she’s close to tripping over the edge, I stop my onslaught and move off the bed. Ana lets out a frustrated groan. I lightly slap her thigh in response.