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

by Pepper Winters

  The sight of Ash taking me from behind was shattering. I didn’t want it to end. Nobody had ever given me what I wanted during sex. I craved to be slapped, fucked and bitten. I wanted to be fucked from behind, against a wall, on my knees, on my back, bent over and taken. Did he know this was what I needed? If not, I better fucking tell him.

  “Harder,” I panted, sweat dripping from my forehead. “I want to watch you fuck me harder. I want to feel your cock pound into me. Fuck me. Fuck. Me.”

  With a growl, Ash straightened up, slapping me on the ass, my skin blooming with a million sharp needles before he palmed the tender spot, soothing.

  “Ren,” he moaned, not slowing his onslaught on my pussy. “I can give you hard. I can give you whatever you want.”

  His hands gripped my hips as I thrust back into him. He guided my pussy over his cock, our skin slapping as we joined together over and over. My gaze never left the mirror, watching him fuck me, possess me, make me feel something other than abandoned. He filled me with more than his cock, he gave me more than the orgasm that was building inside me … the orgasm that was building too fast. I was close, so fucking close to getting what I wanted from him so desperately. Sweet, fucking release.

  “Fuck, Ren,” Ash grunted, his fingers finding my clit and rubbing. The motion tipped me over the edge and my pussy convulsed around his cock as my orgasm hit, making my elbows buckle.

  I panted his name as he slammed harder and harder into me, the only thing keeping me upright was his hands on my hips. My muscles tightened, urging him to fall with me. Fall with me.

  Finally, Ash moaned loudly as his release spurted, fingers digging into my hips. I felt his cum erupt hot and hard and I convulsed, spots blurring my vision. Sweet fucking hell. This orgasm was breaking me. I was his. I was so fucking his I almost hated him.

  Ash buried his cock deep one last time and held my spent body against his as he spilled the last of his orgasm into me with a grunt that seemed to echo around the studio.

  Staring up at him in the mirror, I was mesmerized by the look on his face. Enraptured. That’s what his expression looked like. He’'d fucked me like an animal and he was enraptured.

  When he pulled out, he tugged me down to the mat, holding me tightly against his hard, naked body. Our chests heaved in tandem and neither of us could speak. Really, who the fuck could be coherent after that?

  Squirming, the spot between my legs already felt tender. Slick and tender. I’d feel him for days. I didn’t want to stop feeling him. I wanted to go again and by the feel of his semi-erect cock against my ass, so did he.

  Lips brushed my shoulder as our sweat began to tack on our bodies, our breathing evening out. I didn’t want this to end. After weeks of teasing, fighting, pushing each other away … “Don’t let me go,” I whispered.

  Ash's hand glided down my waist, over my hip and hooked around my knee. With one graceful movement, he tugged my leg up and over his, opening me wide enough to rub his cock through my slick folds.

  “I want you again, Spitfire,” he murmured, nibbling at my neck. “So fucking sweet. So fucking responsive. You like coming on my cock?”

  Moaning, I rubbed my ass against him, urging his cock toward my opening. Fuck, this man. What had he awoken in me?

  I knew the answer to that one as I felt the head of his hot length dip just inside. A sexual deviant. A glutton for pleasure and pain and everything before, after and in between. He told me he wouldn’t be able to let me go once he’d tasted my body. That sentiment went both ways.

  “You like that?” he asked. “You like the way I fucked you?”

  Reaching a hand behind me, I grabbed his ass cheek, digging my nails into flesh. Rolling my hips back, I urged his cock deeper. He thrust hard, hitting home with a grunt that shuddered through his entire body.

  “I belong here,” he moaned, sinking his teeth into my shoulder and circling his hips.

  “Mine,” I gasped, clenching as hard as I could, trying to make a point.

  Fingers found my clit and pinched. “Mine.”

  He fucked me from behind in long, steady strokes, our eyes connecting again through the mirror. Hands palmed my breasts, pinching nipples as we watched the place where we joined so completely. It was anything but vanilla. I doubted it would ever be boring where Ash was concerned.

  Teeth sunk into my shoulder again, the pain adding to the sensation as he picked up the pace. Two orgasms? Two? As I started to wonder if I could take it after the first, I felt myself teetering on the edge. The fall was going to shatter me again.

  “Ash,” I panted, my gaze fixed on his. “I’m close.”

  “So am I, Spitfire.” His fingers found my clit again and my entire body shuddered against his. “That’s it,” he whispered in my ear. “Let go, Ren. Let me give you want you want. Take it.”

  His words sent me reeling over the edge of another orgasm, and I let it take me, not giving a shit what I looked like or what I was saying. I let the sensation wash over every nerve ending and rode what felt like a tsunami.

  Ash started fucking me hard as I came, his cock slamming home again and again until his own release joined mine. He buried his face into the crook of my neck, his grunts muffled in my hair, arms holding my body tight against his.

  Complete. I felt fucking complete. It was the weirdest sensation I’d ever felt, but it was mine and I was going to keep it. I was going to keep Ash and fuck if he had a choice about it. Two could play at this alpha game.

  As we started to come back to earth and leave the stars behind, he pulled out and turned me over in his arms, lips finding mine.

  Sex was a poor word to describe what we just did. There were no words, but I had a feeling we didn’t need them.

  Read more from Amity Cross’s novel Beat (The Beat and The Pulse, #1). She also invites you to subscribe to her mailing list for alerts on new releases.

  About Beat (The Beat and The Pulse, #1)…

  Renee "Ren" Miller was five when her Dad left to go to the shops and never came back.

  Left to grow up with a cancer riddled mother, things have never been easy for a teenager who had to be wise beyond her years. Then one day they lose the battle and she’s all alone.

  Now twenty-two, Ren reluctantly goes to find her estranged father. He owns the down and out boxing studio, Beat, and Ren finds herself drawn to the ring. She thrives on learning a new way of fighting a life that kept kicking her down…instead of struggling against the current, she kicks it right between the legs.

  Then one day, Ash Fuller, her Dad's star fighter comes back to town. Mysterious, handsome… Dangerous… Everything Ren doesn't need.

  But he's got other ideas…

  …and so does she.

  About Amity Cross…

  Amity Cross isn't her real name. That's no secret.

  She didn't want her Mum and her workplace to find out she wrote about doodles and tongue-in-cheek sexual innuendo.

  She lives in a leafy suburb of Melbourne writing about screwed up relationships and kickass female leads that don't take shit lying down.

  When You're Ready

  The Ready Series, #1

  J.L. Berg

  Logan

  “Clare, how about a round of pool?” I suddenly asked, needing to pull myself out of the funk I was currently swimming in.

  “Pool?” she asked as she finished off the drink she’d been nursing.

  “Oh, it’s OK. I’ll teach you if you can’t play. Come on, it will be fun.” I stood and grabbed her hand. She threw Leah a mischievous grin over her shoulder, and we headed for the pool tables.

  “Do you play a lot?” she asked me, suddenly looking very nervous.

  I grinned. This was going to be fun. I’d never taught a woman how to play pool before.

  “Not a ton anymore, but I use to be fairly good in college,” I admitted.

  “And you’ll go easy on me?”

  “Of course,” I promised, grabbing a pool cue and heading toward an empty table.


  “I’ll go first and break so you can see how it’s done. OK?”

  She nodded, a wry smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. I gathered up all the balls, took my first hit, and scattered balls everywhere. Two stripes landed in the pockets. Not bad for my first turn.

  “OK, so now I’m stripes and you’re solids. It’s your turn. Grab a pool cue behind you,” I instructed. She turned, grabbed a pool cue from the rack and joined me at the table.

  “Like this?” she asked, her mouth now so close to mine I could feel her breath.

  “Yep. Take a shot.” I whispered.

  “Huh?”

  “Your turn, Clare. It’s your turn.” I chuckled.

  “Oh! Right.”

  She took a slow walk around the pool table, looking at every ball, almost like she was surveying every option and angle, like a seasoned pro might do. She finally took her shot, sending two solid balls into the corner pocket.

  She looked up at me, smiling sweetly. “Beginner’s luck, I guess.”

  What the fuck?

  She moved to the other side of the table, took another shot and sank two more.

  Walking up to me, she smiled again, then bent over, giving me a nice view of her ass, sinking one more ball. As she turned around, I pounced, pinning her to the table between my arms.

  “I think I’ve been hustled,” I purred in her ear.

  She giggled, wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me, which made me wish we were anywhere but a crowded bar. She pulled back and I saw the mischief in her eyes. She giggled again and that’s when I realized.

  Clare was kind of drunk.

  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. You looked so eager to teach me,” she laughed, swaying in my arms.

  “How in the world are you so good at pool?” I asked.

  “Ethan. It was how we met,” she explained, her mood light and happy.

  “Leah and I were at this dive bar near campus and we were attempting to play a game of pool. We were already half drunk on beer we’d bought with our fake IDs. Some guys came over asking if they could join us and we said sure. One guy became particularly interested in me, asking if I needed help with my game. He was drunk and smelled God-awful. He tried doing that thing guys do where they lean you over the pool table showing you how to aim.”

  I was so glad I didn’t try that.

  “Anyway, Leah had found a guy she was really into and they were busy making out in the back. I could not get Mr. Grabby Hands to take a hint. Our game was over and it was just me and him standing there alone. Just when I thought I’d have to go hide in the bathroom for the rest of the night, someone spun me around and kissed me. I mean, seriously kissed me. I pulled back, stunned, wondering who I’d just kissed … and there was Ethan. I’d seen him around campus, but never talked to him. He wrapped his arm around me, and looked over at the guy and said, ‘Hey, thanks for looking after my girl, man!’ He walked me home, and that was the beginning.”

  I tried not to flinch hearing her talk about Ethan kissing her, but it wasn’t easy.

  She shrugged, continuing, “Turns out he was there playing pool with his roommates and saw me across the room and just had to help. We went back to that bar all the time and he taught me to play.”

  “He was a good teacher, because you’re kicking my ass,” I confessed. I was glad she was able to tell me something about Ethan without sadness, even if my male pride was slightly wounded. It meant that she was healing, and that gave me hope.

  “Well, I haven’t given you much of a chance,” she admitted.

  We agreed to start over. This time at least I knew what I was up against. We played a few games and she still kicked my ass, but I did manage to win one. Just as we were finishing up, I saw Declan and Leah headed for our table.

  “Hey guys, I think we’re gonna head out.”

  “We?” I asked. That was a surprise. Well, not on Declan’s part, I guess. He had eyes for Leah all night.

  “Yeah. Leah said there’s this old cemetery around here that dates back to the Civil War. I want to sneak in and see it. It might be a great location for us to do a night shoot.”

  “That’s the weirdest and creepiest thing I’ve ever heard,” I told him.

  I really didn’t know what to say. Should I say no, and try and defend Leah’s honor for Clare? Would she get mad if she found out they slept together? I knew Declan. If she left with him, they’d end up in bed together.

  I looked over at Clare, and she was just shaking her head, grinning, looking completely unsurprised. Apparently, I had nothing to worry about.

  “Hey Logan, I’m assuming you can get Clare home?” Leah asked, her face full of humor and mischief.

  “I can absolutely do that,” I answered quickly, glancing over at Clare as she smiled and bit into her lip.

  She looked sexy as hell.

  Shit, she still looked drunk.

  A smiling Leah gave Clare a little wave and walked off with Declan, who gave me the male equivalent—the head nod. Pulling his baseball cap tight, he lowered his head, wrapped an arm around Leah’s waist, and disappeared into the crowd.

  As my eyes returned to Clare, I saw her walk over to the back wall and put away our pool cues. She circled back around to me, slowly and seductively, her eyes filled with desire.

  Oh God, hadn’t I been tempted enough in the last month? Now I had to fend off my drunken girlfriend, all in the name of honor. Being a gentleman sucked ass.

  “Maddie’s at my Mom’s,” she said, pausing to run a finger down my chest, as her eyes bored into mine.

  “All. Night.” She punctuated each word, making her wicked intentions clear.

  Yes.

  All gentlemanly thoughts rushed out of my head and were replaced by two words.

  Fuck, yes.

  My entire body screamed yes as it came to full attention. I pulled her by the arm, dragging us out of the bar as fast as humanly possible. Once outside, I quickly walked us to my car in the parking lot, grateful I had a space toward the back in a low-lit area. Bad for thievery. Good for what I have planned.

  “Get in the back,” I demanded.

  “We’re not going to your place?” she asked, opening the back door and slipping inside.

  Joining her, I closed the door. “If I take you home with me, Clare, I’m going to fuck you. Repeatedly,” I said, taking a deep breath. “But you’re drunk.”

  Clare’s confusion quickly turned to shock, letting out a small gasp hearing my bold words, but it was quickly replaced with something else entirely. Desire. “You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me. I know what I’m doing,” she assured me with a shy smile.

  “Oh, I’m not worried about that. I know you want it,” I replied with a wolfish grin, as I ran my hand up her lush thigh.

  “I just want you to remember it. All of it. In vivid, Technicolor clarity. And that can only be achieved if you’re sober. When you and I come together for the first time, I want you to remember every touch,” I ran my hand up her arm and down her back, causing her to shiver. “Every moan.”

  She did just that as I leaned into her body, slowly kissing her neck and tugging on her earlobe with my teeth.

  “Every wave of pleasure,” I ran my thumb over her nipple through her shirt, and gently tugged, causing her to gasp.

  “So what are we doing in the back of the car?” she whispered breathlessly.

  “Making the best of the situation.”

  Clare

  And with those words, he pulled me to his body, capturing my mouth in a soul-searing kiss.

  “Straddle me,” he demanded.

  I didn’t hesitate, placing my knees on either side of his firm body. Raking my hand through his hair, I pulled and weaved my fingers through the thick strands, eliciting a low growl to rumble from his throat.

  His hands were everywhere, roaming up my thighs, on my ass, and under my shirt. Finding my breasts, he gently rubbed my nipples through the fabric of my lace bra, causing a friction that pu
t my body on edge. With one hand, he undid the tie at my neck holding my shirt, letting it slide down to my waist. Logan’s eyes were on fire as they looked me over.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

  Without warning, Logan pulled the lace cups of my strapless bra down, and his mouth was on me, sucking on my nipple, causing me to scream out.

  “Oh God!” I cried, as he rolled my nipple with his tongue, letting it graze across his teeth, gently biting down, which caused me to nearly explode. With his other hand, he kept my body still and pinned to him, so he could start the torture all over again.

  Snaking around to the front of my body, and under my skirt, his hand left my breast to cup my core.

  “Do you want me to make you come, Clare?” he growled.

  “Yes, God, yes,” I begged.

  Answering my plea, he slid my thong aside, spreading me wide with his long fingers.

  “Shit, you’re dripping wet,” he said as he ran a finger lazily over my drenched clit before finally sinking it deep inside me.

  A deep sensual moan erupted from me as he added one more, slowly moving them in and out of my body, making me ache.

  “God, you’re so fucking tight. Ride me, Clare.”

  Following his orders, I placed my hands on his shoulders, rising up and sliding back down again on his stationary hand.

  “That’s it,” he said. “Fuck my fingers.”

  He added one more, thumbing my clit at the same time.

  “Faster,” he commanded, his voice growing rougher by the second.

  That tightness deep in my belly began to build and I could feel my body soaring higher. With his thumb, he flicked my clit, and that was all it took. I came unglued, crying out in pleasure.