Hot Holida Treats

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  “Delia,” he breathed against her lips, “if this is a thank you or you feel you have to—”

  “It’s not. I want this.” She slid her hand up his arm, his neck and then curled her fingers in his hair. “I think, deep down, I’ve always wanted this.” She pressed her lips to his. He’d always burned for her, but the inferno spearing his veins as her tongue slid against his was enough to turn him to ash. Their tongues tangled and he had to fight the urge to devour every inch of her, for fear of scaring her away.

  When yipping noises sounded beside them, Delia pulled away and looked over her shoulder. “They’re dreaming.” She leveled a lustful gaze on him. “Your room?”

  No hesitation from him. He pulled her into his lap and flashed them to his bed. Pinning her beneath him, he said, “Tell me what you want, Delia. I want you to have anything you want.”

  Grabbing his hair and pulling his lips to hers was the only answer she gave. He thrust his tongue into her into her mouth. When she moaned and ground against him, he let go of all reservations. He was hungry—no, ravenous—and her body was the only thing that could satisfy his craving.

  She tugged at his shirt, freeing it from his waist band and slid her hands across the skin of his lower back. He groaned into her mouth. Her soft hands on his bare skin inflamed him and he needed more. All. Everything.

  When he pushed away from her, she grabbed at him. “What—” she started, distress lacing her voice, but when he ripped his shirt off, she gasped, eyes devouring every inch of him. She sat up and ran her hands down his chest and abdomen, then quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. She helped him shuck out of them and before he knew what she was about, her luscious, wet mouth closed around the head of his cock. His body buckled at the sensation.

  “Delia,” he choked out, “no.”

  She sucked him to the back of her throat, her fingers digging into his hips. Good gods, the female brought him to his knees, demolished his control. Her sexual energy slammed into him, charged him, like no other he’d known. Digging deep, he found the willpower to pull from her sumptuous mouth.

  “Why?” she gasped.

  “Your touch is too much. You undo me. And if I don’t taste you soon, I’ll perish.”

  “Yes,” she breathed and struggled to free herself from her dress. With his help, it was on the floor in seconds, leaving her naked and splayed out on his silken sheets. Just as he’d imagined so many times. But the reality was much more fantastical than the fantasy.

  “Gods, Delia. You’re the most enchanting creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  “Shut up, demon. Touch me.” She brazenly spread her legs wide, her glistening cunt making him salivate.

  He’d be offended by the demon comment, but her tone held only lust, no malice. Bracing himself on his forearms, he licked her lips then trailed his tongue down her chest and between the swell of her breasts. He lightly tongued one nipple to a taut peak before capturing it between his teeth and nipping lightly.

  Her hands fisted his hair as he swept wet kisses down her stomach. She tasted sweeter than honey.

  ❄ ❄ ❄

  Cordelia writhed beneath Argoth’s hot, skilled tongue. Her nerve endings sizzled with every kiss, every lick, every touch. When his tongue flicked her swollen clit, she shot upright, almost coming apart right then.

  “Relax,” he breathed against her wetness.

  Closing his lips around her clit, he alternated sucking and licking. He pressed his tongue as far inside her as was possible, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Needed more. If he didn’t give it to her soon, she swore she’d combust.

  She yanked his hair, but he ignored her and continued his assault of her pussy. “Argoth, please. I need you inside me.”

  He looked up, his silver eyes flashing with a feral lust that made her shiver. His voice was ragged when he demanded, “Say it again.”

  “I need you inside me now,” she choked out.

  He was on her in an instant. His hard length pressing against her wet opening. “I’ve waited too long to hear those words from you.”

  In one swift thrust, he filled her completely. They both gasped when a surge of electricity cracked between them. They stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity before he moved inside her. Her nails scored his back as she met each thrust with wild abandon.

  Her entire body was a mass of knotted muscles, sizzling nerves. The pressure between her legs built, intensifying, until she splintered, shattered. “Oh fuck, Argoth,”

  She didn’t know if it was the mind-fracturing climax playing tricks on her eyes, but she’d swear Argoth’s entire body flared with a silvery glow. His body stilled, a euphoric look on his face as sweat beaded on his forehead. Then he kissed her while pumping into her with a ferocity she couldn’t keep up with. She just hung on, wrapped her legs around his waist and enjoyed the ride.

  His muscles tensed. One last thrust and he ripped his mouth from hers, roaring like a wild animal as his seed pulsed into her. And then she knew what he’d felt during her climax.

  A whirlwind of crackling electricity filled her—every pore, every organ, every vein, every muscle. She could feel him, his pleasure as if it were her own and it enthralled her, energized her, made her soul sing. A silvery-blue glow danced above her skin and she’d never felt more alive, more enraptured than in that instant.

  Argoth collapsed beside her and pulled her to him. They lay there panting, clinging to each other for long moments.

  “Good gods, Delia. Did you feel that?”

  She nodded against his chest. “Did I…Did you…Did we feed on each other? Was that the glow?”

  He tilted her chin up so that he could see her face. “Indeed.” When she frowned, he was quick to reassure her. “It’s necessary and it’s incredibly pleasurable for both parties. You’ll get used to the idea.”

  After the insane pleasure she’d just experienced, she didn’t doubt it. “Why didn’t it happen the other times I had sex?”

  A low rumble sounded in his chest. “I’m sure it did to a lesser extent. Now, no more mention of your past sexual escapades. I just experienced jealousy for the first time in my existence, and I don’t enjoy it.”

  He was jealous? Why did that make her heart skip a beat? She flipped over on her stomach to get a better look at his face. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously and although I should be offended by the smug grin on your face, it warms me to know my possessive feelings give you pleasure.”

  “Am I supposed to be jealous of your other lovers?”

  “I’d be hurt if you weren’t.” He plastered the most handsome mock-pout on his face, she couldn’t help but laugh. “But, there will be no others if—”

  “If what?” she urged, both desperate to hear the words and scared to death to hear them.

  “If you’ll stay with me. Be mine, Delia. I know you’re still adjusting—that this is new, but consider it. I’ve been around a long time and you’re the first I’ve asked to be mine.”

  Yep, scared to death. How could she commit to being his or anyone’s when she’d fought so hard for so long to be independent? But how could she not when the idea of leaving him knotted her stomach, felt so wrong?

  “I want you. I…I care for you. But I can’t be dependent on you. I need a purpose, a job. I want to help with scouting, help you find your sister. I want to help free the others like me. I need to do that. I can’t just be yours.”

  He stroked his thumb across her cheek. “Of course. We’ll talk out all the details after…”

  “After what?”

  Hooking his hands beneath her arms, he effortlessly pulled her on top of him and with a deft shift of his hips, slipped inside her. She gasped, her body shuddering as she ground against him with slow, torturous gyrations. She’d never felt more alive than when she was with him and couldn’t imagine not having him in her life.

  His half-lidded silver eyes flashed as he gripped her hips. “Merry Christmas, Delia.” />
  His strained voiced sent shivers down her spine. “Merry Christmas, Argoth.”

  ❄ The End ❄

  Meet Jocelyn Dex

  Jocelyn Dex is a multi-published author of erotic paranormal romance and sizzling contemporary romance. She resides in hot-as-hell Texas and shares her home with her very own six-foot-four alpha male and varying numbers of spoiled cats and dogs.

  She thinks dragonflies are awesome, spiders are creepy and it’s rumored that she sleeps with a machete by her bed in case zombies attack in the middle of the night.

  Jocelyn’s romances include humor, lust, love, and four-letter words on the way to a Happily-Ever-After. Visit Jocelyn @ http://www.JocelynDex.com

  Other Titles by Jocelyn Dex

  Paranormal Romance

  Araya’s Addiction, Sempire Seductions, Book 1

  Valia’s Villain, Sempire Seductions, Book 2

  Fin’s Fantasy, Sempire Seductions, Book 3

  Contemporary Romance

  Belize Nights

  Lying for Love

  FURRY CHRISTMAS

  ❄

  Sotia Lazu

  Alice hates Christmas, and this year is no exception. She's spending the holidays alone with her best friend's cat, while everyone she knows is out partying. As if that's not enough, a huge stray dog just made a mess of her parents’ living room, and her dreams are haunted by the sexy stranger she slept with almost six months ago.

  Quinn wasn’t always a dog. At least that’s what he thinks, but he can’t say for sure, because the killer migraines kick in. His collar reads Prince Charming, and he may turn out to be just that, if only he manages to remember that one important thing in time for— He’s not really sure.

  All Quinn’s sure of is he knows Alice. All Alice needs to do is believe in magic.

  And they’re both running out of time.

  Chapter One

  Alice couldn’t see the use of Christmas. Or New Year’s, to be perfectly honest. She had no room in her apartment for a tree, no use for annoying little lights, and no tolerance for carols—or carolers, thank you very much.

  And the movies… Gah! Sappy happy endings all around, meant to fool the innocent. Good thing Alice hadn’t been innocent in a while.

  She had been once. She’d been seven and full of dreams, waiting up for Santa. Santa hadn’t shown his bearded face, but she’d seen her dad sneak down the stairs, carrying an armful of wrapped packages. When he’d placed them under the Christmas tree, she’d tiptoed back to her bedroom and asked her older sister about it.

  “Santa isn’t real. Mom and Dad said I can’t tell you, but I suppose it’s okay now,” Amanda had said with all the wisdom of her ten years, and little Alice’s heart shattered into a million little pieces. Not only was there no Santa, but her entire family had been lying to her too.

  Her heart mended in the years since, of course. Until that idiot Joss Cavanaugh broke things off with her on Christmas day for Nicole Harding, when Alice was fourteen.

  And then, last New Year’s Eve, her latest boyfriend, Dorian, told her he just wasn’t feeling it any longer. Something about falling in love with his brother’s secretary. Alice had really thought he was the one, but she’d obviously been wrong.

  If she were superstitious, she’d think the holidays were cursed. Now she just thought they sucked. Big time.

  Take this year, for example: she was house-sitting for her parents, who were celebrating their thirty-five year wedding anniversary with a six-week trip around Europe. Amanda was spending the last week of the year with her sexy live-in boyfriend, and Alice’s friends were all coupled up. Alice had had a couple flings since Dorian, but didn’t feel like contacting any of those guys to keep her company.

  She changed the channel and landed on a close-up of Jim Carrey, wearing what looked like a furry pear-shaped frog costume, and grinning maniacally.

  “The Grinch is vastly underappreciated,” Alice told the empty living room.

  A bolt of lightning lit up the night sky, and thunder boomed in its wake. “Dude, that was close.” And unless she stopped talking to herself, she was a cat away from becoming a crazy cat lady.

  Speaking of cats, Ms. Thing jumped on the back of the couch and strolled along its length before landing on Alice’s left shoulder. “Meow,” Ms. Thing said very matter-of-factly.

  “Yeah, you’re not a scaredy cat at all, are you?” Alice pulled the jumpy feline on her lap and stroked her under the chin. The cat purred, but her ears didn’t stop twitching. At the next thunderbolt, she tried to climb inside Alice’s pajama top.

  “Hey! Stop that!” What had she been thinking, agreeing to look after a cat for her sister’s best friend, on top of everything? She didn’t even know how Becca had talked her into that. Alice held the fluff-ball at arm’s length. Ms. Thing twitched in obvious panic, and Alice let her land on the floor. Instead of trying to hide under the couch, the cat ran for the kitchen.

  With a groan, Alice left her cozy sleeved blanket behind and rushed after her, hoping all cabinet doors were shut. Last time Ms. Thing had gone hiding in a cupboard, retrieving her had been a two-person operation.

  “Come on, Ms. Thing, I’ll give you tuna. Just don’t make me have to look for you.”

  Something crashed outside, and Alice heard what sounded like scratching coming from the direction of the front door. The uncharacteristically harsh storm had to have toppled over a trash can, but there was no way Alice was going out in the rain to check.

  “2014 cannot go away fast enough,” she muttered.

  Ms. Thing stood at the center of the kitchen table like a fluffy white vase.

  “You’re one weird kitty.” Alice tucked her under her arm and returned to the living room.

  The scratching reached Alice’s ears again. It was too persistent to be caused by scattered garbage. Had she accidentally stepped onto the set of the next Scary Movie?

  Not letting go of the cat, she tiptoed to the door. “Whoever this is, better be holding pizza!” she called out. Maybe Amanda and Derek had decided to surprise her. She turned on the porch light and looked out through the peep hole, but saw no one. Anticlimactic. Still, the scratching continued.

  Something had to have fallen outside the door. She opened it just a couple of inches, but the wind blew against it hard enough that Alice had to take a step back.

  And then the world’s biggest, wettest, dirtiest dog pushed past her and into the middle of her parents’ living room.

  Ms. Thing dug her claws into Alice’s arm and, when Alice loosened her hold, practically flew back toward the kitchen.

  Traitor.

  Alice watched in horror as mud dripped on the previously spotless carpet. “No! Bad dog!” she shrieked.

  The dog stopped on his tracks and turned to look at her.

  Alice froze. The realization that she was alone—she obviously couldn’t really count on Ms. Thing for help—with a humongous stray sank in. She’d yelled at a dog the size of a frigging bear. What was she thinking? The dog was in new surroundings. He might be jittery. What if he was getting ready to attack? She’d always loved dogs, had even helped at a shelter during college, and she knew their fear could turn into aggression if they felt cornered.

  She held out both arms loosely, palms facing upward, and tried to make her body posture as non-threatening as possible. “Okay, good boy. Wait right there until…” Until? What brilliant solution could she come up with? And where had Ms. Thing gone? Alice should really go after the cat, but the dog might be feral.

  The dog wagged its tail and gave her a doggie smile. Yeah, a real killer.

  “Until I get a towel,” Alice said. She’d take it one step at a time. Whatever the dog’s disposition might be, he was filthy, and her mother would kill her if he stained the carpet permanently. She looked at the far right corner of the room, where the tree she’d stubbornly refused to decorate stood. “And please don’t lift a leg!”

  The dog gave what she assumed was the doggie equiva
lent of a shrug, and Alice backtracked toward the ground floor powder room. “Good doggie. Wait there, and I’ll—”

  She didn’t get to finish her promise to give him a treat, as the dog chose that moment to shake the gunk off himself and onto everything else, including all over Alice.

  “Oh my God. Eww!” The dog had sent sludge and germs flying all over her, and Alice wanted nothing more than to run to the bathroom and overindulge on germicide. She couldn’t leave, though. Not while the four legged menace stood there.

  “Out. Now!” She pointed at the still open door. The dog’s ears fell, but to her amazement, he started toward the exit. When he reached Alice, he licked her hand.

  “Ah, shit.” The rain was at its worse, and she was sending this poor, adorable, bear-sized dog out in it. He wouldn’t survive the night if she threw him out. Well, he probably would, but he wouldn’t enjoy it. “Wait. Stay. Sit.”

  The dog looked at her over its shoulder, one front paw hovering mid-air.

  “Get back in here, you mutt. I’ll decide what to do with you in the morning.”

  The dog spun around faster than she’d thought possible and ran straight for her. He never slowed down. Not even when he jumped up and tossed her to the ground.

  Alice was covered by a hundred and sixty pounds of filthy, shaggy dog, getting her face thoroughly licked, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard.

  When the dog finally let her up, she reached for his neck. There, caked in mud and hidden by strands of matted fur, was a collar with a bone-shaped ID-tag. She scraped the metal surface with a thumb nail. It read Prince Charming.

  Oh, the irony.

  The dog sat back and let her use him as a prop until she was back on her feet.

  “If you’re spending the night, we need to give you a good grooming,” she said, kicking the door shut.

  He whined, but followed her to the bathroom upstairs. “Wait here.” She rolled up the bathroom mat and took it out of the room before closing the door behind her. She’d clean up the mess downstairs, find the damned cat, and then do whatever it took to get the dog back to a princely state.

 

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