Sunday, 10 November 2013

Sunday Snog - Sexy as Hell

Welcome to Sunday Snog, this week a steamy kiss, that's not on the lips, taken from book #2 of The Sexy as Hell Trilogy.

In The Player things get pretty mixed up between our hero, Victor, and heroine, Zara. Add in splash of jealousy, a lot of dominance and some other characters to stir the emotional soup and the flames of desire are soon burning everyone! This moment is taken from when the foursome arrive in their luxury villa in Tuscany and is told from Zara's point of view.

I flicked the lock on the door, swept my fingertip over a highly polished cabinet that held a bunch of flowers, then admired a picture above it of an orgy scene—it was tasteful, nothing too much on show, just several Rubenesque figures feeding each other fruit beneath a tree.
“Shit a brick,” Ollie said, flinging open a set of French doors. “We’ve got a balcony.”
“Really?” I strutted over, barged past him and onto the balcony. “It’s like a scene from fucking Romeo and Juliette.”
Ollie shoved a chair out of the way and leaned over the brickwork. “It’s even got trails of ivy hanging down,” he said, “just like in the movie.”
I breathed deep, loving the fresh, smog-free air that filled my lungs. It made me feel alive, free, almost happy. I glanced over the balcony, wondering what it would be like to have been Juliette with Romeo beneath, calling to her, telling her of his undying love.
A giggle burst from me. How stupid was I? That was a story, someone’s imagination. Stuff like that didn’t really happen.
“What’s so funny?’ Ollie asked. Sunlight was catching in his dark hair, lightening the tips to a shiny, conker shade. His blue eyes seemed bluer. Not as stunning as Victor’s, but the sky was enhancing the pigment
“It’s just…nice,” I said, indicating the lake and then sweeping my hand in the direction of a layered garden that rose then fell, lifting again before turning into an olive grove. “I think it’ll be good to be here for a week.”
“It’s what you wanted, Mistress,” Ollie said. He shot up his eyebrows, as if silently asking for his reward. 
I tutted. For that gesture he could wait. In fact, he could do something for me.
I slipped off my boots and then yanked at my jeans. Sat heavily in the bucket chair and opened my legs, exposing my turquoise lacy knickers. The cool air nipped my thighs, but the chair was cushioned and hugged my back nicely. 
It was the perfect position for an orgasm.
“Lick my cunt, Ollie,” I said, not caring that the meandering breeze would wend my words through the old boughs of the olive trees, no doubt shocking them right to their roots.
“Yes, Mistress.” Ollie grinned and dropped to his knees.
A picture of Victor’s face when I’d given the same order that first night of his training flashed across my mind. Unlike Ollie, he’d been stunned—too stunned to move, barely able to speak. But if he hadn’t reacted like I was a poisonous cobra, would he have ever become my student? Would I be here now, helping him?
I knew the answer to that was no.
I lifted my hips and let Ollie tug off my knickers. The sensation of the weak winter sun dribbling onto my skin and the shift of the cool air around my pussy made me greedy for a hot, eager mouth.
“I like it firm,” I said, spreading my legs wider still, “on my clit and in my pussy, and don’t stop until I tell you to.”
“Yes, Mistress, I understand, Mistress.”
Oh, he was annoying me again now. But he had a willing tongue in his head so he’d do. I shut my eyes, hoping he wouldn’t speak again. He shouldn’t, not if he did as he was told. But knowing Ollie…
“You’re so pretty,” he said, “the perfect pussy, and all shaved and neat and pink and—”
“Shut the fuck up, Ollie, and lick my cunt. And if you speak again that strap-on will be staying in the suitcase all week.”
The look on his face told me that was something he absolutely didn’t want to happen. Ollie had got into anal play with supersonic speed. Mind you, most blokes did once you got them going.
I slipped forward a little on the chair, sighed and stared out at the garden as the tip of Ollie’s tongue found my clit and he eased a couple of fingers into my wet entrance.
“That’s it, build up the pressure,” I said, gripping the arms of the chair. “I don’t want it to take too long, though, it’s been a busy day.”
He nodded, but because that didn’t interrupt the rhythm he’d started, I didn’t slap him around the head.
Contentment weaved its way around me. Denseness began to grow between my legs and in the pit of my belly, a heavy weight I knew would lift off and release soon.
A sudden, trilling voice snapped me from my holiday moment. It came from just below our balcony.
“Victor, baby, this way to the lake, come on.” There was a pause and a hiccup. “I’ve got so much to show you.”
I groaned. Ollie took it as a sign of his prowess in the oral department and sped up.
Bloody Catherine.
“I’m just coming,” Victor’s voice, a little weary, a lot tense. “You go ahead, I’m a few seconds behind you.”
Ollie caught my G-spot. I sucked in a breath, fought the urge to let my eyes roll back. Damn, he’d got that just right. A good, deep, come-hither action. Who’d have thought it?
I heard the crunch of feet on gravel, failed to hold in a moan as Ollie suckled on my clit.
The footsteps paused.
“Oh, yes, that’s it, lick me again,” I demanded loudly so Victor would hear. “Add another finger.”
Ollie did as he’d been told, moaning as he lapped wetly at me, the tip of his tongue providing just the right amount of pressure to take me on a pre-orgasm ride.
“What the fuck did I do to deserve this?” I heard Victor mutter. The noisy footsteps started up again.
Sod him. It was his loss. He’d had the chance to lick my cunt way back when. Oh, I’d given him the merest of tastes since, but still, he’d lost his opportunity, that boat had sailed.
Ollie continued to work hard. I tensed my thighs against the tops of his arms, curled my toes on the floor. 
“Yes, that’s it, keep going,” I said on a sigh.
The gravelly footsteps had stopped again. I opened my eyes and spotted Catherine coming into view on the first rise of the lawn. I didn’t move or concern myself. There was no way she could see Ollie from that angle, or from any point in the large shrub-filled garden. I imagined the most she could see would be my shoulders and head.
I stared at her as she flicked her hair and swayed slightly. Victor appeared and she reached for his hand, rested her head on his shoulder.
My stomach tensed, my orgasm was beginning to crest. I panted and ran my left hand through Ollie’s hair, kept his head firmly where it was. “Yes, yes, that’s it, a bit faster… you’re doing so well.”
I kept my gaze fixed on the two figures near the end of the garden. Catherine was gesturing around, as if pointing out dull features and trivial facts.
Suddenly she turned, the breeze catching the mumsy skirt she wore. I heard her say something, but she was too far away for me to catch it, plus my concentration was on other things—my need for release.
She waved enthusiastically. “Zara,” she called. “Hi, over here.”
I shifted my hips upwards, jammed Ollie’s face downwards. Stared at Victor as he, too, looked at me. The wind lifted his hair and pressed his shirt to the hard planes of his torso. I wondered if his cock was bulging. If knowing I was up here with Ollie’s obedient tongue between my legs had turned him on.
I raised my right arm. It was struggle; my body felt light and floaty, heavy and dense all at the same time.
“Zara,” Catherine called again.
“Victor,” I gasped as I came, my attention not leaving him even as my climax shattered around me and through me, robbing my breath and flipping my heart like a bouncing ball.

As you can tell, there's an awful lot going on here and the dynamics between the characters are shifting around at a rate of knots.

If you'd like to find out more about Sexy as Hell and read the free magazine, check out the Harlem Dae website. It's also worth pointing out that the box set is at a bargain price at the moment, $1.24/77p for the three novels that make up the trilogy PLUS three bonus spin-off stories about the secondary characters! It won't be this price for long so if it's tickled your fancy go grab your box! Though be warned, it's not for the faint of heart.

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