Sunday Snog

Welcome Sunday Snoggers - here's a few lines from Bite Mark, coming soon from Ellora's Cave. This scene is set in central London early on a foggy, dank morning. Beatrice, who works as a butcher's girl, has followed the mysterious but gorgeous Aimery through the back streets and alleys because she suspects he knows something about her missing best friend. At this point she's been invited into his old, wood panelled office to warm up in front of the fire with a cup of sweet tea…

I shook my head. “No, he would never have left without saying goodbye. We were close, best friends.”

“But not lovers?” Aimery said.

“No, absolutely not.” I was shocked by the question and fiddled with the base of the mug, sliding my fingertip around the smooth pottery. “I just told you Denny is—”

“I know, gay. But maybe he met someone and was swept off his feet, whisked away into the sunset.”

“Do you really think so…ouch!”

“What.” He was on his knees before me, reaching for my right hand.

“Bloody hell, that’s sharp,” I said, watching a ruby blob of blood grow on the tip of my index finger.

He wrapped his hand around my wrist and tugged my arm straight so he could examine my wound.

“The base of this mug is chipped.” I lifted it and glanced at the smear of blood on the shiny surface. “It has a lethal bit sticking out of it.”

“Hardly lethal.” He cocked one eyebrow and swept his tongue over his bottom lip. “But I’m sorry that had to cause you pain.”

“Had to?” I frowned and tried to pull my wrist from his grip.

He kept a tight hold, his cool fingers keeping my hand still and hovering before his face.

“Hey, I—”

“Please,” he said almost on a pant, “allow me.” He leaned forward, shut his eyes and wrapped his lips around my bleeding digit.

Instantly I was aware of powerful suction, his tongue soft but firm as he took my entire finger into his mouth, knuckle deep.

“What are you do…?” My words cut off as tingling warmth spread up my arm. It seeped into my chest, spiking my nipples and creating a heavy weight low down inside of me.

He continued to suck, his cheeks hollowing and his eyes shut tight as though succumbing to ecstasy. My hand felt on fire, but not painfully so, it was good heat, heat that was now burning up my arm and flooding my stomach, my pelvis, oh God, and my pussy.

I squirmed on the seat, captivated by the sensation but also needing to be free of it.

“Aimery,” I gasped. “Please—”

He slid his hand from my wrist to my elbow, bunching my sweater and keeping a tight hold of me.

I felt trapped, pinned in place, but I didn’t mind. His mouth, his tongue, the soft gulping noises he was making as though drinking greedily was mesmerizing. And my pussy, the heat was intense, the pressure building. My clit was pressing against the gusset of my knickers and in turn against the seam of my jeans.

A small groan weaved its way through my throat. He responded my placing his other hand on my thigh, and smoothing it upward to the juncture of my legs and pressing against my clothing.

“Ah, oh, oh, what is happ—” I couldn’t speak another word. A small, trembling orgasm was ravishing me. Darts of pleasure burst outward from my pussy, clenching my gut and curling my toes. I screwed my eyes shut, slumped back in the chair and dropped my head down.

As the spasms faded I was aware of the heat in my chest, arm and hand subsiding. I opened my eyes and re-focused.

Aimery was staring at me. His pupils were enormous. He kept a tight hold of my wet finger; the end now pale and the slit in my skin void of blood.

“Just as I suspected. You are truly an exquisite find,” he said.

“What, what just happened?” I was being treated to quivering, orgasmic aftershocks and my breath was a little hard to catch.

“You have a very rare blood type,” he said, cocking his head and again licking his lips.

Coming soon after Bite Mark - Claw Mark!