I love the day- who doesn't love the sun, except someone who is harmed by sunlight. But the night is so mysterious. It's a little cold but I'm sitting on my balcony typing this. There's something about the smell in the air too- it's from cooking, restaurants, dinners, build up from the day. The sky hasn't got a cloud. I don't see any stars from here- that would make it perfect. But I am just imagining going out for a walk. I used to have these visions of going out and just walking all night through the city, years ago even, no matter what was going on in my life. The day always makes me tired, though I'm sure I would sleep a lot easier if I went for walkies. The night really is like a long, dark, sensual coat. Nights like this I want to have phone sex.
I'm going to post two excerpts. The first from Tina Donahue's Adored which I love. Adam is great. For me to love a book I need to love the heroine too, so that's a given. She is so well written and soulful- like Adam.
"“It heightens the dominance and submission. You know, me surrounded by so many commanding, horny guys.”
If that put him off or surprised him, he didn’t show it. “The other two men—are they guys you know?”
She shook her head. “They’re just ones I made up.”
“Where do I fit into all of this?”
Her mouth trembled. Again, she wanted to lie, but couldn’t. “You’re the one I want.”
“Good.” He moved closer. “Tell me.” Another command in a huskier voice.
Danni’s heart jumped to her throat. It hadn’t been disapproval in his eyes. It was jealousy.
He wanted her. Maybe just at this moment and maybe because of what he’d seen in the showroom, but he wanted her. Months of longing surfaced. What remained of her prudence evaporated, and the words poured out. As the elevator made unnecessary stops, she painted the picture her mind had created of nudity, partial bondage, unbearable need, being a sensual creature displayed for his and the other men’s pleasure, which led to her own.
Adam listened intently and finally interrupted, “Wait a minute. I didn’t hear you. What did I do then?”
Her cheeks stung. She tried to speak louder. “To imprison me further, you push three fingers inside my, ah…my…”
The elevator reached another floor. The doors slid open. Again, no one waited.
“Cunt?” Adam asked.
It sounded dirty and exciting wrapped in his husky voice. “Yeah. With your fingers in me, I can’t move. Your thumb strokes my clit.”
The doors closed. He inhaled slowly, deeply.
Another rush of moisture escaped her sheath. “While you’re arousing me, one of the other men laces me into a cincher.”
Adam’s head dipped to her waist. She glanced at his groin. His erect cock strained against the lightweight wool. Her mouth went dry.
“Go on,” he said.
She pressed her palm against the wall for support. Her clammy skin stuck to the paneling.
“The cincher makes me feel even more naked. It accentuates my breasts and ass.”
Adam glanced up, his features tight with desire. “You like that?”
Oh yeah. She nodded.
“And then?” he asked.
She couldn’t tell him about his promise to shave her mound. Only years of intimacy or being seriously drunk would make her confess such a thing. “We, ah, move to a bed. Or we’re somehow on a bed. My hands aren’t tied any longer. The other men hold my wrists above my head. One of them kisses me, one fondles my breasts. You spread my legs and mount me.”
Adam inched closer. “You like the feel of me inside of you? Of three men using you?”
Her gaze stopped trailing down him. Using her? His words surprised and hurt. A part of her knew he didn’t mean them in a bad way but she wished he hadn’t said them at all. Meeting his eyes, she spoke in a measured voice. “I play the submissive, but I’m the one in control of my fantasies. And I don’t allow anyone to use me.”
“Okay,” he conceded, “bad choice in words. Pleasured. Aroused.”
“Adored.”
He hesitated. “I don’t understand. You mean worshipped?”
“I mean noticed, Adam.” God, she was so angry suddenly and couldn’t stop. “Singled out. Chosen. Call it what you like. I prefer to think of it as being adored. I know it’s only for sex, but few drives are more selfish, and in my fantasy three men are focused solely on me. Not one of my friends, not another woman I never met before and might have liked if I hadn’t found her in bed with my boyfriend. Finally, I have all the attention. I don’t have to worry about being lied to or cheated on like I was with Bryan or Matt. I don’t have to—”
The elevator dinged, bringing Danni back to reality and cutting off her words. In one horrible moment, she realized Adam now knew of her worst humiliations with men. Shame tore through her. For the second time tonight, she wanted to flee."
The other is a repetition of Ariel's Pet by Qwilla Rain.
"Ariel occupied the sofa, with his leather jacket wrapped around her. One hand caressed her body, while the other rocked against her sex. Squeezing his eyes shut, he smothered the surprised curse that tried to escape his lips. He so didn't need this on top of all the shit he had to deal with at home, but he opened his eyes, wanting to look again.
God, she looked good. He had wondered if the ivory skin of her face covered her entire body. Now he knew it did. It was arousing to see how smooth it was, especially in contrast to the black of his coat, the only clothing covering her as she sprawled across the cushions of the sofa. The wet slide and low hum of a vibrator competed with her raspy breaths. The length of his coat hid the juncture of her thighs, but the soft, full mounds of her breasts were visible. One tiny hand—the nails short, but neatly trimmed and clean—palpated a pink-tipped globe before she gripped the taut peak and tugged on it.
“Yes, oh yes, Dane. There, please.”
His erection throbbed in response to the sound of her throaty voice calling his name, and satisfaction spread through his chest. Both his hands gripped the door frame until his knuckles showed white, but he forced himself to watch her. The commands and soft pleas for release that whispered through the room could barely be heard as she rocked the vibrator in and out of her wet cunt. Fast, then slow—she didn't seem to know which rhythm worked best. Her hips arched, and her head pressed deep into the cushion, but he could tell climax eluded her.
Your clit, he wanted to tell her. Forget the fucking nipple and play with your clit, Ariel. But she couldn't hear his thoughts, and he wasn't about to shatter the scene by speaking aloud. Frustration throbbed through her voice. Dane wondered if the ancient piece of furniture would withstand the press of her bare feet against its arm. She must have spent an extended period of time trying to reach climax, because her body glistened with sweat. Her thighs were coated with her juices, which had probably stained the lining of his coat.."
Good night, have some mischief.
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