Published by: eXtasy Books
Author : R.M. Sotera
Word Count :23215
Publication Date :2011-06-19
Series : The Norse Gods#1
Heat Level :
- Product Code: 978-1-55487-583-2
Sophia Dahl, Las Vegas powerhouse executive, brains behind the expensive yet unsuccessful male review, Gods of Greece, meets Jett Donivan, creator and owner of the flourishing rival show, Decoeur’s Dream. Prepared to ruin his illustrious career, she attacks him during a show, but her tactics backfire. Her driving need for vengeance subsides. She finds herself captivated by his stage presence and is sure of three things—the way her heart skips a bit each time Jett glances her way can’t be good, the way his gaze reflects a need to consume her is worse and, the way her body desires to cover his spells T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
Jett can’t believe his luck. The woman he has admired for years is at his show, but she’s furious. Using his warrior powers and cunning, he subdues the exec. But now that she’s tied and cuffed backstage, will he be able to make her see reason and prove his love? And if he does, will he be able to keep his family lineage and other job, fighting demons, secret? One night together will change their lives forever.
Story done in collaboration with C.R. Moss. For Jay’s point of view and to find out her destiny, read Dirty Little Demons by C.R. Moss.
As promised, he appeared back in the kitchen with a red fur blanket. Once he was assured it was comfortably placed beneath her, he glanced at the hot fudge sundae ingredients, opting to pick up the small fruit first. After screwing off the lid to the maraschino cherries, the sweet scent popped from the jar, filling the space between them. He shoved one in his mouth, another in hers. The soft texture coated her tongue. She bit down, welcoming the squirt of sweet cherry juice as she swallowed.
He popped another cherry into his mouth, bent down and touched his lips to hers, rimming her lips with his tongue. She received him and the cherry slid into her mouth. The soft, warm marble-shaped fruit danced between their dueling tongues, until finally she swallowed it whole.
“Hey, that wasn’t fair,” his velvety tone whispered.
“Sure it was. You gave it to me.”
He narrowed his breath-taking gaze. “Perhaps you’re right, but the next cherry I put inside you will not slide so easily down your throat.” Less than a minute later, he added, “How much do you like vanilla ice cream?” The question hung in the air between them as he scooped out a hefty measure from the K and J container.
She thought about his question, her many late night visits to Branson’s grocery to purchase ice cream, always K and J’s Vanilla Bean. “It’s my favorite. I’m not much for the fancy flavors when eating a sundae. I prefer to enjoy the other stuff on it.”
A smug smirk creased his features. “I know what you mean. I’m going to enjoy the other stuff so much more tonight.”
He plopped the scoop of ice cream in the divot at the top of her sternum, inches above her breasts. The coldness jolted her. One pelvic thrust lifted her buttocks from the fur, but only for a moment. Warm hands meshed the dome, rubbed the mixture over her breasts, pinching her nipples. Moans of pleasure coiled through her body as he plucked and squeezed the taught little buds. She moved her legs apart.
He chuckled. “Feels good, does it?”
Through heaved breaths, she whispered, “Yes. Oh, yes.”
Gentle fingers caressed her thighs, opened her legs further. Standing at the side of the table facing her, Jett’s warm palms touched her inner thighs, pushing them further apart. And like a bromeliad’s leaves open from the sun’s kiss, her legs stretched until her knees touched the table. With her legs apart, Jett strained the jar of cherry juice into her pubic area. The cold liquid ran across her pulsating sex, into the opening, coated her clit. Warm fingers massaged the sticky moisture into the wiry hairs. Swollen nipples hardened as her breath accelerated. She raised her head a few inches off the table in time to catch Jett’s grin full of hungry, raw anticipation. Lithe fingers placed cherries around the perimeter of the area just above her mound, until one finger slid a cherry up inside her.
She flinched from the small pebble-sized fruit filling her. “Wait, what if it doesn’t come out?”
A low, laugh emerged. “I left the stem out. I plan on plucking the cherry from you before I eat it.”
“Oh. All right.” She tried not to breathe or move her Kegel muscles for fear she would pull it up into her. A trip to the emergency room to remove a piece of fruit from her vagina would be definite grounds for mortification. Hey, doc, during a sex stint as a human sundae, I lodged a piece of fruit inside me. Oh God, I’ll surely become the talk at the proverbial water cooler.