This week I wrapped up edits for Under The Harvest Moon so I thought I would share the teaser. This book is a collection of three short stories.
"This is wrong," she said.
Christian reached beneath her, palming her breast.
It was wrong, but the delicious quiver racing through her body, spiking at her nipples in an erotic ache against his hand said otherwise.
"Yes, it is wrong, but that is what makes it so good. Let me teach you the way of the world outside Salem. Leave here with me, and let me teach you to soar above those who have wronged you." Christian's stare was intense as she craned her neck to see him.
Yes, Rebecca thought. Yes, that was what she wanted. She wet her lips. "Take me, Christian," she said. "Take me and let us be done with this place. I know you will do what is right."
Her quiet faith in him seemed to be his undoing, as though her words released a passion pent up in him and a barely restrained desire to spiral out of him.
"You know if I could, I would have had you in my bed first. I would have had you yesterday before I left your cottage, against the door. I would have rather had you years ago, but you were not ready for me then. It is never easy for a woman the first time. You are sure you want this?"
"Yes," she said.
Christian dipped his mouth to hers and claimed a kiss. The touch of his lips, the glide of his tongue, almost made Rebecca forget where she was. The taste of him invaded her senses.
He pulled back then. "I am going to take you in every way a man can, lest I leave any virtue behind."
Castle de Sânge
Vasili stepped in again, cupping her cheek. He rubbed his thumb alongside her face. "It is not my wish to break you. I admire your spirit. It is what drew me to you. I wanted to know what exists beneath the façade you wear. You wish to learn? Let me educate you on the passion there is to be had between a man and a woman."
She tried to pull back. "I do not wish to be your whore."
"I will not make you my whore," he said, reaching for her hair.
Her eyes narrowed as she watched him pull another pin from her head, the strand it had held cascading down to dangle over her breast and Vasili casually tossed the pin over his shoulder, his stare traveling down the lock, to her breasts, and back up.
She gaped, staring after the pin, but he tilted her chin with a finger, returning her attention to him. When he was satisfied that her concentration was again on him, Vasili slowly circled her, returning to her back. He kissed her neck tenderly and reached around to fill his hand with her breast. He gave her a squeeze and Katia gasped. In the faintest bit, her neck rolled to the side for him and Vasili chuckled darkly. Her skin fevered under his touch.
As much as Katia might like to deny him, her body betrayed her.
Desire thrummed through her, coursing in her veins.
Katia might not be so hard to tame as he thought. Her blood pulsed hard, and what thrilled him more, it was all from his touch. He would show her pleasure she had never dreamed of before.
Vasili pulled the last pin from her hair and wound his fingers in her tresses, pulling her head back. He sealed his lips over hers then, kissing her hard. "I want you, Katia. I will have you," he said against her lips.
"No," she whispered back.
Vasili dipped under her arm, returning to her front. He stooped to pull a small dagger from his boot, causing Katia to shrink back as much as the chains would allow. He came forward and pulled her into him with one arm and with the knife in his other hand, drew it up her back. The sound of the pearls clanking to the stone floor filled the massive room.
Katia gaped at him in horror, but Vasili smiled down on her triumphantly and made quick work of removing the rest of her bodice.
"You are an animal," she spat.
"You have no idea," he murmured, taking the top of her skirts in hand and ripping them down the middle.
Her Dark Hunter
Enid was minimally aware as the first hunter sped off into the thick night that the other hunter had flipped the woman over on her hands and knees. She watched him a moment. He took her like an animal, but she tossed her head back panting and crying out with pleasure. The Drochdraci tightened his hands about her throat from behind, pressing in harder, speaking to her in their strange language.
Enid stumbled away.
As she began to run, the juncture of her thighs was damp and slick as her legs moved. Her heart pounded. She looked behind her to make sure no Drochdraci followed.
And then the air left her lungs as she impacted with something hard and fleshy and Enid's knees buckled. She felt herself falling to the ground backwards.
Upon contact with the ground, she lifted herself up and began to instantly scoot back, making room between herself and whatever it was.
She stared up in horror at the Drochdraci standing over her.
His legs braced apart, his hard, muscled body gleamed golden under the harvest moon. Like her, he had been dusted with gold. All he wore was the simple white cloth about his hips, barely long enough to cover him, and a golden mask, which concealed his entire face and resembled a creature with large teeth.
"No," Enid whispered, slowly inching further back, knowing it would pounce on her at any second and in that moment everything she had dreamed of sharing with Ciarán would be forever tarnished.
It stared down on her intently, poised to strike.
And then, he jerked off his mask.