This post has adult content. If you are under the age of eighteen years old or sensitive to adult language/situations, please do not read this post.
I’ve donated a 16 page contemporary erotic romance short story to Shades Of Pink, an anthology with proceeds benefiting cancer research. For a small donation (the recommended amount is $5 U.S.), you’ll receive over 400 pages of yummy romance stories written by 22 authors with varying heat levels (my story doesn’t even warrant the highest heat level).
Here is an excerpt
“Monsieur Voclain was your boss.” He brushes a tendril of hair away from my face, his fingertips graze my cheeks and a spark of awareness flows from his form to mine. “I’m Roch.”
“And who is Roch?” My voice is husky, my body enthralled by his touch. “Is he my friend?”
“He’s your everything.” He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him. His chest flattens my breasts. His hips smack against mine and I suck in my breath. He’s hard, the ridge in his dress pants pressing against my stomach.
I arouse him. My mouth dries and my rational thoughts evaporate. “You want me.”
“I want you more than life.” Roch dips his head and captures my lips with his, the pressure firm, the contact unexpected. I yield to him and he surges inside me. Our tongues tumble, twine, dance, every nerve ending snapping and sizzling, bombarding me with sensation.
I’m not alone in this bliss. Roch’s groans travel down my throat and coil around my heart as he kisses me with his renowned focus, making me the center of his universe.
My resignation letter drifts to the gray carpet, forgotten. I’ve never been embraced like this, as though I truly was more important than life. My lips hum and my head spins. I rest my trembling fingers on his suit jacket, the fabric decadent against my skin, and I open wider to him, submitting to his dominance.
He presses farther into me, tasting of mint, black coffee, and hot, horny male, his grip on me secure, his ownership of my body, mind, soul complete. I can’t escape him, not that I want to. Roch Voclain, the man I’ve lusted after seemingly forever, is kissing me, setting my body ablaze with want and need.
My fingers curl around his lapels as I cling to him, swiveling my hips against the bulge in his dress pants. I don’t know how long this madness will last, if he will come to his senses and realize whom he’s seducing, remember that his assistant, his employees are sitting outside his office, stop this sweet torment.
I don’t want this to ever end. Roch fucks my mouth with a thrilling ferocity, each stroke of his tongue escalating my passion. I arch as he slides his hands up my back, holding me tightly to him.
His fingers tangle in my curls. Hairpins fall and the tendrils tumble over my shoulders. He murmurs words I can’t decipher, the sound muffled by my lips, and he burrows his hands in the softness.
I’m lost in him, captivated by his touch, taste, smell. Roch is in control, turning us slowly, walking me backward until my thighs hit the edge of the desk. He lifts me onto the hard surface, spreads my legs, and fills the space with his hips.
My hemline raises to my mons. My panties rub against his pants-covered cock, the silk damp with my desire, my musk scenting the air.
There’s no disguising my eagerness and I make no attempt to try, pushing his jacket off his shoulders.
I inhale sharply, sucking on his tongue. He’s all man, his shoulders broad, his muscles rippling under the fine fabric of his shirt, and this afternoon, he’s mine.
Subscribe To My Release Day Newsletter: http://tasteofcyn.com/2014/05/28/newsletter/
Cynthia Sax
For four long years, Lisa Sadler has lusted after Roch Voclain, her sexy sophisticated boss. Today, she’ll finally end her erotic obsession with this frustratingly attractive man. She’s handing him her letter of resignation.
His reaction will surprise and thrill her.
Donation Link: http://blog.kallysten.net/p/charity-anthology.html
