Excerpt from WIP

After the girl had left, stomping off in a huff, Grant turned back to Kaitlyn. “I’m sorry about that. Allison has a little problem with authority.”

“She doesn’t seem to have a problem with your authority. I’d say that she’s more than eager to do anything that you ask of her.” The observation was pointedly vague, but there was a wealth of meaning in her tone. 

“Just what the hell does that mean?” 

Kaitlyn shrugged. “You tell me. A grown man wandering around with a sixteen year old girl who obviously worships the ground he walks on...That’s pretty heady stuff, I’d imagine. Needing your ego stroked, Grant? Are actual grown women just too much for you to handle?”

He moved toward her then, stalked more accurately, but Kaitlyn refused to back down. Even when they were toe to toe and his face was mere inches from hers, she stood firm. 

“If you want to make accusations, Kaitlyn, make them. But be damned clear about it.”

The anger surprised her. The ferocity of the rage that bubbled within her was something she hadn’t experienced in more years than she could even put a number to. “Fine. That girl, and she is a girl, even if she does look like  a grown woman, obviously worships you. If you think for one minute that you can get away with taking advantage of her—”

Kaitlyn didn’t finish the statement. Grant seized her upper arms and pressed her back against the wall of the barn. His grip was firm, but not bruising. The look on his face, the banked fury that burned in his green eyes, was more frightening by far. 

“I know the difference between a grown woman and a little girl. Make no mistake about that, Kaitlyn!”

It was all the warning she had. His mouth settled over hers in a hard kiss. It was rough, punishing, but still electric. His tongue slid between her lips, invading, marauding, a blatant display of sheer arrogance and male domination. That didn’t stop her from kissing him back, from tangling her tongue with his while she strained against him, eager to feel the heat and the hard press of his body. 

All the anger, the bickering, the constant jabbing at one another had just been fuel for the fire that now burned between them. The heat of that kiss seared her to her soul. It burned through her like a wildfire and left her shaking with both desire and fear. She didn’t want to want him. Wanting anyone that desperately could only lead to disaster. It was a road she knew well and it petrified her to feel so out of control.

It was over quickly, a brief storm that left them both shaken. The fury was still there, but different somehow. There was a hint of what she could only consider to be pity in his eyes. “Who hurt you, Kaitlyn? What happened to make you have such ugly thoughts?”

The kiss might have rocked her back on her heels, but that question had her coming out of the corner swinging. She pushed against him, flattening her hands against his chest, dropping everything that had been clutched in her arms. It didn’t matter. All that mattered in that moment was getting away from him, from the temptation and from the too knowing look in his eyes. Ignoring the pain in her hands, she pressed against his chest, pushing with all her might. He was immovable. “Get off me!”

He took her wrists, closing one hand over each, his touch gentle. “You’re going to hurt yourself!”

She twisted her hands in his grasp, desperate for an escape. “Then stop bullying me and let me go, dammit!” She might as well have been talking to a brick wall. He turned her hands over, checking her blistered palms again. “I’m not a child.”

“No. You’re not, but damned if you don’t act like one sometimes.” His sigh was heavy as he let her go. “What you accused me of, Kaitlyn, that’s not the kind of man I am. I’d never hurt these kids.”

A hot retort burned on her lips, but she didn’t utter it. Because she knew he was telling the truth. Seeing them together, she’d had a knee jerk reaction, sparked by her own ugly past. She’d let it seep too close to the surface and had painted him with the same brush as another too handsome man she’d once known. The need for a reprieve was greater than her need to hold onto her already battered pride. “I just want to go, please.”

Excerpt from Been Loving You Too Long

So here's an excerpt from Been Loving You Too Long where Kaitlyn gives her big brother a set down for his treatment of Ophelia.  I love Kaitlyn's take no prisoners attitude.  She'll stand up to anyone and will always speak her mind. That is why her book, Have a Little Faith in Me, is proving to be so much fun to write. 



EXCERPT
  “What the hell did you do?”

Hearing his sister’s strident voice, Vincent wished that he’d gone back upstairs.  It wouldn’t have mattered.  Kaitlyn didn’t respect anyone’s boundaries.  “You’re home early,” he intoned sarcastically.  “Get thrown out of the clubs again?”

“No.  I was tired. But apparently, Miss Goody Two Shoes knows how to party.  Did you not listen to a word I said last week, Vincent? Really!”

“Don’t.” The single word was infused with a wealth of meaning and warning.  

“Don’t butt into your business?  Don’t take you to task for being a selfish asshole and thinking with your dick?”

“Whatever happened between Ophelia and myself is none of your damned business.”

Kaitlyn crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.  “Look, I know you’re crazy about her, and anyone with eyes knows she’s crazy about you.  The only two people in this house who never seemed to figure that out was the two of you!”

“Leave it alone!”

“No.  I won’t leave it alone.  She goes tearing out of here at three o’clock in the morning, crying and you’re sitting in the dark looking at a glass of bourbon like it holds the secrets of the universe!  Leaving it to the two of you is obviously not a reasonable option!  Just admit it, already!”

“Admit what?”

“Admit that you’re in love with her!”

He rose quickly and with one swipe of his hand sent the items on the desk crashing to the floor.  “Love doesn’t exist.  It’s a fairy tale that people use to pretty up jealousy and obsession.  If anyone should know that, it ought to be you!”

Kaitlyn jumped, but didn’t back down.  She’d never seen her brother lose his temper.  Not once in their life, not since they’d come to Thomas’ home, had he ever truly let go.  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.  You love me, and god knows I’m a pain in the ass.  You loved Thomas and he was incorrigible.  You love Justin and he moves through our lives like a shadow...A week ago you said Ophelia was a part of this family too.”

“It’s not the same.”

“You’re not like him, you know?  You’re nothing like our father.”  

It was as if she knew what was going on inside his mind, poking around in his head the same way that damned fortune teller had.  

At his sharp look, she sighed.  “Isn’t that what this is really all about?”

Vincent didn’t respond for the longest time.   When he did speak, his voice was pitched low. “I’m just like him. That’s what everyone says.  All of his old friends, the people who worked for him.  Claude even said it last week, just as I had my fist drawn back to hit him.”

“Everyone wants to hit Claude!  He’s an asshole!  Thomas never said you were like him—and he never believed it.  Neither do I.  You may look like him, Vincent, but that’s where the similarity ends.”

He shook his head and continued to stare out the window into the darkness.  “Go to bed, Kaitlyn. It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”

Kaitlyn looked like she wanted to shake him, to make him see things her way.  But he’d always been able to out stubborn her.  Some things weren’t worth the risk and, to his mind, hurting Ophelia any more than he already had definitely fell into that category.  

“Fine.  Promise me you won’t sit here and drink yourself sick. We’ve still got to get through the reading of the will tomorrow and from what I hear, it’s going to be a doozy.” With that final parting shot she flounced off, leaving him alone in the dark again.  

Scavenger Hunt!

Guess who's first up for the Scavenger Hunt at Close Encounters With the Night Kind?  Moi, of course!  The month long party starts July 1st, so if you haven't picked up a copy of Been Loving You Too Long you might just get lucky and win a copy here!!! Now here is your question for my blog!  Remember to hunt for the answer down below!!

Ophelia Broulliard’s life has always been linked to the wealthy and powerful DuChamps family. The granddaughter of the family’s housekeeper, she’s worshipped Vincent DuChamps from afar--the ever unattainable prince in her fairy tale dreams. Little does she know that Vincent harbors his own secret feelings for her, but other darker secrets that he sees as an insurmountable obstacle to ever being the man she deserves, have prompted him to avoid her altogether. 

When Thomas, the family patriarch dies, his will bears some unpleasant surprises for them both. Thomas wants nothing more than for Vincent and his siblings to be happy, and in his final act as the only father figure they’ve ever had, engineers a series of contingencies in his will that require them each to face their demons. Only too aware of what Vincent really feels for Ophelia, Thomas creates a situation that will force Vincent to confront his feelings. Unless, Vincent and Ophelia marry, Vincent and his siblings will lose everything, including the family business. 

Forced into such close proximity, denying their attraction for one another becomes impossible. But even as they grow closer, other threats to the future of DuChamps Hotels and all that Vincent holds dear threaten to destroy their burgeoning relationship. Ophelia has played it safe her whole life. Taking a risk on Vincent is a frightening prospect. Will it be worth it, or will his secrets break both their hearts?

Excerpt:

Unlocking the door, she eased inside, thankful that the lights were off.  Explaining her red, puffy eyes and the beard burn that she could feel on her skin would not go over well.  

Brenna tended to be overprotective at best and a real mama grizzly at worst.  “I know you don’t think you’re sneaking in at almost four in the morning without telling me who kept you out all night.”

“I’m really tired, Bren.  I’ll tell you everything in the morning—well, later today.”

The lights came on and Ophelia winced.  

“I knew it!” Brenna snapped.  “You’ve been crying!”

“It’s been a difficult day.”

“Yes.  I know.  Thomas’ funeral.  But that doesn’t explain why you’ve got bed head and a bite mark on your neck.”

Ophelia blushed, recalling the moment that Vincent had bitten her.  His teeth had scraped sharply over her skin and he’d then soothed that small bruise with his tongue, and all the while he’d been inside her, driving her closer and closer to heaven.  “I slept with Vincent,” she blurted out.  “And then in the middle of the night, he told me it was getting late and offered to drive me home.”

“Bastard!”

“Exactly.  Good enough for a quick roll in the hay, but spending the night—well, apparently not.”

Brenna sighed heavily as she trudged to the kitchen.  Her fiery red hair was still piled high in an elaborate bouffant, but her stage makeup had been washed away.  She pulled a tub of ice cream from the freezer and then returned to the living room with two spoons.  “He’s an asshole. He’s running scared like most men do.  It’s complicated to have a one night stand with someone who’s involved in your day to day life.”

“It doesn’t matter.  How can something go from being that perfect to falling apart?  It was incredible, Bren, and then he just went cold...distant.  When he basically showed me to the door, he called it ‘mitigating the fallout of a bad decision’!”

Brenna patted the couch beside her.  “He can just go to hell.  Tonight, we’re going to eat this entire tub of salted caramel fudge ice cream and we’re going to watch Molly Ringwald kick some preppy ass, and we’re going to lament the fact that we don’t have a Ducky of our very own.”

Ophelia’s laugh turned into a sob as she laid her head on Brenna’s shoulder.  “I could use a Ducky right now.  My ego needs a boost.”

“I’ll put on a hideous hat and sing you Otis Redding songs if it’ll help,” Brenna offered with a cheeky grin.  

“Just start the damned movie, already.” Ophelia settled onto the couch.  “Right now, Andy’s happy ending will have to do.”

Sooo....what do you have to do to win a copy of my latest and greatest?  Fill out the rafflecopter!!!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

To enter in the for the grandprize, just fill in your answer under my tab!! Good luck and remember to keep hunting!! a Rafflecopter giveaway <

Caught With Casanova

Here is the blurb for my newest release, Caught with Casanova!  

Gavin McBray, billionaire and tech genius, has finally found the mystery woman who ran out on him. In spite of exploding elevators and paparazzi, he's determined to keep her safe and keep her with him. 
Liberty Jones is a fiery redhead with curves that would make any man sweat. Independent, smart and determined to make it on her own, Libby is uncomfortable with Gavin's wealth and the luxurious world that he moves in. Still, passion flares between them, too strong for either of them to deny.
From posh mansions in the Hampton's to glittering and glamourous hotels in Monaco, Libby and Gavin try to outrun the danger and cope with the intensity of their desire for one another in Caught with Casanova.

And as a little extra treat, here's shot little excerpt....

 Hanging from a rack behind the screen was a selection of dresses, skirts and blouses, along with pants and layering pieces. There was also underwear; thong panties that bore no similarity to the granny panties she’d had on the day before. The matching bras, which were mysteriously her size, were works of art. 

She didn’t want to know how they knew her sizes. It was more than a little disconcerting. Selecting a set of the lingerie, she noted that the tags had all been removed. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the undies she’d just put on were probably equivalent to a month’s rent on her crappy apartment. Just thinking about it made her uncomfortable. Not as uncomfortable as the idea of continuing to go without underwear altogether though.  

Each outfit that she tried on left her feeling more and more out of her depth. After accumulating a week’s worth of clothes and underwear which would have probably equaled or even outpaced her yearly salary, she called a halt. “This is more than enough. I can’t take any more of these clothes,” she said, facing off against the Dragon Lady.  

“Mr. McBray has insisted that you be properly outfitted, Ms. Jones.”

“I am. I promise. This is more than enough.”

The Dragon Lady appeared to blush. “You have no nightclothes, Ms. Jones. Mr. McBray was quite insistent that you select what he termed ‘appropriate’ nightwear.”

“Well, I doubt these shops carry anything that’s crotchless, so he’ll just have to live with the disappointment!” Liberty retorted. 

“I have your sizes,” Dragon Lady stated primly. “I’ll just order a selection.”

“You do that. Maybe some handcuffs and a flogger. Someone needs to learn a lesson.”

“Those items most assuredly are not carried by these merchants, Ms. Jones. But I can make inquiries.”

Libby drew a steadying breath. “It was a joke. I don’t want handcuffs and a flogger.”

“Why ever not?”

Libby looked up to see Gavin leaning nonchalantly in the doorway, looking sinfully handsome and far too full of himself. “Because you’re obviously a total pervert and would get off on it."

CAUGHT WITH CASANOVA IS AVAILABLE AT AMAZON!  http://www.amazon.com/Caught-With-Casanova-ebook/dp/B00DGK7OFU/ref=sr_1_22?ie=UTF8&qid=1371585263&sr=8-22&keywords=seraphina+donavan

Serial Killer...

There's been a lot of backlash against romance author's writing books as serials, specifically if they are short stories.  There's this belief that we're doing it for money, to bilk readers in some way.  That couldn't be further from the truth.

Here are my reasons for writing books as serials:
1) I work... a lot.  If I wrote a full length novel, instead of doing installments, I would only be posting new work on Amazon once every four to six months.  By dividing this up into serials, I can post more often and having more titles up there makes me more discoverable.
2) Discoverability is not about making money.  I don't write to earn a living.  It'd be nice if I could, but the bottom line is that I write because I love to, and knowing that people are reading my work and enjoying it is the greatest feeling in the world.
3) Pricing-- I don't price my serials the same way I price a full length novel.  My conscience (and yes I do have one) will not allow me to charge anyone $2.99 for such a short work.  I price all of my serial installments at $0.99 and take advantage of every free promo day that I can get Amazon to give me.  Unfortunately, a book has to be up at least 90 days on Amazon KDP Select before you can publish it anywhere else and have Amazon price match it to free.
4)Pricing Part B-- I price my serials at the lowest price that Amazon will allow me to have.  I can't make them any cheaper, or I would.

I say all this because a lot of people seem to take issue with the serial format, thinking that they are being jipped in some way.  Once the series is complete, I will compile them into an anthology and post that anthology for a reasonable price, typically the same price that a lot of authors take onto a single installment of their serials, so people have the option of waiting for that to be released.  I don't price my work cheaply because I don't have faith in it.  I try to price my work affordably because, again, I don't write for the love of money.  If I can use writing to keep a roof over my head and enough ramen noodles in the kitchen to survive, then I'm happy.  I don't want anyone to not read my books because my ego demanded that I charge a certain amount.

I hope this doesn't sound like a rant.  It isn't intended that way.  Just addressing some of the criticism of the shorter books and hopefully allaying some misconceptions.

The Big Fight....

Sometimes there is nothing better than putting your characters in the middle of a gigantic argument, just to see what fabulous things will fall out of their mouths....  The sex between Vincent and Ophelia isn't the only thing that gets dirty!


Excerpt:

"Are you kicking me out?” she asked.  

“I’m not kicking you out,” he replied calmly, though in fact, he was.  “I’m just mitigating the fall out of a bad decision.”  The minute the words escaped his mouth, he regretted them.  But it was too late to call them back, and if he wanted to put an insurmountable distance between them, they would do the trick.  

Ophelia’s breath seized in her lungs.  It was almost like a slap.  It wasn’t as if she’d expected a happily ever after ending.  She didn’t believe in fairy tales and she certainly knew that Vincent was no prince charming.  But she hadn’t expected to be thrown out of his bed in the middle of the night.  “Of course,” she replied, her voice slightly clipped, the words as brittle as glass.  Pushing the sheets back, she rose and retrieved what was left of her clothing.  She had no idea where her torn underwear had wound up, but she wasn’t going to embarrass herself further by digging in the dark for them.  Fastening her bra, she slipped her dress back on over her head.  The zipper was proving stubborn, but when she felt the weight of his presence behind her and the gentle brush of his hands on her back as he tried to assist her, fury washed through her.  

“I don’t need your help!” she snapped, and then quickly moved away.  It wasn’t simply that it hurt.  She was humiliated.  

“I’m sorry,” he said.  

“Sorry for what?” she asked.  “Sorry for breaking your damned rules or sorry for tossing me out of your bed in the middle of the night like some drunken mistake?”

He stared at her for a long moment.  “I’m sorry that it can’t be what you want.”

The shoe she’d picked up flew from her hand, sailing in his direction.  “Don’t you dare put that on me!  I never asked a thing from you!  I never made assumptions about what would or wouldn’t be between us... The only one doing that is you!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, picking up one shoe while dodging the other.

“You are so full of yourself, Vincent!  What makes you so damned sure that I wanted more than what you’ve already given me?”

He didn’t have a suitable answer for that.  It was a safe bet that anything he said would be wrong at that point.  “Let me get my keys and I’ll drive you home.”

“I’ll take a cab!”

“No, you won’t.  It’s dangerous.”

She whirled on him then.  “Right now I’m dangerous... You don’t get to treat me like a whore and then play the gentleman in the same breath.  I’ll take the goddamned taxi!”

Vincent placed the shoes on the bed and, with a sigh, walked out of the room.  He had wounded her pride and she had always had that in abundance.  But it would keep things from going any further.  If she hated him, there would be no more temptation to resist.  It would be easier for both of them that way, he reasoned.  No false hopes.  No disappointments down the road. It was safer for her that way.  He paused in the foyer, listening to the click of her heels on the stairs as she stormed down.  

“Let me drive you home,” he said.  “It will take forever to get a taxi here at this time of night.”

“I’ve already called one and it’s on the way... You’ve done quite enough already, thank you,” she said.  Some of the heat had left her voice and she sounded somewhat reasonable.  

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ophelia, but a relationship isn’t something I can even consider right now.”

“Please spare me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ routine.  I know it’s you, Vincent.  It’s glaringly apparent right now that it’s you... If you want to be a coward, fine.  Be one.  Just don’t expect me not to call you on it... I’ll wait out front for the taxi. I could use the air.”

CONTEST!!!!!

So, I've been slaving away on a new manuscript.  It's hot, but a little bit of a departure for me.  It's a contemporary erotic romance.  No suspense.  No paranormal elements.  But we do have a very tortured hero with a host of ugly secrets haunting him.  So, I'm giving you all a sneak peek... a hot and steamy excerpt.  And here's the fun part, for everyone who visits the blog and comments, tell them to leave the name of the person who turned them onto the blog and whoever sends the most viewers will get a $15 Amazon gift card!

Feel free to leave any comments about Vincent and Ophelia.... and here's a little taste of one of the photos that will be incorporated into the cover.


EXCERPT:  

VINCENT paused in the doorway, his tie dangling from his fingertips.  He hadn’t heard the music until he opened the door, and he hadn’t realized that Ophelia was in the house.  Kaitlyn had told him she was moving her belongings in that day, but he hadn’t seen Ophelia’s car.  Of course, he’d parked on the street rather than in the driveway to avoid having to move the car for the florist and caterer the next day.  He was cursing himself for it.  Had he realized that she was there, he never would have opened the bathroom door without knocking.  And the vision before him would not be permanently seared into his brain.  

It seemed as if every drop of blood in his body had rushed directly to his cock.  He was so painfully hard that his clothing had become a torture device.  Still, he didn’t move.  If he made a sound, she would know he was there and she would stop.  Watching one of her slender hands moving delicately over the lush globes of her breasts, tugging gently at one nipple before sliding over soap slicked skin to offer that same enticing treatment to the other, he was enrapt.  That her other hand had disappeared beneath the surface of the water had not escaped him.  Knowing that she was touching herself so intimately was wrecking the last shred of control he possessed.  Watching the flush as it crept over her breasts and pinkened her cheeks, he wanted to badly to touch her.  Her lips parted on a soft moan and his entire body seized.  

Even as he looked on, she kept her eyes closed tightly and her movements became more frantic.  The soft moans grew louder and her breathing grew more rapid.  When she arched her back, her breasts lifting entirely out of the sudsy water, it was all he could not to rush over there and simply take what she unknowingly offered  

“Vincent,” she murmured.  

He thought at first that he’d been found out, but her eyes remained firmly closed.  Which left only one possible conclusion.  Whatever fantasy was inspiring her to bring herself to release, he was a part of it.  The very thought effected him in ways he’d never imagined.  The possessiveness that consumed him in that moment didn’t frighten him.  Ophelia was his, and that was all that mattered to him.  Dropping his tie to the floor, he unbuttoned his shirt while toeing off his shoes at the same time.  In stocking feet and the pants that felt like a vice over his swollen member, he moved toward the tub and the temptress who awaited him there.  

He was only a few feet from the tub when she cried out, her body shuddering with her climax.  Her eyes fluttered open and met his gaze.  A dozen emotions crossed her face in that split second, shock, horror, embarrassment, anger, but the last was lust.  Her gaze had settled on his bare chest before wandering down to the unmistakable bulge in his pants.  

“You shouldn’t be in here!” she finally managed, hunkering down in the tub to shield her breasts from his view.  

“You’re one to talk about things a person shouldn’t be doing,” he said mildly.  “What a naughty girl you are, Ophelia.”

“Get out!”

“I don’t think so... Ten seconds ago, I might have left if you told me to.  But that was before I heard you whispering my name... I like knowing that I’m the man you think of when you make yourself cum.”

Ophelia blushed hotly, “Please, just leave.”

Vincent settled himself on the edge of the tub, one arm bracketing her wet, naked body as he leaned over her.  “Oh, no.  Not now.  Do you what that did to me?  It was bad enough to walk in and realize that you were naked... that divine body shielded by nothing but water.  But then I saw what you were doing, and it was the most beautiful, erotic think I’ve ever witnessed.”

“I can’t help wanting you... But that doesn’t mean were going to act on it.  I can’t be with you that way and keep my emotions out of it.  And my emotions are the one thing you can’t be trusted with.” she said.  

“We’ve got one year,” he said.  “One year to figure it all out... I want you too.  I’ve wanted you for so long that if Thomas or Ruby had known what dirty thoughts I was having about you they would have whipped me down to the river and back.  But we’re both grown ups now, and tomorrow you’re going to be my wife.”

“It isn’t a real marriage,” she protested.  

Leaning down, he kissed her shoulder, his tongue burning a path to her collar bone and then the hollows her throat.  Her head fell back against the back of the tub and he scraped his teeth over her the skin of her neck.  “It can be.  Just let me please you,” he urged, sliding his hand beneath the surface of the water to cup the softness of her breast.  Her pebbled nipple pressed impudently against his palm.  He knew she was weakening.  The shuddering breath that escaped her fanned against his cheek and he knew that if he pressed his hand above her heart, he would feel it pounding.  

Ophelia wanted to say no.  The logical, rational part of her was demanding that she push him away, but there was another part of her that urged her to let him continue.  It was so tempting to lose herself in the heat and the pleasure that he offered.  Closing her eyes, she savored the touch of his callused fingers on her breasts, the sting as his teeth scraped against delicate flesh, and delicious warmth when that abraded flesh was soothed by his lips and tongue.   Her memories hadn’t done the sensations justice, and even though she’d just climaxed, she knew that it would take very little effort for him to bring her to that precipice again--and it would be even more enthralling, more rapturous with him.  When his hand moved from her breast, she groaned in disappointment, but then his hand was moving lower, sinking further beneath the water and delving between her parted thighs.   As he caressed the plump folds of her sex, one finger skating delicately along her slit, she couldn’t stop the breathless moan that escaped her.  “Please.”

“Tell me you want this,” he commanded.  

“I do!  I shouldn’t, but God help me, I do,” she said on a broken sob, as his finger slipped between the folds to caress the hardened to bud of her clit.  Still sensitive from her own earlier explorations, her response was immediate and intense.  Her entire body tensed, straining towards him.  

“So beautiful,” he whispered against her ear.  “Wild and abandoned.”  Ophelia gasped his name, her fingers grasping at the sides of the tub, desperate for something to hold onto, as aroused by the harshly whispered words as by his touch.    

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, of how it felt to be inside you... so soft, so hot and wet for me.”

She felt like she was drowning with need, as if it were pulling her under.  Nothing else seemed to matter in that moment except the tension coiling inside her and the pleasure that she knew was waiting on the other side.  Still, she found the strength to speak.  “I’ve thought about it too... Even when I knew I shouldn’t.”

“Don’t fight it, Ophelia. Don’t fight me.  Let’s just take what we can,” he urged. 

“Yes,” she said, her agreement a whispered plea for more.  

Vincent grasped her arms and hauled her up out of the tub, her body plastered to his.  The press of her breasts against his chest, the slide of his hands over her wet skin stoked the flame burning inside him.  There was no finesse, no gentle seduction.  He maneuvered her so that she straddled his hips, his cock cradled between her parted thighs.  The heat of her was scorching even through the last layer of cloth between them.  He ground his cock against her even as she fumbled with the fly of his pants.  The fabric finally parted beneath her hands, providing instant relief that faded in the wake of a new torment as she closed her hand around his aching cock.  Unable to resist the temptation of her lush lips, he captured them in a searing kiss.  Sliding his tongue over the lush curve of her bottom lip, he nipped it gently with his teeth.  Her lips parted on a moan, and he took advantage, deepening the kiss, sliding his tongue into the sweet recesses of her mouth.  It was a familiar dance, the thrust and parry of their tongues, mimicking the act that would follow.  

The knock at the door startled them both.