Monday 6 February 2017

Blue Monday: Piper Denna guests

Every Monday I post a naughty excerpt for your entertainment!

Today's guest is Piper Denna, with an excerpt from her short story His Undoing. It appears in the gloriously provocative anthology Sacred and Profane: Erotic Priest Romance, edited by Torrance Sené.


 Ten stories of temptation, romance, and blasphemy featuring Sonni de Soto, Piper Denna, Torrance Sené, Charlotte French, Bronwyn Green, Leandra Vane, Mira Stanley, Jordan Monroe, H K Carlton, and Jillian Boyd.

Not even men of the cloth are exempt from God’s greatest gift: Love. In
Sacred and Profane: Priest Erotic Romance, you’ll find stories of clergymen stepping outside their vows, pastors weaving divinity into their seductions, nuns and parishioners confessing to their body’s every earthly desire, and more.

Are you aroused by the blasphemous dance of sex and religion? The dangerous edge of eroticism contained within submission to something beyond oneself? The taboo juxtaposition of holy and sensual? Then
Sacred and Profane welcomes you.


She looked back at him, brows raised.

“Don’t believe you could lead me astray, Shasta.” Her half-smile faltered, so he rushed on. “I mean, because I’ve already gone astray... in spirit, at least.”


“A... alone?” She crossed her arms over that gorgeous chest.


He shook his head. Sucked in a deep breath. “With you.” And a few dozen other females, back in the porn-phase. But she didn’t need to hear about that now.


“Oh.” Her smile broadened. “So you were thinking with your...” She looked down at the front of his jeans, no doubt noticing he was hard for her. Unable or unwilling to voice the words, she blushed.


“Thinking with my dick?” His breath caught, saying it out loud. “Yes.”


“Maybe it’d like to get out and do some talking?” She stepped closer, cupped him, and all of last night’s heat came rushing back. “A little handshake?”


He caught her face between his hands, kissed her plump, sweet lips, the corner of her mouth, back for a taste inside, a suck at her tongue.


She’d worked his jeans open, her hand slipping under the waistband of his briefs and then those soft, small, hot fingers slid over his head, wrapped around him.


“Shasta.” Heat arrowed through his gut; his balls tightened. Hell. He couldn’t lose control of himself now, in her hand.


“You sure about this... What should I call you?” Her eyes met his as she squeezed, tugged.


Not pastor. He half laughed, relieved for the minor distraction. “Just Luke is fine. Or Lucas. And yes. I’m sure. You?” If she wanted to back out, he’d have trouble walking away upright, but he’d go.


“Yes.” She kissed him and he tried to focus on kissing back, but her hand on his cock filled the world, stroking, sliding through precome.


Would she like it if he came in her hand? Girls in porns wanted it on their chests or faces, but he didn’t feel like that was realistic. “Shasta,” he managed. “If you keep doing that...”


“Oh.” She broke away from his mouth, looked around the room. “Here. Sit.” With a small push, she directed him to a dining chair. When he’d sat, she helped him work his jeans down to his ankles, then when he’d toed off his shoes, she pushed the jeans to the floor. Before he could process that she wasn’t going to get naked or climb on or finish the hand job, she’d knelt and covered him with her mouth.


“Fuck.” He hadn’t uttered that profanity since his teen years, but it seemed fitting now. Her mouth, so wet, so hot, so... sucking while it moved. Her hands, cupping his balls just tight enough. And Lord, she made hot little sounds of want while she did it. He found himself sliding down in the chair to give her more reach, more depth. When she nudged his legs apart, he spread them and she knuckled below his balls and sweet hell he knew if she went for his hole he wouldn’t stop her but one of his balls was disappearing and the blood rushed through his ears and he thrust into her mouth, moaning like a crazy man. And then it was zipping out of him in hot wonderful streaks he couldn’t see but he could hear her gulping and the thought of it in her throat made him come harder, made him want to fill her, every hole.


She let go of him with a little sucking pop, looked up at him with eyes round, pupils dilated, lips red and swollen.


Satisfaction warred with searing need to own her, to complete her, make her scream his name.




Buy Sacred and Profane in paperback or e-book at:
Amazon US :: Amazon UK
Smashwords
Barnes and Noble
Kobo
iBooks

About Torrance Sené, editor:
 

Torrance Sené (www.dieromantic.com) resides in the southeast USA. When not writing, she can usually be found feeding her addictions to tea, British telly, Marvel, and books. Her other work is found in Best Erotic Romance 2013 (Cleis Press), Paranormal Erotica (Mischief Books/HarperCollins UK), Love Slave: Passion and Love Slave: Heatwave (Lit Select), Exchange of Power (Torquere Press), and Love of the Game (Sexy Little Pages). She is currently at work on her first full-length novel set to be released in spring 2017.

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