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Midnight Craving: Midnight Vice, Book 1 Page 7


  When Jace’s tongue dipped into her slick entrance, his nose brushed against her clit. She gasped at the sensation of being tongue-fucked and stimulated at the same time. Her lower belly fluttered. There was no stopping the involuntary snap of her hips. Passion overwhelmed Isla as she ground her pussy against Jace’s mouth in an attempt to extract every single vibration of sensation from his movements. When his tongue returned to her clit, she threw back her head and let all the moans and grunts escape. He sucked her clit between his lips and ran the tip of his tongue over the sensitive nub.

  Isla howled as her orgasm crashed down without warning. Wild and wanton, she gyrated over his mouth, riding out the full force of her orgasm as Jace’s tongue incessantly flicked her clit.

  Unable to take another moment of ecstasy, Isla slid back from his mouth and then collapsed onto her side atop the comforter. Jace curled up against her back, his wet lips pressing the softest kisses to her shoulder. His erection pressed into her backside. Isla shifted just enough and parted her thighs. Pushing back against him, she lined up their bodies. His cock slid into her wet heat. Jace clasped her hip as he rocked gently in and out of her slick pussy. Isla reached back and held onto him.

  After a few moments of close contact, Jace pulled away and pressed Isla onto her back. She welcomed him between her thighs and exhaled with pleasure as he slid inside of her. Elbow planted on the pillow next to her head, Jace captured her mouth in a sensuous kiss as he thrust deeply. His languid pace allowed them to enjoy the delightful sensations of their soft caresses and tender kisses.

  Isla cupped the back of Jace’s head. He moved against her and stoked the fire within her core. With every thrust, he hit just the right spot. She focused on the feeling of his pelvis rocking against her clit and knew it wouldn’t be much longer before she exploded again.

  Jace lifted his mouth from hers and gazed into her eyes. Isla found the emotion displayed in his eyes breathtaking. An amber sheen flickered across his irises. His fingers brushed against her cheek, his thumb moved across her lower lip. “God, I love you.”

  Isla’s heart swelled in her chest. A satisfied smile curved her lips. “Say it again.” She begged in a whisper.

  “I love you,” Jace declared. His thrusts grew more powerful and quick. “I love you.”

  Isla clung to his shoulders as the first shivers of orgasm rattled her body. Jace buried his face in her hair and continued whispering his declaration of love as he sought his release. She shattered beneath him, relishing the newfound heights of their passion. Jace followed quickly after her, his body going rigid as he spilled his seed deep within her. Embracing her lover, Isla drew idle circles across the wide expanse of his muscled back. She loved the feeling of him in her arms and wished he’d never have to move. But eventually he did.

  Jace cradled her against his chest. Silent and pensive, they cuddled for quite some time. Finally, Jace spoke. “It won’t be easy.”

  Isla lifted her head from his chest so she could look at him. “What?”

  He gestured between them. “This. Us. It’s not exactly encouraged.”

  “That’s the understatement of the year.” Her thoughts drifted to the secret society of archangels and nephilim elders policing his kind. A quiver of fear pierced her belly. “I won’t let them hurt you, Jace. I’ll disappear forever before I put you in that situation.”

  His arms tightened around her. “Don’t even think like that, Isla. I won’t let them keep me from you.”

  Isla sat up and gazed down into his gorgeous blue eyes. She lovingly caressed his cheek. “They’ll strip you of your powers, Jace. They’ll never allow us to be together. The risk—”

  He pressed a finger to her lips. “I’ve checked, Isla. There’s never been a proven case of the mingling of demonic and angelic lines creating soulless or uncontrollable children. It’s all just myth and legend and what-ifs.”

  “But the covenants,” she protested.

  “Can go to hell.” His strident reply set her afire. “I’m not about to let arbitrary rules based on nothing but worst-case scenarios keep us apart.”

  Isla gulped at his fierce vow. “What are we going to do?”

  “I have a hearing with the elders in a few days. They’ll rule one way or the other after I’ve plead my case.” Jace pulled her down into his arms, tucking her cheek against his chest. “Lots of relationships have obstacles, Isla. We’re not unique in that aspect.”

  Isla inhaled deeply as she considered his point. Her parents had been complete opposites, her mother a full-blooded succubus and her father a warlock with extraordinary healing abilities. They’d made a fairly successful go of it with a wonderful marriage and healthy, happy kids. Only a blood feud between vampires and demons had come between them. In Isla and Jace’s line of work, anything was possible but she preferred to look toward the positive.

  She snuggled closer and kissed his jaw. “I have a feeling we’re in for some rough days ahead.”

  Jace tightened his hug. “In my experience, the things worth having don’t come easy.”

  “Am I one of those things?”

  Smiling, Jace kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve already risked my life for you once and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

  Isla basked in the warmth of his limitless and undying love. “You know,” she laughed, “I could almost kiss that bloodsucking hag for throwing us together.”

  Jace shuddered. “New rule in bed: no mention of you-know-who.”

  Isla giggled and moved closer. “Any other rules I should know about?”

  “Just one,” Jace said in between kisses. “You always come first…”

  About the Author

  While browsing bookstore shelves as a teenager, Lo discovered the erotic writings of Anaïs Nin and A.N. Roquelaure. Certain her mother would not approve, Lo smuggled the books home and squirreled them away in the most likely of places: under her bed. Late at night, she delved into the sensual worlds both writers created.

  As a coed studying biochemistry and genetics at Texas A&M University, Lo dabbled in creating naughty tales to entertain her friends. Study for a midterm or pen a deliciously dirty story to delight her small band of fans? Not surprisingly, Lo is now on an extended sabbatical from college.

  Luckily Lo stumbled onto the world of erotic romance publishers. She realized there were other readers who loved and craved breathtaking romance with the spiciest of love scenes. She took a chance and submitted her first novella. The rest is history.

  Lo lives in Texas with her family and beloved Great Dane, Bosley.

  To learn more about Lolita Lopez, please visit www.lolitalopez.com. Send an email to Lo at lopez.lolita@yahoo.com.

  It’s never a good idea to date your prey…

  Feral Passion

  © 2009 Stephanie Bedwell-Grime

  Xandra had a thing about vampires—like not dating one. Ever. But now that she’s on the hunt for the mastermind behind a newly formed vampire army, she’s sucking it up and dating every vamp in her little black book. Her prime suspect: Dante. Cop, vampire—and drop-dead gorgeous.

  As the police force’s vampire liaison officer, Dante is no stranger to crime. Feral vampires are attacking in droves, and he’s hell-bent on finding out who’s responsible before the backlash robs them all of their hard-won rights. His number one suspect: Xandra. Hunter, smartass—and sexy as sin.

  No one is more surprised than Xandra when Dante shows up as her date. Her cover is not all that’s blown during their mutual interrogation. Sparks of attraction fly—right before an attack leaves her gravely injured. With no choice but to inoculate her with his blood, Dante has more questions than ever before. Like who wants her silenced.

  As they race to uncover a long-buried secret, Xandra realizes she can trust no one. Not even Dante. Especially since his blood is giving her unpredictable side effects…

  Warning: Contains violence and hot and heavy vampire action.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Feral Passion:r />
  “I think—” she started to say. “I need—”

  And then the world slipped away from her.

  Dante cursed in the darkness. Motion stopped. With his arm slung across her shoulder, he walked across uneven gravel. He leaned her against a brick wall and ordered her to remain standing. The brick was still warm from the sun and comforting somehow. She couldn’t stop shaking. It seemed inevitable that she would be sick.

  She protested weakly when Dante moved her away from the warm brick. Keys jingled in his hand. The smell of mildew and disinfectant assaulted her senses.

  She tried to warn Dante about her nausea, but he herded her across the floor and lowered her to a lumpy bed. It creaked ominously as he lay down beside her.

  Xandra turned toward his warmth, the only comfort in the misery she couldn’t escape.

  “It’s going to be okay, Xandra,” he whispered.

  His breath ruffled her hair. She heard another sound, something wet and tearing.

  “Here.” Dante’s voice sounded disproportionately loud above the ventilation system.

  His wrist pressed against her lips. She tasted the saltiness of his skin and felt his arms tighten around her, as if he expected it to hurt. Thick, coppery blood seeped into her mouth. Even though her mind rebelled, her body remembered what to do. She swallowed reflexively.

  Dante’s blood flowed into her. Like electricity it rushed outward through her veins, repairing the damage the vampires had done to her. And for a moment she was content just to drink and be healed. Then gently, he pulled his wrist away.

  She clasped his wrist, desperately trying to bring it back to her mouth, but he firmly disengaged her fingers. She moaned at the sudden loss.

  “Easy,” Dante said. “Trust me, you don’t want to have too much.”

  Alarm bells rang in some distant part of her mind. No, she certainly didn’t want to have too much. That led to the inevitable changes that would make her a vampire. A creature like those hopeless fiends who’d attacked her.

  Her eyes flew open. Panicked, she stared at him.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, sensing her alarm. “You only had a little. Only enough to offset the effects of the virus.”

  The nausea had vanished. Pressed against Dante’s warm body, the shivers had ceased. Xandra felt stronger, clearer headed. She looked into his amber eyes, only inches from hers.

  He closed the distance. His mouth covered hers, possessive and demanding. His tongue probed the recesses of her mouth, seeking the remnants of his blood. It should bother her. A week ago, it would have. But the way Dante kissed her made her feel wanted and loved. And his blood coursed through her veins, making her strong.

  That strange feeling of being cared for brought a sudden rush of tears to her eyes. She gasped for breath. He pulled away.

  “Xandra?”

  “Shh.” She placed a finger against his lips to silence further questions.

  He studied her carefully. “If we’re moving too fast for you here—”

  She shook her head. “No.” How to explain this strange flood of feeling that touched places she’d kept hidden since her mother died? She didn’t even think she could summon the words.

  Rising, he held her against him while he pulled down the bedspread. She looked around the room, suddenly taking note of her surroundings.

  “Where are we?”

  “In a motel off the highway.”

  Danger brushed at her senses. She stiffened in his arms. “A motel? Why?”

  “I couldn’t run the risk of taking you back to your place. Or mine.”

  “Or the hospital?”

  “The hospital would only have made things worse. Not to mention they’d probably call your boss.”

  Memories of Jeremy’s dressing down rushed to the forefront of her mind. “It’s probably not a good idea to involve him.” She wondered how Jeremy had gone from a father figure to an enemy in less than a week. “But I don’t understand. Why does your blood make me better?”

  He brushed his lips against hers again, setting off little bursts of pleasure all down her spine. “We’ll talk about that later,” he whispered. He settled her back against the sheets.

  Dante stripped off his jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair. He pulled his T-shirt over his head and added it to the pile. Then he strode to the bathroom and returned with a wet wad of tissue. “Don’t use the towels,” he said, pulling up the leg of her pants and wiping the blood from the back of her knee. He tossed the tissue into the toilet and flushed it. “Not until you’ve showered.”

  Xandra nodded. The last thing they wanted to do was to leave DNA evidence in the motel. Evidence Jeremy could use against her. She unhooked her torque and put it on the night table with her cuffs.

  “I haven’t done anything wrong,” she protested. “Three times now I’ve been attacked and Jeremy’s making me feel like I’m a criminal.”

  “We need to find out why that is,” Dante said softly. Then he added, “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow,” she agreed.

  He reached for her. His callused hands slid down over her arms until his fingers located the hem of her gore-splattered shirt. Gently, he pulled it over her head and added it to the pile of clothes on the chair. Then, he lay down beside her again.

  She felt strangely vulnerable and exposed in just her bra. She nuzzled against him, burying her nose in the soft tangle of hairs in the center of his chest.

  “Hey,” he teased. Grasping her chin, he raised her head and kissed her again. His hair caressed her cheek, a contrast against the roughness of his beard. She buried her hands in his silken curls and returned the kiss. He moaned low in his throat.

  Hooking one arm beneath her neck, he lowered her back against the pillows. His body covered hers. His chest pressed against her breasts, still confined by the lacy material of her bra. She pulled away a little to peruse him more fully.

  Aside from tangle of downy curls, his chest was bare. Blond hair covered his forearms. With his head of unruly hair framing his face, he looked like a lion at rest. The light caught the earring in his left ear and the medallion around his neck.

  Dante was busy with his own study of her. His gaze centered on the pale peaks of her breasts nestled in her bra, then continued down the line of her ribcage to her hips. His hands followed in their wake as if he wanted to memorize her contours.

  His free land slipped behind her back and deftly undid the clasp of her bra. She let him pull the material away. He gazed down at her with those golden eyes and smiled.

  He kissed her lightly over the pulse point in her neck. She felt the touch of his lips down to her very core. He rained little kisses and tiny nips over her collarbone and then took the peak of one breast in his mouth. Xandra moaned.

  Dante raised his head and gave her a smile that promised far more of such pleasure. His even white teeth gleamed in the dim light. Not a fang in sight, she thought in relief, as he bent his head to taste the other.

  She threaded her hands through his curls again, demanding more of that caress that seemed to touch on every pleasure center in her body. And Dante complied. He moved lower, painting her ribcage with kisses and then dipping lower toward her navel and the waistband of her jeans.

  What’s a nice girl like me doing with a demon like you?

  I Married a Demon

  © 2008 Beverly Rae

  Jennifer Randall ignored her instincts and rushed into a vacation-fueled romance and quickie marriage to devilishly handsome Blake Barrington. But as a Level 10 Protector with the super-secret Society, how’s she supposed to keep the man she adores happy while hunting down gargoyles, zombies and other evildoers of the Otherworld?

  As if balancing work and newlywed nookie sessions wasn’t hard enough, now she’s been assigned to find the Bracelet of Invincibility before a high demon lord can claim it. And Blake seems hell-bent on distracting her at every turn.

  Blake Barrington will do anything to regain his mortality and live happily ever after
with the woman he loves. Including delivering to his demon lord the one object that could be his salvation—the Bracelet. Too bad part of the contract includes killing his wife. Getting around this small glitch might be doable…if his ghoul-cursed brother wasn’t after the prize, too.

  Jenn’s suspicions mount, and finally the evidence is undeniable. Her sexy spouse is a demon.

  Great. Now what? Shag her husband? Or shoot him

  Warning: Okay, so there’s graphic sexual language. So what? Trust me, if chopping off a few demons’ heads doesn’t bother you, why would the sex? Either way, it’s all good.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for I Married a Demon:

  At the exact moment I noticed him, he was only a few feet from me. Mr. Ta-DaH—my nickname for Mr. Tall and Dark and Handsome—lay sprawled like the King of the World basking in the sun, surveying his kingdom and the lowly subjects he allowed to share his beach. He held a drink in one hand and scrutinized me through dark sunglasses, his chiseled face a mask of controlled passivity except for the slight lift at the corners of his mouth.

  I’m good at playing cool. I have to know how to play it cool in my line of work—both of my lines of work. But this guy’s intense scrutiny was almost more than I could handle. With my sunglasses resting on the bridge of my nose, I nonchalantly spied on him, trying to appear unaware that he studied me. I tried to suck in my ass, hoping to make the dimples disappear, but knew the battle was lost before it began. How do you suck in a bottom, anyway? Is it the same as a butt clench? I sighed and hoped he liked women with junk in their trunks.

  The man was perfect. At least physically, but physical was all I had to go on. His wet hair, silky and shiny black, slicked away from his forehead and curled around his earlobes. Just the right amount of matching chest hair glistened with drops of perspiration, drawing my gaze to all the right places. Notice I said perspiration, not sweat. No one this good-looking ever sweats.

  I’m talking the perfect model of a man. The kind of man I’d buy if I could call in my order and have him delivered to my doorstep in thirty minutes or less. Remember how moviegoers went gaga over Matthew McConaughey when he started taking off his shirt? Yup, me, too. I was one of the hundreds, probably thousands of women, who sat through his movies, not caring about the plot. Instead we sat glued to our seats and waited for him to strip off his shirt and take the heroine to bed. Take M’s sex appeal and multiply it by a zillion times more heat and that’s what oozed from this guy.