Sunday Snippet: Not on the Same Page

July 17, 2016

Another week of not losing any favorites on The Last Ship. Now I'm really concerned whoever is next will completely gut me. The Greens need to stay safe, at least long enough for a lovely family reunion. I actually fear something will happen to Mrs. Green because that's so not the obvious choice. I'll say this… if the president or Jacob the asshat reporter tries to harm her, I'll come after them. (In actuality, it'll probably be the blonde advisor—whose name I can't be bothered to remember—who does something awful to Kara, which, yeah, will add her to my list of 'deserves to die in a fire' candidates.)

Killjoys had a terrific episode this week. I'm excited to watch the next episode. Really interested in finding out more about Dutch's history, but I also want to see more about Johnny and D'Av, too. Sprinkling in small details about Pree, Pawter, and Alvis along the way is always welcome, too. I'm a little less into the whole nine thing, but I could become intrigued if they play that out a little over this season and really dive into it during the next season. (hint, hint).

Dark Matter jumped up on the interest chart again. I have a sneaky feeling there's been a switcheroo regarding One and I'm looking forward to finding out if my theory is correct. That said, I'm enjoying the dynamic with the remaining crew and the newcomers. We'll see if that continues. J

Babylon 5 and Strike Back rewatches are ongoing. I'm leaning toward a Banshee binge since I'll finish up Strike Back before B5 is complete. I'm also debating whether to start a few of the Netflix series I've wanted to dive into. Decisions, decisions.

Enough TV. Tonight's post is from Not on the Same Page, a novella that got a start with a written quote: I thought we were talking about wanting the same thing.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Irini Domaine loves Nathair Sofen but marries another to fulfill a familial obligation. When she suggests carrying on the relationship with Nathair he coldly refuses, which makes Irini vow to slowly but surely convince him otherwise.

And a preview snippet…

Nathair jerked awake, the bed no longer warmed by Irini's presence. He yawned and stretched, sitting up to swing his legs over the edge of the mattress. He blinked the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes and glanced around, hoping to hear the shower running.

Silence met his ears. "Iri?" He stood thinking she might be in the kitchen.

No aroma of fresh-brewed coffee met his nostrils and she always needed a jolt of caffeine to start the day. Wandering to the doorway, he didn't bother with clothes. He planned to drag Irini back to bed the first chance he got.

Making his way through the small cottage, he discovered her gone, no trace of her left behind. Unsettled, he finally dressed, made coffee, and exited the cottage, determined to find her. Maybe she got an early callout and didn't want to wake him.

His blood ran hot at the sight greeting him when he left the house. Banners and confetti lined the street, announcing the nuptials of a happy couple. The names on the signs sent a surge of pain and anger ripping through his system.

Irini Domaine and Braca Norj.

Married at dawn. Uniting the families. Forming a new cornerstone for the community.

His coffee cup hit the ground and bile rose in his throat. Shuffling forward, the world spinning sideways, his only thought to seek her out and call her wedded bliss for the utter bullshit it had to be. With each stride forward, his step grew stronger and his gait more precise. He strode through the throng of people, which grew thicker the closer he got to the town square. The grotto, surrounded by well-wishers, lit up with golden and pale pink light, the colors of the two families.

Nathair pushed his way to the front of the crowd, ready to call his lover out. "Irini!" His voice sounded like a whip, cracking through the laughter and joy surrounding the couple.

Irini tensed but nodded, pasting a bright smile on her face. "Nathair. Thank you for coming to wish us well." She held out a hand clasped his palm within hers.

When her gaze met his, determination and, well, fear filled the normally sparkling depths. She basically gave him the lay of land without saying a word. She'd done her duty by marrying to unite the two houses and something about the union—or maybe his reaction—had her fingers trembling in his grasp.

Nothing scared Irini. To openly show fright, even if only to him, kicked his ire down several notches. Instead of making the scene he planned, he directed his attention to her groom and gave him a tight smile.

Facing Irini again, he squeezed her hand. "All the best to you for the future." He sounded terse but he couldn't do any better.

He'd miss the silky glide of her skin against his, but he didn't outwardly show a reaction. His goodbye couldn't be clearer and when sadness crept into her gaze, he hardened his heart against the stab of remorse for putting it there. She didn't warrant his care or concern. Not anymore.

Stepping away from the couple, he turned and walked back to his cottage, ignoring everyone and everything along the way. Entering into his quiet home, he glanced around and when the rage built again, he unleashed the fury, sending a whirlwind spinning throughout the domain.

Never again.

Irini had taken his love and burned it to the ground. She married another man, putting a centuries' old pact—not even enforceable anymore—ahead of everything else. Nathair didn't care what he destroyed in his wrath.

Because Irini had wrecked him. Left him broken, bleeding, and emotionally torn.

Ruined.

His head snapped up and the swirling wind ceased. "No. She doesn't have power over me." Bending down, he started picking up the mess he'd created. "Not anymore."

I'm not a huge angst writer, but this one has a large dollop to start things off. LOL

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Not Gonna Happen

Well, The Last Ship didn't kill any of my favorites last week. On one hand, this makes me very happy. On the other, I'm now wondering when, who, and how much it will destroy me when they take out a crewmember. LOL

Killjoys continues to rock my world. I love the show so much. I also love seeing so many familiar faces from other genre shows. Same goes for Dark Matter. After a "meh" opening episode, this week's turned out to be so much better with the possibility of a few cast shake-ups. I'm a little iffy on where things are going but I'm in for the ride.

The rewatch of Babylon 5 is up to the start of season two. I'm also in season two of Strike Back. Summer is great for sinking into and revisiting old favorites.

Tonight's post is from Not Gonna Happen, a novella started with the writer's prompt of slasher film in the woods.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Gina Ames and Tuck Danvers sign up for a weekend of hunting for an urban legend. When their other team members start dropping, one by one, they take off for the safety of the city. Too bad the concrete and steel can't protect them from what follows them home.

And a preview snippet…

For once, Gina didn't argue with him. Tuck thanked providence or whatever ruled the universe. Any other time, she'd be digging her heels in, trying to head toward danger instead of away.

Losing Jake and Marley changed everything.

Sticking close to his back, Gina spoke in low tones. "So, what's the plan?" She kept her gaze fixed on the tree line and a finger hooked through a belt loop of his jeans.

Tuck shrugged. "Find a busy, well-lit place to sit down and figure one out." He hit the sidewalk and made a beeline for the street.

Gina let go and wrapped an arm around his waist when they crossed the deserted intersection. "Gonna be hard to find something at three in the morning." She glanced back over her shoulder and sighed. "Still there. He's crossing in the middle of the block, where the street light isn't shining as bright." Burrowing into his side, she shivered a little.

Tuck put his arm around her, hauling her close. "Let's hit the Waffle Hut." The place never closed and shined line a beacon to interstate traffic.

Gina grunted in agreement. "I could go for waffles and home fries." Her gaze slid sideways. "We're only assuming it won't risk coming into the light. What if we're wrong?"

She made a good point. "We'll cross that bridge when we have to. It's a safe bet it's only after us and we can haul ass if necessary." His gut suggested they'd be in the clear once they got somewhere with other people.

Whatever the hell they'd drawn out of the catacombs only wanted their blood. His instincts rarely steered him wrong and he counted on their guidance at the moment. Because losing four friends over what should have been a lark had his brain tied up in knots.

Gina nudged him. "Stop it. We're almost there. Think about the others when we're not out in the open." She took the lead, her hand grasping his.

Tuck breathed easier when they breezed through the door and found an empty booth by the windows. The creepy creature hovered outside, staying in the shadows. So far, so good. If the thing didn't like light, Tuck and Gina had a small advantage.

Gina waved the waitress—a familiar face—over. "Hey, Shirl. Coffee, please. And a number five special." She glanced in Tuck's direction. "You want the same?"

Tuck nodded. "Yeah. Bacon instead of sausage." He flashed a smile. "And scrambled eggs?"

Shirl shot him a mock glare. "Always gotta make things difficult, don't you?" Her lips curved in a grin. "But you're so handsome I can't say no." She winked at Gina. "Let me know when you get tired of him, honey." Tucking her order pad into her apron pocket, she sashayed to the counter and called out their request.

Gina laughed. "Coming here was a good idea. A little slice of normal to ground us in reality." She fiddled with the placemat, going silent.

Tuck covered her fingers with his. "We'll figure out what happened, Gina." His thumb stroked her skin.

Her head snapped up, determination in her gaze. "Damned right we will."

I had no idea what I'd end up with based on the prompt, but I'm having great fun writing this story.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Not Enough Hope

Ahhh, The Last Ship makes me so very happy. And none of my favorites ended up dead in the last episode so there's that, too. I won't hold out too much hope for a death free episode tonight. Best to be prepared, right?

Killjoys came back with a bang. Gotta say I'm super happy to see it back on my screen. Here's hoping the whole season is as terrific as the premiere.

Dark Matter… eh, I was a little disappointed in the opener. That said, there are some interesting developments, especially given the ending. I'll reserve judgment before deciding if season two is a bust.

The finale for Wynonna Earp rocked. Fingers are still crossed for a second season. Some great seed were planted for future threads and I hope Syfy gives this show a chance.

Babylon 5 rewatch continues. I'm almost through the first season and so many little things I missed on the other viewings are popping up. I love when that happens.

Strike Back is also entertaining me with the same things happening. I catch small things I missed when I watched the first time.

That's it for TV this week. Hope everyone enjoys the fireworks shows if they like that kind of thing. Me? I'm happy watching them on what else… television. J

Tonight's post is from Not Enough Hope, a novella that started with the prompt of write a story that involves a lie.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Early Gibbons walks away from her position in the fae court—and Salem Powell—to forge her own path in the human realm. When she discovers a vengeance hound on her trail, she returns to the land of fae to find out who unleashed the beast, which may be tricky since Salem is the leader and she can't discount him as the culprit.

And a preview snippet…

The first fingers of dawn streaked through the sky when he lifted the latch on the gate and walked up the well-tended path to the small cottage. Knocking three times, he stepped away from the door and braced for impact.

Several moments passed and he turned, frustrated he'd even thought about stopping so early. He got three feet away when the door jerked open, revealing Early clad in a fluffy robe, her hair dripping wet rivulets on the collar.

She eased back and gave him a nod. "Salem. Had a feeling you'd be here early." Sweeping her arm toward the interior, she invited him inside. "Coffee's on, so help yourself. Give me a moment to get dressed and I'll join you." She didn't wait for a response, assuming Salem would do as directed.

Even though caffeine sounded just about right and lifesaving, he perversely refused to go further than the foyer. She'd had a feeling he'd be here early? Had she drawn him with her spellbinding magick? He had no idea what she'd been into in the human realm. He couldn't discount the possibility she'd gone over to the dark arts and become involved with the outcasts who practiced black fae magick.

Early emerged from the bedroom, dressed in a flowing shirt and wine-colored leggings. Salem cast his gaze in her direction and gave her a slow onceover.

She stopped and rolled her eyes. "Oh, sweet universe, Salem. I haven't gone all dark side on you." Throwing her hands up, she stomped into the kitchen. "You can believe the worst of me but, dammit, never, ever, think I'd throw my lot in with the black souls who practice that dangerous hoodoo shit." Her displeasure had coffee sloshing out the mugs she poured the liquid into.

She grabbed a towel to mop up the mess, muttering obscenities.

Some things never changed.

Picking up the cups, she carried them into the small living area, handing one to him. "You're easy to read, Salem. At least to me. Not that hard to figure what your next move would be." Stepping back, she met his gaze. "This may not mean jack, but I'll never use magick on you. I give you my word." Her tone dared him to not believe her.

Salem studied her for several long moments before taking a bracing gulp of the strong brew. "I'll accept your word for now. But trust doesn't come easily." He nodded toward the seating arrangement by the fireplace. "We'll have to rebuild some of the bridges you burned." Following her, he took the chair after she settled onto the couch.

Early sighed. "A massive undertaking, I know." She gave him a sideways glance. "I had no other choice but to come back, Salem. I couldn't let the hound roam around in the human realm."

And didn't she nail the problem on the head with one, brief statement.

I'm really enjoying the discovery in this story. This one is pretty much total pantster. J

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Not Again

So… premiere for The Last Ship? Everything I expected and more. I have so much love for this show. I'm also going to have a huge bar tab by the time the season ends if episode one is any indication. I almost sit on the edge of my seat hoping like hell none of my favorite characters will meet their end.

And of course, some of them do. LOL

I've got a bunch of theories about this season, which I won't share to avoid possible spoilage… but I don't trust the president at all. One specific moment in the premiere episodes turned the table with how I feel about that guy. Just saying.

Currently watching the finale of Wynonna Earp and my fingers are crossed for a second season. Have no clue if Syfy will be cooperative and make that happen or not.

Still rewatching Babylon 5 and Strike Back. I'd forgotten how much Strike Back crammed into each episode, especially during the first season. Contrast the breakneck pace with Babylon 5's slower build in its first season. I sometimes miss having a nice, long arc to settle into a show and really get to know the characters.

Killjoys and Dark Matter return soon and I'm patiently waiting to get back into the gritty realm of both. Bring it on.

Tonight's post is from Not Again, a novella built on the two-word prompt of "hell, no". Honestly, I love two-word prompts. So many ideas can spur from something truly simple.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Drue Braddock and Xeno Howlett have a rocky relationship, but when Drue goes off on one of her many soul searching quests, Xeno decides he's had enough. When Drue returns, she finally knows what she wants—Xeno—but she may not get her chance because he's got someone new in his life.

And a preview snippet…

Xeno closed his eyes a moment then walked toward the bedroom. Stopping outside, he leaned his head on the jamb. Dammit. Drue returned at the worst possible time.

As usual.

The soft sound of the knob turning gave him a brief warning and when he glanced up, his gaze met Lydia's angry one. She stood, naked, and poked her head out of the room. Finding the coast clear, she edged past Xeno and flopped down onto the couch.

Curling her legs under her, she draped an arm over the back of the cushions. "Drue certainly makes her presence felt, doesn't she?" A yawn escaped before she could squelch it.

Xeno moved to sit in the chair perpendicular to the sofa. "Yeah, and I’m sorry she woke you." He dropped his head back against the top of the seat.

Lydia shifted position and leaned in close. "I'm not. After hearing what you've had to deal with on and off for five years, I have a better appreciation for your reticence to commit fully to our relationship." Bracing her hands on his knees, she waited until he met her gaze before continuing. "That said, I think we should retire to the bedroom so I can remind you who's here and has no plans to leave any time soon." She got up slowly, giving him ample view of her assets.

Xeno followed her into their room, pushing memories of Drue aside. Normally when she came back, they'd spend three or four days in bed, making up for lost time. Part of Xeno craved the intimacy he shared with Drue during the reunion phase. The other side accepted Lydia's presence and her offer to wipe Drue's visit from his mind.

Okay, she actually wanted him to remember she lived here now and wouldn't go running because his former flame came knocking. A smarter woman would never underestimate Drue. But Lydia relied heavily on magickal intuition, which usually served her well.

But she had yet to experience Drue in full-on territorial mode. Xeno didn't relish playing referee between the females, yet he didn't have the heart to warn Lydia about being out of her league.

The bitter tang of being a total shit rested briefly on his tongue until Lydia tugged him down to the mattress and got him undressed. Once she had him naked, he forgot to feel guilty about anything. Fifteen minutes later, sated, spent, and spooned up behind feminine curves, Xeno drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Too bad his dreams focused on Drue.

I'm not quite sure where this one will end up, but it's been fun setting things up so far.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Nature Calls

Well, tonight is the rescheduled premiere date for The Last Ship. I fully respect TNT's decision to postpone the airing and I'm very much looking forward to watching the start of season three.

Wynonna Earp's lead-in to the finale blew my mind. I'm not sure if the show will have a second season, but I'm so hoping it does. That said, I don't trust Syfy the way I used to. At least I know Killjoys and Dark Matter will be showing up soon.

Orphan Black. Wow. Seriously, just wow. While I'm incredibly sad next season will be the last, I'm also kind of excited because I know it'll far surpass anything I expect or can anticipate. As for the finale, once again, Rachel proved she's the biggest bitch on the planet. I'm rather looking forward to a major toppling of her reign of terror. I can always keep my fingers crossed that what she thinks she wants and deserves ends up being her total undoing, right?

Still working my way through the first seasons of Babylon 5 and Strike Back. Someday, when I have copious amounts of spare time, I want to get back into recapping and sharing my joy for my favorite shows. There's something fun and rewarding about interacting with other fans.

Tonight's post is from Nature Calls, a sexy short built on the prompt of nature documentary; binoculars. I loved it and decided to add a small spin on the idea by adding a supernatural element to their documentary work.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Kacee Biehl follows Russ Romanova through crazy adventures for their webcast series about urban legends. She's got it bad for the handsome host and on the last day of their shoot, she makes a move, thinking she has Russ right where she wants him. But Russ has other ideas and turns the tables on Kacee—giving her exactly what she needs.

And a preview snippet…

Russ pocketed his knife without breaking eye contact with Kacee. Her sharp inhalation gave him pause, but the way she wet her lips with her tongue sealed his next play in her little game.

Stepping forward, he traced a finger over her collarbone starting from her shoulder then dipping into the hollow at her throat. Sliding the tip downward, he paused at the front clasp of her bra. A quick moment later, her breasts were bared to the cool forest air. Her nipples puckered and a bolt of lust zinged through Russ. She had incredible tits.

Flicking his gaze to hers again, he quirked an eyebrow. "You ready to tell me where my binocs are yet?" The urge to palm the luscious globes of flesh almost overwhelmed him.

But he didn't want to rush this illicit moment. She'd obviously set the stage, he wouldn't disappoint her by letting the scene unfold too soon. Besides, he needed to see how far she'd let him go.

Kacee tilted her head to one side. "Not quite, no." A sexy smirk curved her lips. "I'll let you know if you're getting warmer though."

Russ snorted. "That's not how we're going to play this, Kacee." His hands skimmed along her sides, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. "First, I'm going to thoroughly search you, then I'll consider other options." And looking around without help didn't enter his mind.

Kacee squirmed, trying to get closer to him. "Have at it, Russ. Not like I’m going anywhere."

He smiled. "No, you're not." He finally caved and palmed her bare tits, then leaned in close to whisper in her ear. "I rather like this whole stripping you down thing." Taking a moment to knead the twin handfuls of flesh, he resisted the urge to take a taut nipple between his lips.

Kacee let out a low moan. "Russ… I think we've established the binoculars aren't hiding in my cleavage."

He chuckled. "Mmm. So we have." His hand trailed down her tummy and dipped under the waistband of her leggings. "Maybe it's time to go a little lower." He teased his fingers along the edge of her panties before removing his palm from her pants and stooping down to untie and loosen the laces of her boots. Standing back up, he cupped her mound before leaning in to give her another order. "Kick off your shoes, Lace. It's time to do a more thorough search." The heat between her legs kicked his libido up another notch.

Kacee did as he requested, kicking her boots off to stand on her sock-clad feet.

Russ gave a low whistle. "Geez, you're hot." He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her leggings. "I'll bet you're soaking wet, too." Pushing her leggings and panties down to her knees, he then placed his palm at the apex of her thighs. "Ready to find out?" Her bare mound radiated warmth.

Kacee gave a jerky nod, but didn't speak.

Russ definitely got his wake-up call and now he's running with it. I'm having so much fun with this one.

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Muddy Up the Waters

YAY! The Last Ship premieres tonight and I’m very excited! In other television news, it's definitely summer and I've only got two active shows going until later this evening.

Wynonna Earp is crazy good. I need to watch this week's episode, but last week's twist caught me off guard. In a totally great way.

Orphan Black's lead-in to the finale proved excellent as always. Rachel continues to grate on my nerves, but kudos to her for playing Evie Cho and outmaneuvering her with such brutal precision. And, of course, the surprise at the end made the episode kick ass awesome.

I started a rewatch of Babylon 5 and Strike Back. I know, opposite ends of the spectrum but both are terrific shows. I need to find something else to watch after these. Any suggestions… let me know.

Tonight's post is from Muddy Up the Waters, a novella that got a start with a two word prompt of "That's right".

Here's the mini-blurb:

Fiona and Warrick can't quite get their timing together long enough to be on the same page when it comes to making a commitment. Instead they expend their energy on playing a game of who can hurt who the most… until one decides enough is enough.

And a preview snippet…

He expected the kiss when it came, but not the intense backwash of emotion that smacked him in the face. Yeah, Fiona usually got him revved and ready in record time, but her mouth worked magic on his lips. She gave freely and poured soul into the embrace.

Definitely unexpected.

Fiona did smoking hot sex. She did fast and dirty and out of this world. She did not throw exposure of her feelings into the mix. She always held back, kept a barrier around her heart.

But the way she kissed him, right now? Full-on physical contact with a lot of something more? Blew his mind.

His fingers tangled in her hair and he fully engaged. Each brush of her tongue against his kicked up the lust and love flowing through his brain. He didn't even realize they were moving until her back hit the wall and she pushed up onto her toes to wrap her legs around his waist. Warrick quickly grabbed two handfuls of her ass and carried her to the nearest flat surface—the window seat in the middle of the exterior wall. Perching on the edge, he continued moving his mouth over hers, but the painful throb of his cock became a distraction.

He eased away from her. "Fi, a little help here." His gaze dropped to the hard outline nestled against the apex of her thighs.

She blinked, her eyes dazed with passion. "What? Oh. Yeah, no problem." With fumbling fingers, Fiona popped the button of his jeans and dragged the zipper down.

He lifted his hips, giving her room to shove the denim past his hips. He breathed a sigh of relief, until she circled her fingers around the rigid flesh. Damn. He couldn't wait to be inside her.

He groaned and slid his hands under the waistband of her leggings. "God, I need you." Pushing the material down, he lowered the pants.

She wriggled back, kicking one leg free then scooting forward and lifting up to sink down over his shaft. The heated, slick warmth enveloping his dick felt like home and he never wanted to leave. Digging his fingers into her thighs, he exhaled slowly, fighting to stay in control.

Fiona made a satisfied hum. "Mmm. You feel so damned good." Her hips rocked forward and her head fell back.

He moved a hand to her nape, tipping her chin forward. "Not gonna last, Fi. It's been too long." He held her gaze, tilting his pelvis upward.

She sucked in a breath. "Don't care. More later." Grasping his shoulders, she bucked against his groin.

Warrick gave her full rein, letting her set the pace. More later meant she'd stick around… at least for the night.

Gotta say, I had no clue where this one was headed until recently, but this scene poured out in one sitting. J

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye

Sunday Snippet: Mr. and Mrs. Black

Whew. Even though the television pickings are fairly slim for the next week or so, still some great stuff to watch.

Orphan Black, once again, didn't disappoint. One of the things I love about this season is how nuanced the layers are. Every time something is resolved, a new snag reveals itself. The enemy of yesterday is the ally of today. Terrific writing and stellar acting make the entire show shine.

Wynonna Earp still makes me happy. I'm intrigued by the little seeds dropped here and there and look forward to more of the origin backstory.

The Last Ship starts next week and I can't wait to see where things go. I'm kind of holding out hope some underhanded tactics are being used regarding Rachel, but I won't hold my breath. This show loves to kill off my favorite characters. LOL

I'm sadly not overly excited about some of the other newer shows. Preacher didn't really grab me with the trailers and I never got into Fear the Walking Dead. I do look forward to the return of Killjoys and Dark Matter, which should provide some good fodder for my blog posts.

And that's it for television this week.

Tonight's post is from Mr and Mrs Black, a novella built on a writer's group prompt of interpreting the hot house scene from Mr and Mrs Smith. Fun, right?

Here's the mini-blurb:

Ember and Winter Smoak, assassins for opposing factions, are ordered by their respective employers to kill each other, which would so much easier if they weren't happily married, but hiding some big secrets—like their occupations—from each other.

And a preview snippet…(it's wee bit hot and steamy)

Win loved having Ember's mouth wrapped around his cock, which she clearly intended to indulge in very soon. But he wanted to finish what he started by bringing her off first. Besides, watching her lose control always turned him on and revved him up to peak performance.

Keeping his thumb moving over her bundle of nerves, he caught her mouth with his, mumbling between kisses. "Hold up, Ember. You're so damned hot and wet; I need to see you come." He dragged his tongue over her bottom lip.

Ember shuddered. "Mmmm. I'm close, Win." She unfastened his belt and lowered the zipper, working her hand around his shaft. "And your dick is so hard. Will watching me come make it harder?" She tugged on the rigid flesh in her palm.

Win hissed out a breath. "Hell, yes. You know it will." He shoved her shirt up to find bare breasts. "Hmmm. Convenient." He palmed a globe, relishing the satiny feel of her skin.

He lowered his head to draw a taut nipple between his teeth, worrying at the nub. He pressed his thumb on her clit and resumed pumping his fingers in and out of her pussy. Ember gripped his cock and it swelled in her hand. Her head fell back against the window and she moaned. Win increased the pressure of his thumb and sucked hard on the pebbled tip.

Ember dragged in a breath, her exhale raspy and shallow. "God, Win. More." Her hips bucked against his hand.

He gave her what she wanted, turning his fingers in the opposite direction to rub against the internal sweet spot. Ember's knees buckled and she gasped with a strangled groan. Riding the wave of bliss, she loosened her grip on his dick.

Not a bad thing since he hovered damned close to the edge, too.

He removed his fingers from her core and licked them clean while drinking in the sight of her disheveled beauty. Afterglow looked really good on Ember. With her shoulders braced against the window, the reflection of her creamy skin shimmered around her.

Ember got her breathing under control and lowered to her knees. She used one hand to draw his hard cock toward her and the other to shove his pants past his hips. Wrapping her lips around the head of his dick, she swirled her tongue around the spongy tip before hollowing her cheeks to firmly suck as much of his shaft into her mouth as possible. Pulling back, her teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, exactly the way he liked.

His hands shot to her head, his fingers threading through her hair. He didn't guide or direct her motions, giving her free rein to do as she pleased. But he loved the feel of her silky tresses caressing his skin. The whisper-soft glide a stark contrast to the increasing pressure of her mouth.

Bobbing her head back and forth, Ember moved a hand to cup his balls, rolling them in her palm. Win moaned and pumped his hips forward. He teetered on the brink of pleasure.

Ember glanced up, holding his gaze. She jiggled his ball sac in her hand and pulled hard on his erection with her lips. She increased the speed of her up and down motion, swirling and flicking her tongue along the veiny surface of his shaft. Reaching behind him, she gripped his ass, her fingers digging into the muscle briefly before she let go and smacked him hard with stinging blow.

Oh, yeah. Just what he needed.

This one is a little on the kinkier side for me. The characters do not want to be reined in, so I give them their lead and follow where they take me. LOL

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye