Friday, October 28, 2016

Sneak Peek: Escaping Demons Saga by Stacy McWilliams (#pnr #demons @stacemcw)


Jasmine Johnstone's life was relatively normal until she was forced to live with the Stevenson family. As she stayed she found she had no choice but to battle mythical creatures. Strengths she never knew she possessed began to surface, surprising those around her. Her only chance of surviving the rising tide of evil was Nathan Stevenson. Could she really trust him as he fought against his love for her? With the world against them and time running out, would their love be enough to defeat demons? (204 pages)


Life has never been easy for Jasmine Johnstone, but failing for Nathan Stevenson brings a whole new level of difficulty. Since she arrived at his home he's blown hot and cold with her, turned against her and revealed a deadly threat. He is sworn to kill her, and fights against his love for her more than ever, but he knows he can't live without her. 

As they run from monsters, and each other, can their love survive? 
Time begins to run out and with new friends and enemies in the strangest places, will they learn who to trust in time? 
With their love stronger than ever, but forces pulling them apart, is love enough to keep them together or will Nathan's parents succeed in pulling them apart? (214 pages)

***This novella is the prequel to Luminosity**** 

Life was full of nothing but darkness for Nathan Stevenson until Jasmine appeared in his life. She brought his innermost desires to the surface. She burned her way through to his heart to become embedded in his soul. He knew she was dangerous but would she break down his wall as he dreamed of her touch and fought against the impulse to protect her? Would their love be enough to defeat his demons? Was he strong enough to resist her or would her light burn irrevocably? (95 pages)

Excerpt from Candlelight

School passed in a blur and that night, I spent my time catching up on all the work I had missed. The following day, an opportunity presented itself to me and I couldn’t resist getting my message across to that fucker.

James walked a little ahead of me during class time. It looked as if he headed to the library. He didn’t notice me as I looped around the corridor and caught him before he entered, pushing him into a disused office. I slammed him full force up against the wall and put my arm over his throat. I allowed my hands to morph into claws, holding them at a vein in his throat as fury pulsed through me.

I froze him with my powers. I could feel his powers trying to find a way around mine. I brushed them aside, as though they were no more than a fly in my face. Demon power raced through me and I stood tall before spitting out, “I know what you did and I know what you are trying to do. You won’t succeed. For every single time you try, I will ruin something you care about. You are not getting away with this; I will make sure of it…”

I broke off and turned my hand back to normal before I punched him full force in the nose. I relished the sound of the bone breaking. He would heal it in seconds, though he wouldn’t be able to get rid of the blood from Demon sight. Strolling towards the door, I called over my shoulder,

Mop yourself up, you disgusting piece of filth.”

About the Author

Stacy McWilliams is the mum of two boys, a wife and a writer. She loves reading a variety of genres and enjoy a diverse range of movies.

She writes paranormal romance and loves to meet new people.

Thursday, October 27, 2016

When I Grow Up (#amwriting #future #dirtyoldlady)

elderly lady writing

You never know how things will turn out. When I was in grade school, in the early days of the U.S. space program, I wanted to be an astronaut. I liked science and math and I loved reading Isaac Asimov and Robert Heinlein. What other qualifications did I need? I was devastated to learn that I would disqualified by my extreme myopia and the total absence of arches in my feet. (It never dawned on me that my gender might be an obstacle as well.)

In high school, Watson, Crick and Franklin had just deciphered the genetic code and I was determined to become a molecular biologist. My role models were Marie Curie and Jonas Salk. I imagined myself in the lab, making world-shaking discoveries to benefit mankind. Then I had the chance to do a summer internship in a food chemistry lab and discovered how incredibly boring laboratory research could be.

As I entered undergraduate school, my goal was to be a doctor. I took all the required pre-med courses, but the more I got to know my fellow aspirants to medical school, the less sure I was that I was on the right path. Meanwhile, I took some experimental psychology courses that suggested we were on the verge of understanding perception, planning and memory. I switched majors and got my next three degrees in cognitive experimental psych. At the same time, I started to study computers and programming, since computer modeling had become a popular tool for testing psychological theories about human cognition.

Two years out of graduate school, I was burned out on psychology research. All I seemed to be accomplishing was producing publications. I yearned for a more practical, useful career. My computer courses came in handy when I applied for a job as a programmer. It was love at first coding. I discovered that I had an aptitude for developing software. The disciplined, step-by-step approach I had cultivated during my years as a researcher was a huge advantage in the software arena. Meanwhile, I loved the fact that I could take my ideas and turn them, almost magically,  into an artifact that could have concrete, beneficial effects in the real world.

Then my husband (whom I had acquired along the way) and I got offered a two year contract teaching computer-related topics in Thailand. All of a sudden I was back in an academic setting, where I'd spent so many of my earlier years. Skills that I had expected never to use again—reading, writing and editing technical papers, planning research, doing statistical analyses—suddenly became relevant once more.

Back in the U.S., I returned to software engineering, this time at a higher level, as an expert consultant.  But at the same time, my husband and I developed a software product of our own and established a company to market it. Now in addition to producing code, I was writing user manuals, advertisements, brochures and demos. I was attending trade shows and talking to potential customers. As the treasurer of our small corporation, I was also paying bills, filling out government forms, and dealing with tax issues. 

In 1999 I published my first novel. I don't think that my career exploits up to that point had much to do with my aptitude for writing smut (though the heroine of Raw Silk happens to be a software engineer). However, many of the other skills I had acquired in my professional life turned out to be amazingly useful.

My computer knowledge obviously helps in today's world of on-line promotion. I developed the first version of my website using WSIWYG software but got terribly frustrated by the bugs and the lack of control. These days, I maintain my website manually, writing the HTML code by hand using templates developed by a graphic designer. It may sounds like a lot of work but making changes is fast, easy and most important, reliable. When I edited Cream, I was able to create a script that generated customized contracts for each of the forty odd contributors, based on a few items of information they entered in a web form. I've also considered doing some scripting to automate announcements for my blog and other news, based on my calendar.

My experience as a small business owner has made me moderately comfortable with the monetary aspects of my writing career.  I have no problem keeping financial records or dealing with taxes.

Probably the most vital characteristic derived from my professional life is my relatively disciplined approach to time management. I set aside specific times for idea generation, research, writing, and promotion. Both my software and research careers helped me to develop a capacity for managing detail, which gets more and more critical daily as the world of publishing and promotion becomes more complicated.   

So what happens next?  I have an image of myself in fifteen years, gray-haired and frail, sitting in front of my computer and writing hot sex scenes. Given the various twists and turns my professional life has taken to get to this point, I suspect this picture may be far from accurate. But then, you never know. Maybe I've finally discovered what I'm going to be when I grow up.

Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Weird Dreams and the Birth of the Hot Squad (#erotica #comedy #nsfw)

Giselle cover

By Dacy Alexandria (Guest Blogger)

Firstly I'd like to thank Lisabet for hosting my little bit of rambling that will hopefully entice you to read my new book Giselle and The HotSquad, published by eXcessica.

Apparently I have super weird dreams compared to the rest of humanity. For instance, I once dreamed I was getting a divorce from Kristen Stewart, and in the middle of court we were attacked by Nazi robots and were forced to rekindle our love to fend them off. Another weird dream was about a thirty year old woman who had to go to Italy to sort through her dead mother's remains and found many a magical object. This dream is the reason I'm with you on this lovely day. Unlike my team up with Miss Stewart I wasn't motivated to marathon Twilight, instead I was spurred on to write a supernatural movie script.

The age of the woman got brought down to eighteen, because being surrounded by eighteen and nineteen year olds in my ballet classes I knew them like they knew the best IG filters. The script was shifted from Italy to California, and the magically charged main character, then named Kate soon to be renamed Giselle, was given four super heroine friends and a vicious witch for foe. I thought I had a blockbuster on my hands. I was going to get this movie made easy peasy, be invited to many Hollywood bashes, and maybe just maybe use the Nazi robot dream story to hit on Kristen Stewart. I'm smooth like that, see me for my Pick Up Artist classes.

I took the script to a consultant named Melody Jackson, who happens to be a lovely woman. I had worked with her before on an award winning script I wrote, and she told me this one was hilarious, and had her not just writing LOL but literally LOL. Perhaps even LMAO? However, while Melody loved the script she thought the story would make a fantastic series of books, and convinced me to go that route.

I linked up with the awesome editor Elaine Ash and she helped me craft a novel with these cast of characters. The novel was supposed to be a procession of wild supernatural action. But then I wrote just a tiny scene where this petite hot-head, Dusty fondled the main character Giselle, and Elaine was floored. She declared that I had a gift for writing erotica and had to turn this into a erotic comedy. If there's three things I like, its sex, beautiful women, and wild jokes, and so like well trained Pokemon, Giselle and The Hot Squad evolved.

I think the funnest part of writing the story wasn't the wild sex, but is was changing the four girls besides Giselle from the script into her three dimensional roomies. I love Disney princesses so I got Princess Tristian Anna Maria Gunnarson, a figure skating, exotic dancing, sword swing royal from the country of Gyllengaard. I wanted a tough take no shit tomboy to counter Tristen's good breeding and developed the rocker chick Fleur. In the spirit of the eternal human quest to be the god of social media and my love of gingers, I created Sofi. Finally after my trip to Nashville to see Taylor Swift in concert (OMG!) where I found everyone is just darling and wonderful, I wanted Giselle to have the only rude person from Nashville at her side and little Dusty was born. 



I do very much hope you'll enjoy the story as much I enjoyed writing it. I was actually going through a severe illness during its creation, so I'm just happy to actually have it out and be able to speak with you. And if you like the book and get a laugh I'll be even happier!


It's the start of Giselle Nyfall's freshman year at the prestigious liberal arts school Drouin University in Manhattan. From the moment this well endowed innocent bounces in from Los Angeles, things go awry. A housing mix-up denies her a dorm and forces her to spend the first night in a male dorm with a cute but talkative conspiracy theorist. Only the instincts of a true exhibitionist earn Giselle some sleep. Thanks to the wicked temptress that heads student services, Giselle lands a living place much better than a freshman dorm: an upper east side condo! Giselle finds her roommates a strange oversexed lot, a rocker chick from Boston, a true blue princess, a vain Instagram starlet, and BB gun toting southern belle. Even weirder are the men of the condo complex, who appear to be placed under a devastating sex caused curse! The girls put aside their differences and throw themselves boobs first into a solution that probably won't get mentioned in any graduation speech.


Finally, the tour of the condo concludes with the not so grand finale of Giselle's room. The storage closet.

The master suite.” Fleur's wide sexy lips form a wicked grin.

What's in that box down there? Oh my god, is that a butt plug?"

The ginger bitch keeps hers in here. It can go up your ass, but it can't go in your dresser drawer?”

Ginger bitch? Butt plug stored like it's a spare bottle of Windex? Add that to the thong/boy short rule, the BB gun, and it all equals an even more confused Giselle Nyfall. What kind of oversexed zoo did Anika banish her to?

I can't stay in this room. It's a closet.”

Its classically cozy.”

There's no bed, and there's a butt plug.”

Pretend you're sleeping in a Hustler store.”

No one sleeps in the Hustler store! People do not sleep next to butt plugs! This is nuts. There has to be some mistake.”

I'm starting to think your parents may have made one.”

Giselle stomps past Fleur down the hall to the living room.

FLEUR TROUBADOUR, YOUR IRRATIONAL HARRASSENT OF THIS YOUNG LADY SHALL CEASE AT ONCE,” says another voice. This one has a silvery quality. Fleur shrinks.

Shit," she hisses at Giselle. "You got Viking Barbie on my ass.”

Viking Barbie?”

Viking Barbie appears, carried in by long, gorgeous powerful legs that reach up to a slender waist and a rock-hard ass. Beneath a luxurious frilled-sleeve shirt a pair of pendulous breasts fill out the floral pattern. Bright red lips form in a cupid's bow, resting above a rounded chin and square jaw. Her hair has been fussed over into a blond bob of rolling waves. The way she looks, the way she walks, the air around her seems like slow motion. If Fleur is a doll under a Christmas tree, then Viking Barbie is a goddess blessing The Empire State.

Welcome, Giselle. My name is Tristen.” Deep-set almond eyes appraise the newcomer. “If Fleur had only bothered to check her text messages, she would have known you were coming and spared herself exposure as a wretched bore. Yet, I am obliged to think her a fool for not simply directing you the fifth bedroom Come. I shall show you.”

Tristen leads the way to the room next to the storage closest.

My baddies, I opened the wrong door,” Fleur says with a halfhearted shrug.

The grey infused bedroom reminds Giselle of Anika's silver hair. Nearly everything is shades of grey. The accent rug, cushioned seats, a side table, are all one color scheme.

As happy as she is to have a real room, Giselle is distracted. “I know you. I've seen you on TV before!” Giselle exclaims to the tall blond.

Commoners often recognize royalty. I am Princess Tristen Maria Anna Gunnarsson, of the Gunnarsson royal family of Gyllengard.”

About Me

Dacy Alexandria is an erotic fiction author that has also taken home several screen writing awards under a different name at the Los Angeles Reel Film Festival and SkyFest, and happens to be a trained ballerina. He loves the possibilities of the supernatural but also the inherent weirdness of the everyday world and likes to combine the two whenever possible. Dacy likes to focus his erotica on new adults, which might explain why he can subsist on a steady diet of CW shows and cans of Starbucks double shot for days at a time. (18+ only please!)


Buy Links


Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Another chance to win (even if you're not in the US) (#giveaway #amazon #steampunk)

Rajasthani Moon Banner

Do you like steampunk? BDSM? Shifters? If so, you have another chance to win a copy of my outrageous erotic romance Rajasthani Moon over at Amazon. I've changed to odds to make it easier to win, since most of my free copies weren't claimed in my previous drawing.

To enter the drawing, just click here.

Want an excerpt? At your service!

Yeah, I know Amazon won't let you enter if you don't have a United States address. Ridiculous! Anyway, I'm running an alternative contest for those of you who are not in the US.

If you'd like to enter, just send me an email at contest [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com. Use the subject line "I want the book!". In the body of the email, tell me where you live. You don't have to give me your full address, just the city and country.

I'll enter all the internationl email entries into a drawing for a free copy of the book, which I'll award on November 13th, the same time my Amazon giveaway ends.

Review Tuesday: Swingers by Ashley Lister (#nonfiction #swinging #fantasy)

Swingers cover

Swingers: True Confessions from Today's Swinging Scene by Ashley Lister
Virgin Books, 2006

Fantasy is the heart of erotic writing. I like to imagine being sandwiched between two horny men, or boldly seducing an inexperienced young woman, or being tightly bound and used in unspeakably obscene ways by a powerful and implacable Master or Mistress. I read erotica partly to experience what it might be like to fulfill such fantasies. In fantasy we can savor the decadent and possibly dangerous activities we don't dare to attempt in real life, without worrying about conscience or consequences.

What happens, though, when we step over the line and make those fantasies real? In Swingers: True Confessions from Today’s Swinging Scene, Ashley Lister's scorching non-fiction title from Virgin Books, dozens of real people talk about what it's like to make their particular fantasies come true: ménages a trois, gang bangs, public sex, Roman orgies, lesbian lust, even being ravished by a werewolf. Okay, so the werewolf scenario is still a fantasy, but Walter and Wendy enact this imagined encounter in painstaking detail (on a moonlit night, in a deserted highway rest area, with the help of a rough, hairy stranger solicited via the Internet).

An accomplished erotic novelist, poet and columnist, Ashley has turned underground journalist in order to explore the mostly secretive world of swinging. His stated objective is to share the realities and debunk the myths about people who indulge in recreational sex. Ultimately, though, Ash is a story teller. Instead of a dispassionate examination of the varied activities and conventions of contemporary swingers, he has woven a lusty and entertaining tapestry from the personal stories of their sexual adventures (and occasional misadventures). He mixes direct quotations from his interviewees with his own (presumably imagined!) descriptions of their encounters - explicit sex scenes at least as hot as any you'll find in his novels. Sly Mr. Lister doesn't openly admit that one of his goals is to arouse his readers, but I'm sure that the effects of this book are not accidental.

At the same time, the varied definitions and activities clustered here under the broad heading of "swinging" do fascinate and inform. There's the happy threesome of Andrew, Brenda and Charlie (all names, of course, are fictional), who attend swing parties together but who find that they have the most intense and enjoyable sex together after they get home. Eve and Frank get their kicks "dogging": parking in deserted areas and letting strangers watch or participate in their sexual antics. Sam arranges a very special birthday present for Sandra: a visit, in their hotel room, from two well-hung guys who screw her while Sam watches. Deborah enjoys jacking off her male friends -- sometimes several at a time -- although she insists that she's not a swinger. Grace and Harry host parties deliberately choreographed to get their guests' blood boiling. Norman's and Olivia's sex life has blossomed since she began seducing other men and then recounting all the juicy details. Successful single career woman Shelly fantasized for years about a gang bang, and finally realized that she had to arrange one for herself.

Most of the voices in this book sound pleased and satisfied with their lifestyles, but Ashley doesn't omit the occasional awkwardness, discomfort, inadequacy and even negativity. One couple he interviews eventually separated, after trying swinging in order to "add honesty" to their relationship. Some couples set strict limits on what activities they're willing to engage in with someone other than their spouses. Some attend parties or sex clubs but never do find what (or who) they really want. Then there's the bizarre but compelling story of Xia, who arrives at a party to be told that she's the evening's "gang bang girl", and who is then fucked so often and so hard that her kidneys are bruised and her sex scraped raw—but who's more turned on by the experience than she's ever been before or since.

My personal favorite anecdote belongs to Sonia and Roger, who turn a night in the pub with some male friends into a public masturbation party. No one touches Sonia as she shows off and turns them all on, but the story hums with sexual tension. I found this particular tale such a turn-on because the scene was largely unpremeditated. Sonia and her husband had talked about exhibitionist and group sex fantasies, but the details, and the reactions of the other participants, were spontaneous. Anything could have happened.

My own experience with swinging has been largely consistent with the world described by Ashley's informants. On the one hand, it's exciting to be in an environment where the atmosphere is reeking with sex; where you're encouraged to view others as potential partners, and to flaunt your own sexual desirability. On the other hand, the scripted quality of sex parties ("protocol ... more rigid than you'd find at a Victorian tea party", according to one of Ashley's contributors), and the emphasis on physical attraction, reduce some of the appeal for me. I'd rather be surprised and overwhelmed by lust than expect it.

But of course, that's just my personal fantasy. Whatever your own favorite imaginings, you're likely to enjoy these accounts of people crossing the line to make their secret desires and obsessions real.

Monday, October 24, 2016

An Interview with Kimbra Kasch (#historical #vikings #KingArthur @KimKasch)

Morgaine Le Fey cover

Today I’m delighted to welcome Kimbra Kasch, author of Morgaine Le Fay and The Viking, to Beyond Romance. I always enjoy historical fiction, so I was eager to learn more about her book.

What inspired you to write this book? 

My first trip to Hamlet’s Castle in Elsinore, Denmark. My husband was born and raised in Denmark so when he took me to meet his Danish family, he took me to visit one of his country’s most fantastic sites. It was there that I first learned of the legend of Holger Danske, a Viking Warrior and heir to the throne. But that wasn’t even the most fascinating thing to me. I found out Holger was married to King Arthur’s half-sister, Morgaine Le Fay. And the legend got more interesting with every word. 

Hamlet's Castle

King Arthur was given Excalibur by The Lady of the Lake (a Norse Goddess) but he wasn’t the first or the last to be given such a gift…

Holger was given the sister sword to Excalibur – “CORTANA”.

I couldn’t forget about this Viking. When I went home I read all I could find about him…and Morgaine. The legends cross countries: France, Denmark, England, Ireland… I was mesmerized.

How did you come up with the title?

Morgaine (who is found in many legends, under many different names in many different countries: (e.g. Morgaine Le Fay, Morgan le Fay, Morgaine le Fey, Morgen, Morgain, Morganna, Morgant, Morgane, Morgne, Morge, and more) fascinated me most of all. In some legends she was a shield maiden who rode out in the front of King Arthur’s army. In other legends she was a sorceress and in some a Fairy. I had to read more about her. But when you put the legends of Morgaine together with the legends of Holger…I felt their story had to be told. 

It seemed so strange that people in America had only heard the portion of the tale that included King Arthur…maybe because that part of the story was all in English. But, if you could read French, Danish and English, you could hear the rest of the story.

What made you choose the main setting for your book?

My story travels from Britain to Denmark to France and back again. I couldn’t choose only one location when the story travels across continents, countries and an ocean. ;D

Viking House

If you could spend an hour in real life with one of your characters, who would it be and why?

I think I would want to talk with Morgaine the most. I would like to see why people thought she was a Fairy and a sorceress but mostly I would like to hear about her life as a shield maiden. For a woman to ride into battle and actually defend the men she loved is fascinating to me, a woman who sits behind a desk and types… ;D I mean, the worst thing that could happen to me is a hangnail or maybe a paper cut ;D

Tell us a little bit about the conflict in your story.

The conflict in my story involves Holger and Morgaine riding into battle against each other. The Vikings were not a friend to the Brits. Yet, somehow these two epic characters fell in love. It was not an easy journey or path to choose. King Arthur did not welcome a Viking to his table.

Do you write books in series? If so, share a bit about the series you currently have published or are coming soon.

I hate to say goodbye to characters I love. I keep thinking about them and writing about them.

This is the first book in a series of three… It starts with Morgaine and travels through time to tell more of the story.

So are you currently working on another story?

I am working on the third book in the Viking Series, which tells the true tale of Mordred, Morgaine’s son. Or at least the Viking perspective ;D

What sources do you use for research?

I gathered all the information I could about my story, including visiting many of the sites in my story. I traveled from Denmark to France to England and Ireland. I also pulled from the library and grabbed everything I could when I was in Denmark. 


It’s time to promo. What is your favorite marketing tool?

I am horrible at marketing. I am an introvert at heart…as many writers are. But I enjoy Pinterest, I have a Viking board where I pin pictures. Plus I love to post pictures to Instagram too.


Travel across oceans, continents and countries to discover the story of legendary Viking hero, Holger Danske, and his magical romance with King Arthur’s half-sister in Morgaine Le Fay and the Viking

This is the story of two warriors who never thought they’d find love, especially on the battlefield, yet standing poised against each other Morgaine and Holger face an attraction more powerful than any sword, stronger than any warrior and more magical than all the powers of Merlin.

Find Kimbra on your favorite social media:

Plus, on Instagram

Sunday, October 23, 2016

Sunday Snog 250: Fire in the Blood (#pnr #vampire #mm #giveaway)

Happy Sunday once again!

My Sunday Snog for today, the last Sunday before Halloween, is a dark, searing MM excerpt from my MMF vampire ménage Fire in the Blood.

Leave me a comment with your email address, and I’ll include you in the drawing for a copy of this book.

And don’t forget to visit Victoria’s Sunday Snog central, for more oral action!

You make me hungry, boy,” Etienne spoke softly, but Troy could not mistake the passion that vibrated in his refined voice. “She—she woke my hunger. Now it rages inside me, howling for satisfaction. All my good intentions—my decades of self-denial—brought to naught.”

He loomed over Troy, a massive presence, his huge hands clenched into fists by his side. Troy cringed, sinking into the cushions. He should have trusted his instincts. Etienne was dangerous. At the same time, Troy couldn’t tear his eyes away from those bottomless pools of blackness in the stranger’s face. His cock leaped and struggled, eager for freedom.

I want you,” Etienne growled. Two fingers under Troy’s chin, Etienne tilted Troy’s face up so that their eyes met. The huge palm of his other hand cupped Troy’s erection. Troy nearly shot his wad as the cool weight settled on his hot flesh. Etienne wouldn’t let him look away. “From the feel of it, you want me as well.”

Yes,” Troy managed to gasp, his cheeks burning with shame. “God help me, I want you.”

God?” laughed Etienne without any real mirth. “Do not expect any help from that quarter, petit.”

He tore open Troy’s shorts with such force that the button flew off into the darkness, then yanked the zipper down. Troy’s cock sprang out, the tip grazing Etienne’s silk shirt. Troy struggled for control. Etienne grinned, his lips stretched to reveal his teeth—blinding white, impossibly sharp.

The chair toppled backward. Troy landed on the splintery deck, his legs splayed, his dick waving in the air like an obscene flag. Then Etienne was on top of him, driving the breath out of his lungs. The giant nuzzled Troy’s neck while grinding his pelvis against Troy’s swollen cock. Etienne was hard, too—Troy could feel the unyielding bulk of the black man’s huge erection through the tailored trousers. His butt cheeks clenched as pleasure rippled up his spine. The giant could do anything to Troy, anything he wanted. Troy was powerless to stop him. Even if he wanted to.

Being helpless only made Troy hornier. Etienne nipped at the tender skin under his ear. Troy started at the sudden pain, mashing his cock into Etienne’s hardness. Etienne made a savage sound deep in his throat and reached down to capture Troy’s penis is a vise-like grip. Troy moaned and writhed in Etienne’s hand as the black man pumped him. He felt the needle-sharp points of Etienne’s teeth just pricking his skin. The sensation drove him wild. “More,” he groaned, thrashing under Etienne’s weight. He wanted to know what it would feel like to be pierced, opened, torn apart.

Being taken by Etienne, used for his pleasure, was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced. He hovered on the edge, tension coiled in his balls, blood pulsing in his captive cock, waiting for Etienne to consume him. The world was blurry and gray around him. Etienne’s chill fingers, Etienne’s mouth, Etienne’s massive cock—these were his only realities.

But reality shifted. The other man pulled back to kneel between Troy’s thighs, still gripping Troy’s rod. Troy whimpered in disappointment. Etienne gave an evil chuckle. “Don’t worry, petit. I am not giving up. Your jacques is just too delicious to ignore.”

He bent over Troy’s prone form. Troy watched Etienne’s back muscles shift, straining the fine cloth of his shirt. Ghost-cold flesh flickered over Troy’s knob, making him groan. Then his whole cock was submerged in ice water.

He went rigid with shock. Acute delight sliced through him, fierce as pain. An arctic whirlpool caught him, sucking and pulling at his heated flesh. The cum rose in his stalk, brought to a boil by Etienne’s frigid mouth.

He didn’t fight; Etienne had stripped away all choice. Troy just let go. Violent shudders rocked his body as he poured his cum down the other man’s throat. Every nerve sparked, a thousand sensations building into a storm of pleasure that thundered around him.

As the tempest ebbed, when he thought that he’d known every possible variant of pleasure, he felt Etienne’s teeth enter his flesh, and he knew that he had been wrong.