Published
in MAGIC AND DESIRE - a Black Lace Paranormal Novella CollectionPlease be aware that this excerpt contains sensual content that is only suitable for adult readers who are comfortable with frank language and descriptions of erotic scenarios
Published
in MAGIC AND DESIRE - a Black Lace Paranormal Novella Collection
Blurb
Do you believe in magic?
Lois doesn't... until she goes on holiday to a remote seaside cabin and meets a Dream Lover who's deliciously real.
Available from Amazon.co.uk
Excerpt
The door swung back just like in an old Dracula movie and a figure appeared in the doorway.
And she didn’t have the slightest idea who he was.
Who the hell are you, Dream Lover? And boy, do you know how to make a big entrance!
Dream Lover was a cliché as well as a total stranger. Your actual tall, dark and handsome, but with a twist, and dressed all in black - a long coat, close fitting tee shirt, jeans, and boots.
And he had the most amazing hair!
It was almost black, yet also blond. Like ebony frosted with gold, and cut short, but not too short. A touch of wild, natural curl set off its startling pale tipping and made it appear to glow in the dim room like a halo, its brilliance second only the fire in its owner’s gleaming, flashing eyes.
Lois blinked. There was something weird about those eyes, but their very brightness made it impossible to work out what it was. She could only stare into them, like a willing patsy totally hooked by a hypnotist’s spinning coin.
Talk about a fantasy man!
This is a dream, you fool! Of course he’s a fantasy man…
But still, why the hair? And the eyes that she wished she could see better.
She must have conjured him up from the very depths of memory, from some long lost book she’d read, or image she’d once seen. A world of faeries or earth spirits, of beings of supernatural power and alchemical attraction that she’d loved in more innocent times before she’d become a techno-geek.
But choose however she’d cooked him up, God, how she wanted him! Between her thighs, she grew wetter, wetter, wetter…
The apparition didn’t speak, and Lois couldn’t. But still those amazing eyes pinned her to the spot, widening with an unmistakeable hunger. He zeroed immediately on her cunt, and his fine cut nostrils flared as if he'd smelt her. Which wasn’t surprising, because she could certainly smell herself.
Come and get it, big boy! It’s all here on a plate for you and ready…
And the more she stared at him, the more she thought he was a dish fit for a queen too.
He really was quite something. Face broad and intelligent, and vaguely familiar somehow now. Cheekbones high, jaw firm, and a mouth that was strong and manly yet ever so slightly pouty in a way that made her long to nibble his plump lower lip. Even as she hungered for him and his eyes told her he was hungering for her in return, his tongue flicked out and moistened those succulent lips. It was pointed and very pink, darting lasciviously.
Almost expiring with lust, Lois hauled in a deep breath, and began to smell Dream Lover as much as he could smell her, getting yet another surprise into the bargain.
Not him the smells of leather and sweat. Not for him the cool, blue smells of male cologne.
No, as he approached across the cabin, soft-footed on the wooden floor, he brought with him the sweet smell of flowers.
Violets, wild roses, delicate woodland blooms… and most piercingly and headily, the scent of lavender.
It was like swigging down a triple belt of some perfumed liqueur made by monks in the wilds of rural France.
Lois squirmed around against the mattress, the very quick of her body aching like the devil as if the dulcet odour was stimulating it directly. She throbbed and throbbed, her simmering flesh begging for contact. Just the tiniest little touch - that would do it. The stranger’s mouth twisted in a slow, knowing smile as he drew nearer. It seemed to light his every feature like a candle.
And still they hadn’t exchanged a single word.
While Lois watched like a starving beast eyeing up a prime rib, Dream Lover flung off his long dark coat and then knelt on the bed. Bracing herself for the bounce of substantially muscled body hitting the mattress, she got a shock that made her gasp. He was big – tall and broad and solid – but the sheet on which she lay barely seemed dented. It was the oddest phenomenon, and Lois knew she should be frightened… but in a dream, she supposed, weird stuff like this was normal.
That was, if it was a dream? Some of it was far too vivid to be imaginary.
Free of his coat, Dream Lover’s body was shown off to perfection. His arms gleamed in the firelight as if they were fashioned from polished wood and strength shone around him like an aura. The golden glitter that dusted his thick, dark hair was even more breathtaking in close proximity, and his close fitting black tee shirt embraced the ripped contours of his torso. Beneath the tough dark fabric of his jeans, his thighs were as sturdy as oak branches, and at his crotch there was a fine, chunky bulge.
Lois’s fingers itched to explore him, but her bonds were disturbingly real in an imaginary situation. She simply could not move, and lover boy’s velvety, tantalising lips curved at the sight of her struggles. His hand, so conveniently unfettered, reached out towards her body, hovering for several seconds over her breast, and then dropping to the full curve and cupping it insolently. Lois hissed through her teeth, when his long thumb settled against her nipple as if it belonged there. His skin was just as cool as she’d imagined it to be…
The hiss turned to an outright groan as he flicked and tickled her, her mystery man smiled, his passionate mouth widening in a smile that was impish and knowing. With slow calculation, he strummed her again and again, and the compulsion to thrash about, and rub the skin of her bare buttocks against the sheet beneath her grew ever stronger and stronger by the second. She tried to stay still, because for some bizarre reason it seemed important to show a little decorum, but it was hopeless. Wriggling like a strumpet, she knew she’d never looked sluttier in her life.
Why can’t I just ask you who you are?
She opened her mouth to speak, but Dream Lover put paid to all questions by tweaking the nipple quite hard now, rolling it between finger and thumb, plucking at it and pulling at it, making it stiffer and pinker than ever. He cocked his gilded head on one side as she bucked against the mattress, attempting to widen her thighs and entice him with her sticky, melting sex. She’d never behaved like this before, even in her wildest moments, and her own wantonness both appalled and excited her, goading her aroused body to even greater heights of shamelessness.
Please... please... she begged him silently, still unable to speak. Touch my cunt. Stroke me with your fingers… Fuck me! Please, please, fuck me now!
The golden-frosted head cocked again, and he grinned like the sun.
You heard that, didn’t you, you bastard? You read my mind!
Maybe mind-reading was standard operational procedure in dreams? Anything was possible. Watching her face, Dream Lover continued to play idly with her breast for a while, all the time watching her face with the intensity of a scientist.
I can’t take much more of this…
Lois watched his face for an acknowledgement, but Dream Lover just regarded her benignly and went on with his fondling.
But Lois didn’t feel benign. She wanted to kill him, or fuck him, or even both. Between her legs tension gathered and gathered and gathered and her head seemed to be floating it felt so light. Her brain was emptying of thought. She was about to come…
Just from having her breast touched? Surely not? But anything seemed achievable in this wonderful warm place.
But just when it seemed almost about to happen, Dream Lover withdrew his hand.
‘You bastard!’
So near, yet suddenly so far, Lois found her tongue at last, and Dream Lover’s brow puckered. What was he thinking? Planning some devilish new sexual torture for her, no doubt. He snagged his sinful lower lip with his Colgate white teeth, and his brilliant eyes sparkled with mischief.
Lois blinked. Surely not? It had suddenly dawned on her what was peculiar about those eyes…
They were two different colours. The right one was a sharp, electrical sky blue - and the left one was as warm and brown as Armagnac.
© Portia Da Costa and Virgin Books 2008
Available from Amazon.co.uk
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