I’m going to do something I RARELY do: post an excerpt from Sleepy Willow’s Loosed Soul (The Narcoleptic Vampire Series Vol. 3). For those of you who read this series, you know things are revealed as you read, so I’m always scared to spoil my own damn story. The other reason I don’t give away what’s within the pages, and probably the most important for this blog, is that I write stuff that’s potentially offensive.
I’m too desensitized to be offended by much, but that doesn’t mean I’m not concerned about what may be too much for more sensitive readers. Soooo, STOP READING NOW IF SEXUAL CONTENT AND PROFANITY OFFENDS YOU. The excerpt I selected involves both…because…well, because I like it.
You’ve been warned.
He put his hand on my cheek and turned my face toward him. “Look at me.” I did. He waited. “No, really. Look at me.” I did. I saw a white man with light stubble where a mustache and beard would be, as if the end to his porn career also meant the end to being clean shaven. Deep brown eyes. Brown hair hanging long enough to start curling at the ends and thick enough to cover his receding hair line. What a difference a few months made. A strong, manly jaw. Nice cheekbones. Nice, really nice lips. I licked mine. “That’s it. Take a real look at me.” He rubbed his thumb across my cheek slowly and studied my face the way I studied his.
Oh, fuck. I saw him. His sex appeal. The thing that had made him such an excellent lover on camera. It hadn’t had anything to do with his curse. The witch’s scribble had made him irresistible, but he would have been hot without it.
I wanted him right now, precisely what was not supposed to happen. I made a move to get up. “I gotta go.”
He held my jaw. “Un un. This is what you need.”
What, sexual healing? Intimacy? What exactly did I need?
I don’t know what he saw on my face, but he knew he’d spooked me to run. He rolled over until I was pinned underneath him. “Shhh. Shh. Shhh. Don’t be afraid.”
The beat for “Sex Therapy” by Robin Thicke kicked in on his stereo, and I thought I was going to scream. The only thing I could think of was getting out. Running. Getting away from him and his eyes and body and hands. Oh, God. He had lifted my hair from underneath my head and neck and piled it all at the top of my head. He’d wrapped it tightly in one hand and let his other one land in between my legs. I still had on the miniskirt I’d worn to Franco’s room months ago, and Conda had taken full advantage of the opening. It had easily ridden up my legs, and once he touched me, my legs had easily fallen open.
All rational thought left my mind. I couldn’t think of leaving or running or fighting or screaming. Unless he was going to make me come, then I was ready to scream. God, I wanted to scream. I wanted to cream right on his hand, then scream until I woke up everyone in the basement.
“Let it go. I want to see you come.”
I had to go. I am not a whore.
His eyes never left mine. I didn’t know what he was looking for in them, but it was the intimacy behind his gaze that had freaked me out to begin with. I hadn’t come in here for this. My brain was disconnecting from the pressure building where he rubbed. I could see myself writhing like a bitch in heat, and I didn’t like the look. I was thinking about running again and he knew it.
“Come for me.” His lips crushed mine. His tongue swept mine. His palm stopped rubbing the outside of my panties and one finger slid in. Then another. And another, until I wasn’t sure how many were stroking me on the inside. I rocked my hips with each stroke and dug my nails in his back. I couldn’t get enough of him. I was getting too much of him. Not enough. Too much. Definitely too much. “That’s it. Ride it.”
His eyes were still on mine like he wanted to experience my pleasure through me. His tongue was back in my mouth like he wanted to crawl in there and take back every drop of blood he’d given me. We were too close to each other’s face. His hand still held my hair tight, the other bringing me close to orgasm. He seemed everywhere. All over and in me at the same time…
Ladies and gentlemen, that’s THE END of the excerpt. I hope you enjoyed. If you want to know what Conda, short for Anaconda (hint hint), does to Willow after that, you’ll need to get the book.
To get familiar with the characters and their “quirks”, you’ll really need to start with Sleepy Willow’s Bonded Soul (Vol. 1):
Then you’ll need to read Sleepy Willow’s Heartless Soul (Vol. 2):
THEN you’ll be ready for the insanity in Vol. 3.