#SampleSaturday ADULT Excerpt from Sleepy Willow’s Loosed Soul (The Narcoleptic Vampire Series).

[Sample Saturday] Sleepy Willow’s Loosed Soul (The Narcoleptic Vampire Series Vol. 3) by Dicey Grenor. **ADULT EXCERPT**

DO NOT READ IF PROFANITY AND SCENES OF A SEXUAL NATURE OFFEND YOU!

From this angle, his thighs were huge. Hell, everything on him was ginormous. His feet, his calves, his balls. Rippling chocolate muscles covered every inch of his body, and my reverse cowgirl position made his thick dick stroke my guts in a nearly uncomfortable way…that got progressively worse. Screaming Ouch! right now would not be sexy, but it was forming in the back of my throat, no matter how superhuman I was supposed to be.
Since my first time with Ivan, I hadn’t experienced pain from merely intercourse and didn’t understand why I felt it now. I was a G, dammit. I could ride a mean dick, but boy was he hitting it hard. And the line between pleasure and pain was distinct for me. One that couldn’t be ignored. An adjustment needed to be made to accommodate Punch’s length and strength. Sure, I could take the pain, but I preferred unadulterated pleasure. The kind that had me screaming in ecstasy, not agony. With that in mind, I let go of my tight grip on his legs where I’d been digging my nails in, drawing blood, and leaned back towards his massive chest and washboard abs.

Ahhh. Much better.

More than one way to fuck a giant.

My long, coarse black hair cushioned my head while the mega heat from his body immediately engulfed my limbs. Warming me inside and out, like I’d been thrown into a volcano. I became lost to that heat, especially the molten one spreading from the vise grip I still held around the endowment that made him all male.
“Mmmm. Damn, that’s good.” Punch’s deep, rattling moan vibrated throughout my entire body as he massaged my breasts with both hands, kneading them like a chef preparing steaks for grilling. He continued pumping his hips upwards, burying himself in me. Deeply. Rhythmically. Nibbling my earlobe. Growling with each stroke. Lightly flickering his thumbs over my nipples to make sure I remained tender and juicy.

My back arched as I reached above my head to grasp handfuls of his long dreadlocks and pulled roughly, urging him on. Begging him, without words, to give me all the power in his strong, muscular body. To hold nothing back. Surprisingly, I could take it from this angle and wanted more. Needed more. He took the hint and ran with it. Or at least his hands did, sliding leisurely from my breasts to my stomach to my thighs. His knees raised, spreading mine wide to give his big hands access. To probe me on the outside while he prodded my insides.

Ow! What was that?

All this probing and prodding almost reminded me of something horrific, something jarring. Frightening knowledge danced just outside my mental grasp. If I reached for it, I’d capture its essence and know the truth. But no. I wouldn’t let my brain focus on anything other than this moment with him. When one of his thick fingers found my pulsating clit and rubbed tentatively at first, then more firmly, I couldn’t think about anything else if I tried.

Oh, yeeesss. Just like that. I was speechless again, as I’d been known to get sometimes when I was close to climaxing. Our supernatural bond gave me a telepathic means to praise him anyway. To let him know how badly I wanted it, and that he was giving it to me right—in case my moans and groans and panting and writhing didn’t clue him in well enough.

The same finger went to his lips for a wet, noisy suck, before resuming its delicious assault on the part of me that craved his attention most.

“Damn, that’s good,” I whispered. For shooting my pleasure level up ten notches, he more than deserved to hear that one aloud.
Oh, yeah. He liked auditory encouragement. The pace and depth of his thrusts increased. The volume of his baritone moans rose too, until he no longer sounded human but feral like his inner wolf. The sensation, the intensity, our combined energies…all of it made us urgent to reach the end together. Desperate to reach the ultimate sexual fulfillment.

Oh, yes. Faster. Harder. More. Please.

Amazing that he could still be inside me so deeply from this angle, but boy could he ever. Filling me up again and again.
No one could tell me size didn’t matter.

My eyes rolled and closed, but not before I saw Remi enter my bedroom and shut the door. He didn’t bother talking or waiting for an invitation. No lollygagging whatsoever. He began stripping, exposing lean muscles and hairy, olive skin. Skin that appeared close to my caramel complexion but a stark contrast to Punch. The contrast of Remi’s features was beyond complementary, forming the perfect blend like peanut butter and jelly or vanilla ice-cream and apple pie. Double yum. Food analogies worked well since I was spread before him like an all-you-can-eat buffet with Punch working me like a famished construction worker using a jackhammer to devour his meal. A big, hot jackhammer, that is.

Remi didn’t say anything because words weren’t necessary. He would only benefit from action. Swift action. He was all about removing the garments that prevented him from being as naked as we were. And he was in a hurry to do it. In a hurry to find pleasure and release inside me. Being familiar with my body, he recognized the signs of an impending orgasm and didn’t want to miss my walls clenching around him, extracting every drop of his semen.

I picked all that up from his mental trajectories…because we were bonded like that. Permanently. The bond I’d once dreaded had become an instrument of foreplay.

Stealing a peek through squinty eyes, I moaned at the sight of Remi disrobing. His physical aura manifested the same vibes as his thoughts. He was erect, his body straining to get at me in the same manner a paperclip would be drawn to a magnet, only hornier. Hotter.

I licked my lips through a haze of lust, struck immediately by how beautiful and delicious he looked. Statuesque and edible…which made perfect sense to me since I was a vampire. My hungry, sexual nature justified why I couldn’t wait for him to lay the full weight of his sinuous body on me while I sunk throbbing fangs into his neck and rocked my hips on Punch. Multitasking at its finest. Being able to have them simultaneously would be worth prolonging the finale. I had two orifices that could be filled, after all, especially now that neither served to excrete waste from my animated body.

I’d seen enough of Conda’s pornos to know the anus could be a delightful erogenous zone. What better time than the present to give it a try? Neither my inexperience with anal sex nor Punch’s daunting size would preclude me from shifting him to the rear and leaving my cookie wide open for Remi to plunge in. Trying new things came with being a G.

That’s right, sexy. Come to me. Come in me—

Ow!

That gnawing pain still lingered in my subconscious. I didn’t understand how or why or when it had come back. But whatever. Double penetration with Punch and Remi would be worth some pain. Or maybe I should turn over, switch Remi to the rear. Yeah…

Ignoring the nagging feeling that something was askew, I writhed wantonly at the sight of Remi approaching. Seeing him, clothed or nude, always had that effect on me. He. Was. Gorgeous. From the crown of his long black, wavy hair to the mesmerizing metallic blue of his eyes, he belonged to me, and I couldn’t wait to claim him again.

But the nag wouldn’t recede. In fact, it worsened. The wonderful penetration of Punch’s dick now felt like he’d stabbed me with a sharp knife and pulled my cookie out. Conscious thought slowly pulled out towards the surface as well.

Thinking of Remi’s hair had triggered an alarm in the back of my mind, because his hair was oddly slicked back from his forehead with holding gel. And he hadn’t removed a t-shirt with leather wristbands and jeans. He’d been wearing a button-down, long-sleeved dress shirt and slacks instead. Matter of fact, his eyes were downcast with the guardedness of a shy man. Definitely odd for him. Remi usually stared like a shocked corpse, which was fitting really, since he loved corpses so much.

But that was the point, wasn’t it? This wasn’t Remi at all. I’d been mistaken. Only Aaron behaved in that manner, and dressed like that, and wore his hair that way, and… No. Wait. There was no way Aaron would have an erection already. His erectile dysfunction, brought on by the same traumatic childhood event that gave him a personality disorder, didn’t allow it. Honestly, it was difficult to discern which personality occupied that glorious body sometimes, but there were usually telltale signs…that were blown to hell at the moment.

Come to think of it, Punch wasn’t my lover. That should have been the first sign that something was off here; that I was either in an alternate universe, having another crazy dream, or hallucinating. There was no way I’d be riding Punch without his fire-breathing redheaded bitch having something to say about it. And neither Remi nor Aaron would be cool about approaching the bed with that hungry look on their face, that said they loved watching me ride Punch and couldn’t wait to join us. Remi would be too jealous, Aaron too self-conscious.

Apparently, my body had been overwhelmed, stressed to the max, and my mind had escaped to a safe dream in order to cope. My built-in, automatic coping mechanism. At least it had been a good dream. Arguably. With my sleep disorder, I never knew when sleep was on the horizon, or when my own troubled past would manifest itself in a nightmare. Narcolepsy notwithstanding, somehow I knew this nap had been induced by something other than my body’s inability to regulate its sleep cycle. Something more frightening, more painful, more mercilessly malicious was going on.

Fearful of what I’d find upon returning to reality, my eyes flew open. I tried to sit upright and couldn’t. Something had me bound tightly, and there was only one thing that could be—silver.

What a buzz kill.

Sleepy Willow’s Loosed Soul (The Narcoleptic Vampire Series Vol. 3)

Sexy Excerpt~Sleepy Willow’s Loosed Soul (The Narcoleptic Vampire Series Vol. 3)

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.

Maybe.