Are y’all tired of the sex excerpts? Yes? Okay, instead I’ll post a commentary on proper house-painting technique.
Ha! Kidding. Here’s more naughtiness.
The following scene takes place after Kenzi’s bath in Excerpt Three. No, the girl hasn’t quite calmed down yet. After all, it’s been four hundred years since she last got herself some.
So what’s a randy girl to do? Well, have a look. Oh, and about Kenzi’s grooming technique in the excerpt? Remember that sith are nearly invulnerable to human weapons. That includes razors.
—————————————-
Copyright © 2014 Corey Harper
Corey Harper Books
She pulled the lever on the tub, and sat there a moment as the drain made sucking sounds while the water flowed out. Duncan had given her a strange look, she remembered, when she’d tried to get him to explain what had happened before. He’d put her off then, promising an answer later.
She went back over the earlier events. He had needed information from her, information she could not unearth in her mind to provide him, so she had agreed to his crazy suggestion of the Ordination knowledge transfer. She remembered—oh, how she remembered!—his warm mouth on her neck, that first painful, but then oh so sensual bite, and him drinking—
She began to heat again, her clit throbbing anew, as she recalled his large body next to her on the soft bed, leaning over her, capturing her…
Stop it, Kenzi! she told herself. She would never get any answers if she kept stopping to masturbate every time he popped into her head.
So what had happened? He bit her, he drank—she pushed away the memory of the sensation, was partially successful—he leaped back from her, she remembered now. Why? What had he seen?
Some of it was coming back. He said he’d seen… something, and had started telling her about it. She remembered being lulled by the sound of his voice, but the words themselves eluded her, like grasping at tendrils of fog… Oh, right. He had said something about a wall—
A shudder passed through her. And then another, and her head whirled like her thoughts had tumbled into a spinning blender and gotten chopped up. She stood up in the tub. What had she just been thinking about? No matter now—her bath was finished, and she wanted to try on some of her pretty new clothes.
Stepping from the tub onto the plush sea green cotton bath rug, she caught sight of herself in the beveled mirror over the glass vessel sink, and frowned. She could have sworn she had removed her armpit hair just a few days ago, yet there it was, in all its crimson glory. She glanced down, and sure enough, her pubes had grown bushy as well. Far more than she ever let them get; she couldn’t recall why she had allowed her body hair to grow.
Something nibbled at her, a kind of déjà vu feeling, but she tossed it off as just a silly thought. After all, her entire body was still warm and throbbing and distracted after that bath, even with the interruption from Duncan. She giggled; at least he’d let her finish. She wondered if she was going to keep feeling so wanton, and had had no idea she possessed such a lustful mind.
The pretty clothes would have to wait a few minutes, while she returned her body to the hairless state she preferred it to be in. She considered whether Duncan would prefer her furry or bald, decided if he really found her attractive, he would like it the way she liked it. Take that, Mr. Bossy Pants. Then “pants” made her think of how his muscular behind—his ass—looked in his tight black jeans, and she felt her face heat again.
She seriously was never going to get out of the bathroom if she didn’t focus, and Duncan would be right to come pounding on the door again if she took too much longer. She did her armpits first, her fingers a flashing blur, and she made quick work of the red strands. When she was satisfied she was once again smooth, she turned her attention to her pubic area.
Once again, she frowned at the forest there. That should have taken months to get to that length. She felt a twinge shoot down her spine, and that whirly–brain feeling again—maybe intense, mind–blowing orgasms had a weird effect on her?—and decided it didn’t matter.
It took her a little longer to groom her pubic area, but soon she had finished, and turned this way and that to look at herself in the mirror. The sensation of her nimble fingers plucking the hair and pulling on her outer lips had caused her inner ones to engorge, and become wet and slick, because of course she was thinking of Duncan the entire time. Now that she was cleanly shorn, she felt ready.
Ready for what, girl?
She thought about that while she cleaned up the sink area. Yes, Duncan had been very kind, considerate, and even affectionate, but it wasn’t like he had put any moves on her. Though she did remember how he had looked at her, back in the bedroom after she had quenched her thirst with the blood, when her ass cheek was hanging out.
The thought made her smile. Yesterday, if anyone had told her that she would be casually thinking words like ass, she would have covered her mouth in embarrassment and horror.
Now she stood there in Duncan’s fancy bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror, sliding her index and second fingers through her pussy lips, growing wetter by the second. If Duncan could make her this wet without even being in the room, how would she react when he was standing right in front of her?
Her legs got shaky, and she turned and leaned against the lovely green marble counter with the red and gold veins running through it. Her full round ass creased against the cold stone edge, and she lifted herself up onto the counter, putting one foot at each end of the countertop, the raised glass sink pressing into her side. She didn’t care.
She angled her pelvis upward, making little thrusting motions with her pussy, aching for—
Wow. She was aching for Duncan’s penis. Dumb, Kenzi. Guys didn’t call it that. They called it—
She let the thought hold as she stroked her ever–wetter folds. In her mind, Duncan was standing in front of her, giving her that mocking grin she didn’t think he even knew he made. He looked her up and down, at her nakedness, and his eyes devoured her. He made her feel that she was his, and that he could—and would—do whatever he fucking well pleased with her. To her.
He was clothed, she was naked. It made her feel so vulnerable to him, like he could see everything about her, while he remained a mystery clad in black jeans and skin–tight shirt. It was only because she trusted him that she could stand in front of him, but she did feel like running.
So she did, just to see what he would do.
He caught her in a flash, grabbing her in a bear grip, surrounding her with both his massive arms, his muscles rippling. She gasped as he lifted her from the floor, and threw her onto the bed that had conveniently appeared in her mind.
Now he just stood and looked down at her, smiling that knowing smile. She laid there on the bed, naked, arms and legs askew just as they had landed when he tossed her, not moving. She knew her legs were parted, and that he could see her pussy lips growing more crimson by the second. Moisture trickled from her and onto Duncan’s sheets.
Still grinning at her, knowing she couldn’t escape him—and knowing she knew that—he began to undress. She watched him pull the green polo shirt over his head, the V–shape of his latissimus dorsi muscles swelling as he tugged it free of his head. His forelock tumbled over his forehead.
She let her eyes track down his chest, with its fine dark hairs covering it like a soft armor, his bulging pectorals and hard abs making her catch her breath. The dark hairs gathered together just below his diaphragm, forming into a trail that disappeared beneath his waistband.
And below that, she saw the very male proof of his desire for her. Oh my! How did his jeans contain that? Wasn’t it painful for him?
“Ohhh!” she moaned, her fingers moving faster, now slipping in and out of her pussy. Her thumb found her clit, and began to circle it. The nerves fired through every inch of her body. Her nipples tightened even more, hardening to points, her large round areola pebbling. Her breasts became swollen and heavy against her ribs.
In her mind, Duncan smiled his cocky smile at her, and waited. She could take it no more, and raised up off the bed, reaching for his belt. As she touched the rich black leather, her nostrils flared at the primal scent of the hide. Of him.
She paused, her hand on the buckle. With her other hand, she traced the outline of him. It was so hard! Was she doing this to him?
Sitting on the bathroom counter, knowing in her mind that he wanted her more than his own life, she was so close!
And when, in her fantasy, she saw him begin to leak right through his jeans, the wet spot spreading, all because of her, she could take it no more, and ground the heel of her hand against her clit.
“Ahhggh!” Her cry was guttural, primitive, as she spilled over the edge. At the last moment, she remembered to be quieter than before, but as the waves erupted, she lifted her ass up off the counter, pressing up with her feet as every muscle in her body rippled and clenched, her head banging into the mirror behind. She gushed intensely, violently, her fluids drenching the stone countertop and the rug below.
She quivered with the aftershocks, which went on for what seemed like hours. Her entire body was electric, vibrating like a fallen harp. She tried to shift position, caught her hand in the wetness, and slipped off the counter onto her behind on the rug.
“Whoops!” As humiliating as that should have been, all she could do was giggle. She felt great! Why had it taken her so long to do this? How soon could she do it again?
And what went on during that “nap” that seemed to have kicked her sex drive into overdrive?
###
—————————————–
I hope you enjoyed my latest excerpt.
And enter my FINAL book giveaway raffle before my book releases on April 24th. Enter every day to increase your chances!
—————————————–
Loading InLinkz ...
Loading InLinkz ...
