That’s right! British Bad Boys – Sexy Romance Ebook for FREE!
*IMPORTANT* THE LINKS ARE NOW FIXED! HUGE APOLOGIES!
Now I want you to do something for me – go on and CLICK THIS LINK and bagsy your FREE copy of British Bad Boys – a collection of saucy romance novellas from me and some of my erotica buddies.
Go on, you know we all secretly love the anti-hero – the bad boy – if only for a little while in our fantasies (or maybe you prefer a longer escapade…)
Wait, you’re still here? No WAY 😀 😀
Need more convincing?
Here’s a wee sexy snippet from my story of a sexy gruff axe wielding Highlander…
Archie was at once by her side helping her to her feet, his manly huge presence making Harriet tremble. But she was angry. She had to remember that. This man seemed capable of ridiculing her at any moment, even after being sweet.
“I’m fine. Leave me,” she said, leaning in slightly to inhale his scent. Earthy musk mixed with soap, as if he’d tried to wash off the hard work of the day but it permeated everything about him. She thought about leaning into his chest and sinking her lips into his pectoral muscles, sucking and nibbling at his nipples.
“Woah, watch it there, hen, a wee wobble in you. Come on, I’ll help you up to yer room.”
Goodbumps prickled down Harriet’s spine at the thought of being carried again by the mighty Archie Macdonald. She let her knees soften, bracing for his scoop and lift. But it didn’t come. Archie simply took her crutches in one hand and put the other round her shoulders and cupped her armpit to help take her weight. Damn it. She squirmed a little, knowing she was getting damp there too. This man was going to turn her in to a big wet mess if he kept this close to her. She wondered if he could feel this chemistry too. Or maybe he had this effect on all women as he’d intonated earlier in the forest.
Harriet felt terrible for doing it but she deliberately made her limp worse as they mounted the frayed carpeted stairs and let Archie take her weight a little more than was proper. She’d never in her life played the role of damsel in distress but there was something about this man that made her actually want to swoon. Eventually, with a mixture of hop-limping and hoisting on Archie’s part, they arrived at her door and nervous energy flamed through Harriet’s cells. Should she invite him in for a fuck? Her body was desperate for him. Her knickers were soaked with desire and all she wanted was to be thrown down roughly and fucked hard. She wanted carpet burns on her shoulder blades and cheeks from being flipped over from one position to the other and drilled from behind.
Oh god, she was a wreck. Was it the whisky? Or was it the utter animal lust that billowed off this man in waves.
“Are ye having a bit of trouble there, hen,” his voice tickled at her nape as she tried to engage the jangling key in the lock. Her fingers were clumsy and wouldn’t work.
“Will I give it a go? I’ve got a knack of getting things to slide into awkward wee holes.”
Oh for the love of fuck. Harriet rammed the key home and twisted it, frantically opening the door with a shove and reaching behind to grab at Archie’s shirt.
They stumbled and tripped into the room, Harriet falling back onto the edge of the bed.
Harriet gripped his t-shirt and pulled him lower for a kiss. He tasted of everything she thought he would, earthy, musky and sensual with whisky overtones to match her own.
Their tongues mingled for a brief moment then he broke free, glancing down at her chest where she knew he’d see her nipples straining against the fabric of her top. Harriet arched her back and leaned back onto her elbows.
He set his teeth together and let out a growl of desire, roughly shoving his hand up her top to her breast, kneading it free of her bra and running his thumb over her nipple.
Sparks of pleasure surged and shot straight to her pussy and their mouths met again. Lips and tongues colliding with pure feral want. She heard the thud of her crutches falling to the floor and the bed dipped where Archie knelt his full weight onto it, simultaneously pushing her back by the breast and climbing on top of her. It was the horniest fucking thing that had ever happened to her and Harriet was throbbing with desire.
“Is this what you’re wanting, is it? To be fucked by a real man.”
Harriet whimpered at the shot of arousal his voice dragged from her aching cunt.
“Is it?” He nuzzled into her neck under her ear, letting his wet lips leave trails of cooling kisses as his voice turned even darker. “Aye, those weak suited bankers dinnae know how to treat women like you…”
Harriet faltered. Women like her? What did he mean by that? She bristled for a split second but melted again as his tongue twisted up behind her ear into her hairline.
“You want to feel like there’s nothing you could do if I decided to fuck you.”
Harriet shifted her pelvis and opened her legs up allowing him to slot in between her thighs.
“Aye, see, there ye are, you want me to hold you down while you beg for mercy, beg me to stop the pleasure that’s suddenly too much to take. See, I do know you. You want me to force you up against a wall and slide three thick fingers on up into your cunt, all sodden and gaping for a real man to fill. Is that right, lassie?”
And even though his words made her uncomfortable, she nodded because it was what she wanted. She wanted more than three fingers inside her. She wanted his cock too.
My god, he was a lust machine.
His hand left her breast and went to her hip, making her wriggle and he rubbed the sensitive bone there then to the dip of her belly and mound.
She tipped her pelvis up to catch his hand and he shifted to get access and push his hand in between her legs. She loved the way his shoulder dipped and the muscles in his arms twitched with the effort. The sinews and tendons working together, honed and beautiful beneath his perfect skin.
Harriet gasped as Archie cupped her full mound in his palm—still in her knickers and tracky-bums, he squeezed and massaged, large fingers probing at her entrance, forcing the sodden material into her. It was filthy rude and he locked his gaze with hers and pushed again, as if trying to breach her hole with the fabric clad hand. He rocked back and forth for a while, staring.
Harriet’s arousal grew and she began to feel like she was riding him. Her pleasure was mounting and her pussy started to twitch in that tell-tale way.
“Stop,” she manged to say, grabbing at his wrist, trying to halt the motion. “Stop, I’ll come,” was all she could manage before almost tipping over the edge into orgasm. He stopped moving and held her fast but put his other hand over her mouth, causing her heart to race as he pressed gently.
“That, hen, is the point, is it no?” he said and squeezed face as he began frigging her cunt again through the fabric, pushing harder and harder on up to her soaking depths. “Aye, there ye are, that’s what you want, ye uptight wee London lass, isn’t it.”
Being pinned to the bed by her mouth while she was hand fucked was not something Harriet had ever experienced. Breathing hard through her nose made her think she might start to panic, but as she spiralled off, cunt spasming, into the beginning of an intense orgasm, she decided, she loved it. As she toppled into her climax, Archie released her face and she floated, tripped and tumbled again and again into a wet trembling mess.
“There ye go,” Archie said as he retreated off the bed and extracted his hand from between her thighs.
Harriet felt bereft, what about him? Didn’t he want some attention?
She started to protest at him leaving but he put his finger to his lips. “Sh… plenty of time for me, hen. I’ll be back for mine.” Harriet flopped onto the bed, legs open, a sight for him to take in before he left. She closed her eyes, not wanting to watch him leave, or let him see the need for him in her eyes. She knew now she was addicted to this man. The door didn’t creak shut as quickly as she thought and she was just about to look to see what was going on when his looming presence appeared by her ear.
“Next time hen, I’m going to make you squirt.”
His breath on her ear was still cooling as he strode across the room and out the door, calling over his shoulder, “Mind and rest that sair ankle.” The door swung shut…
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Lots of love
Tabitha x x