Length: Short Story
Word Count: 00,000
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Available formats: : PDF, RTF, Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc)
© Cover Art by ARTIST, DATE
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Carly spread her auburn hair over the pillow and shivered in anticipation, the smooth satin sheets cool against her hot, nude body. It was the blindfold. “Leave it in place,” they’d said when she’d “won” the use of the bedroom. Enjoy the erotic, carnal pleasure of raw sex without ever knowing who her partner was. Any moment now, the door knob would turn and one of the hired male strippers—bare-chested men with rope abs right off the cover of a bodice-ripper—would draw the winning straw, break from the party in the next room and come to her.
Come. Dear God, what if he just ground his cock into her without foreplay? This was the 80’s… Bang parties were what was happening. Would she be wet enough to take him? Carly slid her hand down between her thighs and inserted a finger. Moist, but not slick. Frantically, she stroked her clitoris, pressing the little nub hard. She would be mortified if one of those hot hunks found out how inexperienced she really was. One lover was all she’d had. Damn, why had she let her friends talk her into this?
She knew why. Her sorority sister, Jillian,—golden-haired, silver-tongued—loved taking risks, living on the edge. When she’d gotten the invitation to this party, Carly had agreed to come along to keep an eye on her and had lugged along her friend, Charles, whom she’d known since junior high. Steady, reliable Charles would make sure things didn’t get out of hand. Carly never suspected, as they entered a room with the Bee Gees blaring from a Saturday Night Fever soundtrack, that she would be the fortieth person to walk through the door and hence, a “winner”. Charles had tried to get her to pass on this “invitation”, but she’d stuck her chin out stubbornly. It was time she got over the hurt of being dumped. A sexy, no-name man giving her a mind-blowing orgasm was just what she needed. To hell with emotions. Mr. Stud would be just fine.
The door squeaked open and she caught her breath. This was it then.
Hearing amplified, she listened to the rustle of clothing being removed and then felt the mattress sink as the guy lowered himself beside her. He checked to make sure the blindfold was securely in place.
“Scared?” he whispered.
“N…no,” she answered, although her mind was screaming otherwise.
“Then relax, Chère” he said as his fingers grazed her cheek and slid down her neck and across her collarbone. “I promise you only pleasure.”
She gasped as he turned the sheet down and cool air swept over her bare breasts. Her nipples hardened at the thought of being exposed to a man she didn’t know. He made a sound, deep in his throat, and then his hands were cupping her breasts, kneading them softly, thumbs flicking over the budded tips lightly, just enough to taunt and tease.
His breath warmed her ear as he tongued her earlobe, his hands massaging her breasts more firmly, making them heavy and aching to be sucked. Carly moaned.
He slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue gliding over her parted lips and probing inside, demanding entrance, tasting her, swirling his tongue around hers. Carly mewled and he deepened the kiss. “Bon, n’est-ce pas?” he murmured as he took a breath and then ravaged her mouth again.
If all Frenchmen kiss like this, I’m moving to France. She was having trouble thinking straight and she wasn’t sure that it was from lack of air as he claimed her mouth in ways her other lover—amateur!—never had.
He nibbled his way down her neck, pausing at the pounding pulse in her throat. He pinched her nipples just enough to cause a slight ripple of pain and pleasure to shoot through her body to her groin and then she felt his teeth, nipping at her throat.
Adrenaline shot through her. “No vampire stuff!”
The nipping stopped, replaced with a broad sweep of warm tongue. “Non, Chère.” The soft, low voice sounded wounded. “Only pleasure, oui?”
“Oui,” Carly whispered weakly, relieved. And then, “Oh!”
His mouth claimed a breast as he suckled, drawing deeply, the satisfying pulling easing the throbbing there but creating a pulsation between her legs.
As if on cue, he trailed kisses down her stomach. Shifting positions, he spread her legs and lapped at the juices flowing there. Carly arched off the mattress as his velvet tongue licked her nub in slow, lazy strokes, but warm, steady hands pressed her back down to the mattress.
“Not so fast, Chère. Allow me to pleasure you more fully.”
MORE? And then she felt the length of his granite-hard erection nudge against her belly before he lifted her legs over his shoulders and the silky head of his cock probed her entrance. She felt herself being stretched wide to accommodate his thickness as he pushed in, an inch at a time, to the hilt. He began thrusting slowly and rhythmically, torturing her in her frenzied need for release. Carly writhed, hips undulating as his movements became grinding plunges that butted her womb as he rammed himself home. She felt the crescendo building, her contraction gripping his cock and then she shattered, a thousand stars splattering over a black velvet sky.
It had been a good ten minutes since her nameless lover had left. If she only knew his name…but rules were rules. Carly took a deep breath, hoping her flushed face didn’t give her away, and stepped back into the room to the tune of How Deep is Your Love. How appropriate. If I can’t have you…
“Ready to leave?” Jillian asked. She didn’t look pleased.
“I’ll get your coat,” Charles said when Carly nodded.
As he slipped it on, he whispered, “Bon, n’est-ce pas?”
Carly stared into his dark eyes. Never would she have guessed…
He grinned wickedly.
Who knew that Charles spoke French?