This is a little snippet from my current work-in-progress. It’s called Suck and Blow and it’s part of a four-book series RC and I are doing together. At this point in time I can’t tell you who it will be released with (have to keep it a secret for contract reasons) but you should see it (and Rhian’s) sometime late in the year.
Remember the parties you went to when you were a teenager? The complete abandonment of inhibitions as you played games like Truth or Dare? Spin the Bottle? Suck and Blow? Strip Twister? Remember how free you felt? How hard you laughed and how you wished you never had to grow up, like really grow up?
Now, imagine if you got to experience that kind of party again? Just one night, forgetting you were a responsible adult complete with all the baggage a responsible adult carries with them every day. Imagine, for one night, at one amazing party, you got to play those games again.
Party Games, a four book series from Rhian Cahill and Lexxie Couper, submerges the reader in the interconnected stories of nine adults and the party that sees their lives change forever.
Super-secret Snippet (remember, this is untouched by an editor’s hand so there’s bound to be mistakes aplenty *grin*)
He shoved his hand under her shirt and captured her breast, pushing the hemline up with his forearm before claiming her nipple through her bra with his mouth.
“Oh, fuck, yes!”
He sucked hard, holding her breast with one hand and her wrists with the other. Her nipple stiffened more so under his tongue, becoming rock-hard and distended. He drew it deeper into his mouth, pulsing his suction as he rolled his tongue over and over its form.
Frankie’s mewling begs and wordless moans grew louder. She pushed her hips forward again, seeking his. He chuckled around her nipple, enjoying the way she tried to pull him closer to her heat with her leg.
But he was in charge of her pleasure. Moving his mouth from her breast, he snagged his fingers under the edge of her bra and yanked it aside, watching in rapt hunger as her creamy flesh was revealed to him.
“You have the hottest breasts I’ve ever seen, Frankie,” he uttered, dragging his thumb over her moist nipple. A deep thrill shot through him at the feel of his saliva on her skin. It was a primitive, base response of possession and it made his erection jerk in his jeans.
“Seen a few, have you?” Her question was a panted rasp.
He chuckled, raising his gaze from her breast to her face. Her cheeks were flushed with pink heat, her eyes half-shuttered, her lips parted. It was the face of absolute pleasure. “Enough to know yours are sublime.” He nipped at her nipple with his lips, and she hitched in a breath, her hips thrusting toward him in a move he knew was beyond her control. “Perfect.”
She laughed, her eyes closing as she tried to tug him to her heat again. “Damn, you always did know the right thing to say, Alley Cat.”
He shook his head, scraping his thumb over her nipple again. “Not true,” he murmured, watching the pulse in her neck beat wildly beneath her skin, “if I did, I would have told you ten years ago I wanted you so fucking much it hurt.”
His confession made her whimper, her eyebrows pulling into a frown he could have sworn was one of grief.
“Make me come, Alec,” she whispered, “please, make me come.”
He brushed his lips over hers, releasing his grip on her wrists as he did so. “Gladly.”
His hands found her waistline and he shoved her leather pants down her hips, pushing them as far they would go before her boots stopped them. It was enough to expose her pussy, the tattooed gun teasing him from behind her lace g-string. Lowering to his knees, he placed his hands on her inner thighs, stroking a thumb over her folds, rolling it over her clit before dipping his tongue between her legs.
She shoved her pussy to his mouth, her hands finding his hair and gripping fast. He stoked his tongue over her folds, the lace of her g-string an erotic friction he both loved and despised. That she wore lace stirred something purely male and chauvinistic inside him; that the lace prevented him touching her completely pissed him off.
With a grunt, he hooked a finger under the thin, skimpy crotch and pulled it aside.
Frankie’s exclamation danced over his senses, as did the subtle musk of her juices filling his breath. He rubbed his thumb over her folds, her cream slicking his flesh immediately. She was so wet for him. Sodden with pleasure. Lowering his head, he lapped at her pussy lips, delving between her labia with an insistent stroke before finding her clit. He sucked on its tiny form, Frankie’s hip driving forward with a brutal buck.
“Shit, Alec,” she gasped, her fists balling tighter in his hair, “if you do that again, I’m going to—”
He did it again. And again.
“Fuck,” Frankie cried, the word a long drawn-out groan. “I’m going to come. Oh, God, I’m going to—”
He thrust his tongue into her slit, delving it deep, swirling at around before dragging it over her clit once more.
Frankie’s hip convulsed, her pussy weeping juices as her nails dug into his scalp. “Oh, God, Alec. I’m…I’m…”
He closed his lips and teeth around her clit. And bit. Gently.
“Fuck!” Frankie’s orgasm erupted from her, sweet cream coating his tongue, his lips, his chin. She ground into his face, bucking over and over again, her cries becoming wordless sounds that made Alec’s balls rise up and his cock flood with hot, impatient need.
And before Frankie could recover from the climax he’d wrought on her body, he stood and threw her over his shoulder, grapping her naked, glorious arse and holding her tight, the sounds of her breathless laughter trailing them as he strode down the hall to his bedroom.
There you go. What did you all think of that? Be honest. I can take it