Saturday Sexcerpt – Cry Me a River by Livia Quinn

Please welcome back Livia Quinn.  Livia, do you have a sexy excerpt you’d like to share with us?

I’d love to. This is the first love scene between my Tempestaerie, Tempe Pomeroy, and her human sheriff boyfriend, Jack Lang, from Cry Me a River.



Looks like faking it will be out of the question…

The term “fly apart in my arms” took on a whole new meaning. I’d lied to Tempe. My best guess had been memories of thousands of jet flights and the excitement of revisiting them, but this was more, it was primal; it was unearthly; it was tied to the storm woman I was buried inside. I didn’t want our lovemaking to end. I’d felt like this when I flew F-18s, suspected it was like doing crack—the rush, the heightened response, the ecstasy.

No, this was more than primal, more than leaving the bounds of the earth. Images of roiling clouds, racing stars and eyes with meteor showers in them preceded a loud crack. I felt the lightning bolt between my thighs, heard thunder in my groin, and heat exploded along my shaft as I claimed this woman for my own.

She screamed, “Ah Jaluu,” and I knew in my heart, in that part of me that had longed for someone like her who could be the one, that her soul called to mine. I thought I’d been ready for this, but I’d been as much a virgin as I had as a fifteen-year-old. Nothing could’ve prepared me for this—for her.

Her hands dug into my shoulders as she joined the stars or storms or wherever she went. Her skin sparkled like the iridescent light filtering in through the skylights. A distinctive, translucent pink cast was tinting her hair an even deeper red, her flesh hot to the touch. I trailed my fingers down over her breasts, cupping them, rising enough to nip at the hot, turgid tips, when my gaze caught on the scraps of material at her hips.

The edges of the cami she’d worn were charred, the panties as well. Only enough lilac remained that I could identify them. I looked at the mattress beneath us. There was a ring of fire, and scorched black what-used-to-be sheets in the outline of our bodies, like a controlled burn at the edge of a wildfire.

A wildfire begun by a lightning strike. It had been real, not just my imagination. And I wasn’t even singed.

“Jesus, sweetheart, you give new meaning to the word, ‘hot’. You set the sheets on fire.”

I pointed to the air, flickering like indoor heat lightning but gradually fading. Then down at the bed. “Look’s like faking it will be out of the question for you, honey.”

Join me next Thursday when my fellow Resplendence Author Cammie Eicher joins us. ~Tina


Saturday SExcerpt – The Princes Knighted by Robin Danner

Please enjoy this Excerpt from The Princes Knighted, available now at

She opened the door and stepped inside. “Hugh?”

There was no candle to light her way as she stepped farther into the room. A shaft of moonlight spilled through the window and fell across a figure lounging in the shadows.

“What are you doing here, Sara?” Hugh slurred the words.

She hurried to his side and reached for the bottle clutched in his hand. “Hugh, give it to me.”

“If you came to stop me from drowning my sorrows, you are too late.”

Sara ignored him and succeeded in wrestling the bottle from his grip. She set it aside and turned back to Hugh with a sigh. “I wanted to make sure you had not left.”

“I thought about it.” A harsh laugh escaped him. “Lord knows there is no reason for me to remain here where everyone I care about has lied to me for three years.”

Sara lifted her hand to cradle his cheek. “I am here, Hugh, and I have not lied to you.”

Hugh’s eyes glinted as he leaned forward, and moonlight fell across his face. “I have to leave, Sara. You are probably the main reason I should.”

“Why?” She ran her fingertips across his cheek and down the strong line of his jaw.

He growled low in his throat, and his hand came up to cover hers. “Why did you come here, Sara?”

“I told you, to make sure you had not left.”

His hand wrenched hers away from his face. “You should go.”

“No, I won’t. I have something I need to say first.”

“Then say it.”

Sara’s gaze roamed his face, the dark eyes hiding the pain he didn’t want to share with anyone, and the stubborn jaw that refused to admit he needed her.

“I love you.”

Hugh closed his eyes and softly cursed. “Sara…”

She covered his lips with the fingers of her free hand. “No, listen to me. I needed you to know before you leave.”

He turned his head and freed his mouth enough to speak. “I do know, Sara.”

“And?” she prompted.

Hugh groaned. “What do you want me to say, Sara? That I love you too? I can’t do that. I can’t be what you need me to be.”

“All I want is you, Hugh. I am not asking you to change.”

“No, but I would have to.” Hugh lifted the hand he still held to his lips and brushed a fleeting kiss across her knuckles. “Marry the duke. He can give you what I can’t.”

Sara wanted to cry in frustration. “I don’t want him. I want you.”

Without stopping to think, Sara leaned forward and pressed her lips to Hugh’s. He pushed her away, and a cry ripped from her throat. “Stop fighting me, Hugh.”

He surged to his feet, and she scrambled backward to keep from being knocked over. He wrapped his left arm around her waist and pulled her back to him. “I’ve tried, Sara. I don’t want to fight.”

Her breasts heaved against his chest as she dragged in a deep breath. She ran a hand up his chest and curved it around his neck. “Kiss me, Hugh.”

“Sara,” Hugh breathed. His struggle for restraint was visible on his face.

She lifted her face and stood on her tiptoes to bring her lips within inches of his. “Kiss me.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.”

Her eyes remained open and focused on his. “Yes, I do.”

“God help you if you don’t,” Hugh said in a harsh whisper as his lips swooped down and covered hers.

You can find all Robin Danner’s books here:

Saturday Sexcerpt – Love & History by Cheryl Dragon

Love & History
Masters Wanted Book 1
M/F Light BDSM Erotic RomanceBlurb:

Where are all the bedroom Doms? Sick of men pushing her limits, Bridget Sanger brings up the issue on her secret blog. Bridget is ready to give up on kinky love and focus on her career. The blog is supposed to be her last rant, but it takes off. A meddling coworker tracks the page to her and knows the perfect Dom for Bridget.

Stuffy-outside-hot-inside History professor, Scott Kasten finds Bridget an intriguing challenge. History has taught him love never lasts, but their kink could be forever. She’s never thought of Scott like that, but it turns her on all the more to see his sexual side. He’s a man of his word, and she trusts him with her body. The sex is amazingly intense, but she wants a real relationship, and she won’t settle!

Caution:  Light  BDSM Play ahead.  A Sexy Excerpt from Love & History…

available at Resplendence Publishing

available at Resplendence Publishing

She unbuttoned her skirt and slid it down to the floor. Stepping out of her pumps, she regretted wearing boring cotton cream and paisley panties. They did match her bra but were bikini cut, if it helped. “I have lace and satin at home.”

“I have nothing against cotton.” He slid his hand from the top of her thigh-high nylons up to her hip and momentarily slipped a finger under the material.

Carefully folding the skirt, she fought the seductive fog he was putting off. She worked free her tiny blouse buttons then slipped it off and set it atop the skirt.

“All of it, Sir?”

He stood and nodded.

Letting the panties fall, she sat on the edge of the chair to roll off the stockings.

“Not those. They can stay,” he said.

Smiling slightly, she kept her eyes down and put the stocking back in place before unhooking her bra. She stood up and waited for more instruction.

“Move over here away from the table.” He pointed to a spot on an area rug in front of his coffee table.

She admired his apartment from what her gaze allowed. It was very manly with dark leather couches and wooden tables. It felt very much like him. Standing on the indicated spot, she waited. Inside her a fire raged for relief, but he’d tease her first. Since he’d walked into her office that morning, she’d been wet and restless for play. Now, she was naked for him.

He was so calm and deliberate that she wanted to rip off his clothes and give in that instant. What a punishment she’d get! But it was their first time, and she wanted to be good. He had to come back for more. Of all the outcomes from that blog, she’d never imagined this!

“Why are you grinning?” He pinched her ass.

“I was thinking that this is the last thing I dreamed of when I wrote that blog last night.” Lying was pointless. He could have her if he wanted.

“I never expected this either.” He caressed her ass cheeks then slapped one of them.

The fire grew, and her skin tingled. “Thank you, Sir.”

“You like it?” he asked in her ear.

“I do. Please, tell me what to do. Let me service you.” She ran her hand along the front of his dress pants.

The view of him, sleeves rolled up as if ready for work, so intent on her made her feel the complete opposite from last night. He wanted her. His cock pulsed under her touch before he pushed her hand away. This was special. When he smacked her ass twice on each cheek, harder than before, she knew she was where she belonged. Moaning softly, she closed her eyes as the wetness in her pussy grew.

“Take that clip out of your hair,” he said.

She obeyed quickly. He took it from her then played with it along her sensitive breasts.

“Please,” she said.

“What?” he asked. “You don’t like it?”

“No, I love it. Nipple clamps, clothes pins, I love it.” She could nearly get off on rough breast play, but he’d learn that.

“Then please what?” he asked, standing dead in front of her and very close.

The scent of him was like books with a hint of musk. “Please, Sir, let me see you.”

“Ah. Fair is fair.” He stepped back. “But I don’t think this game is fair.”

“At least, your shirt, please. I promise I won’t touch unless you allow it.” She fought the urge to tear his shirt open and lick his chest.

“What do you want right now?” he asked.

“To rip your clothes and suck your cock, Sir.” The words flew without shame. There was a bit of relief behind them. The anticipation of what would come next charged her.

“You may unbutton my shirt,” he said.

Her hands flew to his chest and carefully worked the buttons loose. When she spread the fabric, she nearly fell to her knees. All the hard muscle and teasing layer of chest hair she’d imagined were true. His broad shoulders and strong arms were so sexy, and she couldn’t stop herself. She kissed the center of his chest and licked to taste his skin.

“You’re a bad girl,” he said.

“I’ve been deprived of the right way, the right release, for so long. I can take the punishment for my crimes, Sir.” She knelt, letting her tongue drag down his hard abs and over his belt. She kissed his erection through the dress pants and inhaled deeply.

His hand fisted in her hair and pulled her back. “No, you don’t get to taste first. Get in there, on the bed. Don’t touch anything!” He pointed to the hall.

“Yes, Sir.” She crawled and hoped he’d give her everything she deserved. Kneeling on the bed, she folded her hands in her lap. She’d seen handcuffs, toys and other fun things on his dresser. He’d planned for her like this. The thrill took her deeper into wanting to please him. As much as her cunt throbbed for attention, she needed his attention everywhere.

He walked in, and she looked. Then she stared. He was naked, and his thick cock made her body shiver at the thought of riding him.

“Hands behind your head. Lie back flat on the bed,” he said.

That was definately Sinfully Hot.  You can buy Love and History here:–love-and-history-masters-wanted-series-by-cheryl-dragon.html


Saturday Sexcerpt – Order of Chaos by Rhonda Print

 Here’s an excerpt from The Order of Chaos!

He turned me around and melted me with a look that skimmed me from the top of my head to the toes of the stiletto heels that I still wore. I started to kick the shoes off but he stopped me. “Leave those on.” His voice grew deeper, sultry.

I did a little spin that would make any runway model proud. He grabbed me and tossed me onto the bed while we laughed. “Yes, definitely keep the shoes on.”

“You owe me.” I reminded him.

He stripped off my jeans and flipped me onto my stomach. He began caressing my neck, my shoulders, then further south; alternating between gentle sweeps of his hands and a firmer kneading motion that sprang Goosebumps from my body. I felt the bra strap come undone before his hands slid to the flimsy piece of elastic of my panties. His fingers trailed them down my legs until he removed them completely. Then those magic fingers began caressing their way up my legs, teasing the tender skin on the back of my knees and inner thighs. I heard the Velcro of my holster tear away and felt the weight of my pistol lift off my waist. “Nightstand.” He murmured knowing that I felt more secure if I knew where my weapons were. Then his mouth blazed molten lava on my thighs and I forgot all about weapons.

Saturday Sexcerpt – Blood Crystal by Jannifer Hoffman

Here’s our Saturday Sexcerpt given to us by Jannifer Hoffman From Blood Crystal:

Stephen and Dani are on the run. They don’t know the bad guys from the good guys.

Stephen dropped the towel he had in his hand and covered the four steps separating them. “Get your clothes off, baby cakes, we’re burning darkness.”

Laughing, Dani stood up to undo her jeans. “You do know how to romance a lady.” Both her jeans and underpants barely hit the floor when his firm body came against her. He pulled her into his arms and brought his mouth down on her lips with a need so hungry it stole her breath away. She ran her hands greedily over the taut skin on his back and arms. His body was warm and smooth and she couldn’t get enough of touching him.

He stepped back long enough to pull her t-shirt over her head, then laid her back on the bed. He was between her legs in an instant, reaching down to touch her.

“Dani, Dani, you are so ready for me. I love that about you. Someday we won’t be rushed and I’m going to take my time making love to you.” When he pressed into her, filling her with his rigid member, she gasped with pleasure. He started moving against her then stopped, suddenly motionless.

Her heart raced even faster than it had been. She thought he heard something. When he pulled out and reached for his jeans, she panicked.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“I forgot the condom.”

She drew her hands up and ran them through her hair. “Oh my gosh, you scared the daylights out of me.”

He had the little packet ripped open and he hesitated looking at her. “Would you rather have a baby? Say the word.”

“Will you just get that damn thing on and get back here. We can talk about procreating another time.”

Stephen chuckled and was back on top of her in three seconds. Then he was back inside of her, moving slow and easy, driving her out of her mind.

He kissed her eyes, her mouth, her cheeks, and worked his way back to her lips. “Oh honey, you feel so good. You’re so tight. So hot. You must have a furnace inside you.”

He continued making love to her with his body and his words. She wrapped her legs around him and drew him tighter and closer while his deliberate easy motion brought her to the verge of ecstasy and held her there for longer than seemed possible. She heard herself begging him to end it. His hands came under her, gripping her buttocks and crying out her name over and over when he found his release. The sound he made finally took her over the edge with him.

You can find more Jannifer Hoffman romances on her website:

See you on Tuesday with another Double Trouble!


Saturday Sexcerpt – Faking Perfection by Mia Watts

CAUTION:  Male/Male Scene Ahead  (male/male – PG 13)

This is from Faking Perfection, coming out through DreamSpinner Press. Garth is a Priest and this book will be the first in the Men of the Cloth series.

The man held Garth’s face, a solid warm palm on either side. His fingers touched the top whirls of his ears. His thumb stroked Garth’s bottom lip. Shadows hid the man’s face dipping his eye sockets, jaw, throat into blackness where the planes were merely lit to charcoal gray obscurity. No features, no facial landmarks to distinguish this man from any of the other guests.

Garth knew what was coming. It was impossible not to as preciously as he was held and as rigid as the anonymous cock was which insistently pressed his. He knew he should pull away, yet curling his fingers through the man’s empty belt loops came far too naturally.

It was hot, forbidden to acknowledge and accept the invasion of tall, lean muscle into his space, to feel the way the man had difficulty catching his breath and the quick thrum of his heart when their chests met.

Garth dragged his hands up the man’s sides, enjoyed the firm ridges of honed flesh through thin cotton, the hills and valleys of ribcage, and the strangled groan his touch elicited in another human being. It had been so long since he’d been touched. It was the only rationalization Garth latched on to, his explanation for why he didn’t pull away.

He was going to hell, for sure.

The man wasted no time, sweeping his head down until his hair brushed Garth’s forehead. It should have prepared him, yet there existed no preparation for the tangled sensations of male lips and Garth’s guilty pleasure at being tasted in the darkness. He humored himself with pretending he hadn’t sought the kiss, that he hadn’t encouraged it until it was brought upon him under the cover of night. The truth beat at the door of his conscience, calling him out for a liar.

Garth wanted this kiss.

The man must have felt his initial hesitation, because he pulled back to allow Garth room, perhaps. The cooler night air touching Garth’s fevered, moist lips proved too much of a loss for him to ignore. With a guttural groan of his own, he pulled the man back, lifted his face to him and committed an irreversible moment to tactile memory.

A familiar face flashed behind Garth’s eyelids as he imagined that man and this, joined into the one who was kissing him. And that was the truth of his fall from grace. If it could be anyone, he’d want that man. Imagination spurred his desire and desire to action.

He slid his hands over the man’s chest, curled them into his shoulders, traced his throat with curious fingers, and finally clasped him closer still with hands on either side of his face in a mirrored, urgent embrace.

“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” the man whispered against Garth’s lips.

Questions stumbled through his mind. None found a voice. He’d assumed he’d been mistaken for someone else. But this man suggested he’d known who Garth was and had sought him out for the brief encounter.

Dread seeped around the edges of bliss. Knowing who he was, and kissing him anyway, meant there would always be someone who knew he’d slipped up. Yet Garth didn’t want the moment to end and there wouldn’t be another like it. He knew for a fact this experience was singular, because he couldn’t let it happen again.

Warm lips slid across his. If he’d be condemned, then he’d make the most of this moment. Temptation scattered his fears to the night. Garth parted his mouth, daring to touch the tip of his tongue to the other man’s. His quest met the hard edge of teeth and the man chuckled. Garth retreated, chagrined for trying to take too much when the kiss he’d been offered gave flight to a lifetime of fantasies he’d never pursue.

“Don’t you dare chicken out on me, now,” the man whispered, gruffly.

His fingers cradled the back of Garth’s head as he kissed in earnest. There was no escaping the forceful molding of his lips or the thrust of the man’s tongue as he penetrated Garth’s mouth with seductive purpose.

Garth’s knees went weak. Trying to regain his balance, he changed his hold to clasp the man’s shoulders. His world spun. Even closing his eyes didn’t keep the spinning sensation at bay. He wanted. Oh God, he wanted.

The kiss ended and his shadowed seducer pressed his cheek against Garth’s. “I meant to take that slower. Forgive me?”

Hysterical laughter stuttered from Garth’s chest. Forgiveness? How could the fallen offer forgiveness to anyone? Forgiveness? How could Garth ask for forgiveness when he had no illusion that he didn’t want this? There was no forgiveness without repentance and with sick dread Garth realized he’d never repent. Repentance meant moving on and this stranger, wearing another man’s image in Garth’s mind, had effectively captured him for the rest of time.

Hell would welcome him with open arms.

That was Naughty….You can find Mia Watts other works below.