SEDUCTION
Waves of black lust filled her, but she knew the emotion belonged to Tequelin. He tightened his grip and took her ear lobe into his mouth, biting it. Pain radiated down her arm mixed with a kind of desire that drenched her.
“I smell your need,” he whispered in her ear.
“No!” she growled through her teeth.
In a swift move, he whirled her around and buried his face in her neck. His teeth and hot tongue sent ribbons of electricity pulsing through her body. His hands were iron on her upper arms.
Belle. The name in her head burned away her defiance.
Passion moved over her skin in waves of wanton need, charging her with a craving that threatened to obscure her reason. She suddenly ached to succumb to his touch, offer her body to his hands and his mouth, bathe in his desire. Every fiery touch from his mouth stiffened his hold on her.
I want you. Open yourself to me.
The compelling tones of his thoughts were overcoming her resistance. She knew she had to do something before her body surrendered to him. The seduction made her weak, stole her resolve. Another few minutes and her strength would collapse. Sighs of pleasure leaked from her lips.
He entwined her hair in one hand and pulled her head back to examine her face. The large eyes were almost midnight now, shaded by growing black pupils. She could feel his lust quivering against her skin. Belle had never been more terrified. – The Belle Stalker – Chapter Forty-Eight
TODAY’S PRIZE: CRITIQUE OF YOUR SEX SCENE (Maximum 10 pages) OR A COPY OF THE BELLE STALKER
I’m told I write a pretty mean sex scene (since I think we’re all adults here, I’ve put two examples down below, so keep reading). That always tickles me because actually, I don’t know if it’s the sex or the seduction people like. It has been stated, and quite correctly, I think, that sex has no substance without love. I agree with that statement. But I will take it one step further; sex has no juice without seduction.
Sex takes place in (let’s be realistic here) about thirty minutes. Seduction can go on for days. That’s what I think makes for a satisfying sex scene, so I’ve created a pseudo formula for it: # of hours of successful seduction x the amount of frustration + the number of times fire is sparked x # of hours of actually sexual contact = decree of satisfaction. I think it would read something like this:
___ HSS x ___% F + ___Hot x ___HASC = ____% Hubba, Hubba
If a writer is doing her job, she should have you so horny by the time the hero and heroine finally get together that you’re standing up on the end of the bed whipping your panties around your head, jumping up and down and screaming to your frightened husband, “Do you wanna?” Now that’s the mark of a true genius. I honestly think the longer the seduction (and/or foreplay, if you’d like) the greater the satisfaction in the end. Some of my favorite books have been hundreds of pages of foreplay leading to that final climax. But for me, the seduction has to be hot, full of innuendos and double entendres, a little humor (i.e. missed chances, interruptions at inopportune times, misunderstandings, wardrobe failures, and possibly even malfunctioning equipment), a lot of resistance, and finally that no holds barred, clash of the titans, bells ringing, birds singing sex scene. Don’t know if I have that exactly right yet, but it takes practice and precise choreography. My poor husband. ~shakes head~
So how about you? When do you like to see the hero and heroine knock socks together? Early in the story, in the middle, or towards the end? Or do you like all those options? Would you rather she be gently seduced for hours or thrown on the bed and ravished? Do you want him rough and powerful, or sweet and patient? Or maybe sweet and rough? Make sure to leave a comment if you want to win today’s prize: a free 10-page critique of your own sex scene… or, for you non-writers, a copy of THE BELLE STALKER.
THE BELLE STALKER
An Urban Fantasy Thriller
by Minnette Meador
The police have done all they can, but it isn’t enough. When Belle finds the mutilated body of her lover strewn across the furniture she knows only her ex-husband, Homicide Detective Mike Cranston can stop the maniac who has been dogging her steps for over a year. The only problem is the man who stalks her...is not a man at all. Belle plays a dangerous game and only hopes that Cranston can stop the monster before it’s too late.
Oh, here are those scenes I promised… ~wicked grin~
…and need I repeat, ADULT CONTENT… :o)
Belle reached for him, but he grabbed her wrists and twisted his lips into what he hoped was his most devious smile. Her blush deepened followed by a twinge of anger. But this was one dance Cranston knew very well.
Without missing a beat, he moved her hands above her head and held both wrists together with one hand. Straddling her hips, he lowered his body to hover above her, careful to let only one part of it touch her.
His cock rested gently on her belly, and her ensuing quiver went through him like a drug. The beat of her heart pulsed against the muscle, and Cranston had to find a deep reserve of discipline to control his urges.
Slowly, deliberately, he leaned forward and began to kiss her face, lick her neck and shoulders. With each new application of pressure, Belle squirmed under him. The skin touching his lips was hot and yielding, velvety against his rough tongue.
When he reached her breasts, he stopped, admiring the granite hard brown nipples and dark areolas. Belle’s chest rose, obviously frantic for his mouth, but he didn’t touch her. Instead, he looked into her eyes and smiled.
“Greedy girl.”
“You bastard,” she said good-naturedly.
In reply, Cranston pursed his lips and began to blow on her right nipple. The creamy areola immediately broke out in large bumps, the rough dark nipple grew in size, and Belle let out a startled gasp. This was something new, and a wave of satisfaction plowed through Cranston. He knew Belle would love it.
Moving to the other side, Cranston repeated the motion and Belle’s hips bucked under him, burying his cock into the skin of her stomach. He lifted it from her, and she groaned.
“Patience, princess.”
She hissed angrily through her teeth, and Cranston laughed. Letting go of her hands, he bent down again and licked the soft skin around her nipple, careful not to touch it. Then, without warning, he pulled the tiny bud into his mouth and bit it gently.
Belle exploded beneath him. Her body jumped involuntarily, and Cranston could feel the earthquake of her need ripple through him. He decided to torture her further.
Now going back and forth between them, he licked, bit and sucked each nipple until they were as hard as steel. Belle squeezed the sheets with her hands on each pass and finally lifted her head.
“I want you in my mouth.” Her voice was husky, ardent.
“Anything for a lady.” – THE BELLE STALKER, CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The apparition put her hands out to her sides and floated above him. Sliding her mouth in a slow, even progression, she moved down his shaft until it disappeared into her throat. Keenan could feel it give way to his engorged muscle. His hips, suddenly free, moved to her rhythm, and she let him thrust his cock deep into her throat. It was incredible.
The apparition finally moved away from him, sticking out a long tongue that wrapped around his cock twice. If it wasn’t so erotic, he probably would have been scared shitless, but the thought didn’t even enter his mind; Keenan knew he was too far-gone by then.
Bringing a breast to his mouth, she ran a swollen nipple against his lips until it pushed them open. Keenan didn’t hesitate. He pulled the long bud into his mouth and sucked it forcefully, biting it from time to time, and running his tongue over the rough skin. The sensation of that warm flesh in his mouth sent shivers down both arms. He ached to touch her, but his arms were lead weights at his sides.
She pulled the nipple from his teeth and settled her knees on either side of his hips. Lifting up on her haunches, she forced his cock to lay flat against his stomach then slid the soft petals of her pussy along it all the way to his balls, saturating them with moisture. Keenan wasn’t certain, but he could have sworn her pussy lips were squeezing them. She moved up to the head of his cock and slowly widened them with his shaft. She was soaking wet.
Careful not to take him inside her, she rubbed the soft folds of hot flesh up and down, slowly, back and forth, all the while squeezing her nipples and wrapping that long tongue around them one at a time.
A soft distant moan sounded everywhere at once inside Keenan’s bedroom, as if the room itself sighed in pleasure. In a split second, he saw her eyes; they were black opals shining in the dark, but they clouded over immediately. – A GHOST OF A CHANCE, CHAPTER TWO
Thank you, Minnette,
And here are ways you can connect to her,
http://youtu.be/avY8W6i0rw4 Audio Excerpt
http://minnettemeador.blogspot.com/p/books-by-minnette.html Written Excerpt
http://minnettemeador.blogspot.com/ Blog URL
Also Minnette will be giving away a small Kindle($79) plus a Portland Tote filled with goodies to one randomly drawn commenter, along with daily prizes)
Anita
www.anitaphilmar.com