Paranormal Fantasies: A Promotional Collection of 14 Erotic Supernatural Stories (20 page)

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Authors: Annabel Bastione

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Adult, #paranormal erotica, #vampires, #anthology, #werewolf, #free, #sex, #erotic fiction, #supernatural, #erotica, #paranormal bundle, #Anthologies

BOOK: Paranormal Fantasies: A Promotional Collection of 14 Erotic Supernatural Stories
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Sit on the edge of the bed and lie back, but leave your feet
over the side,” He commanded, releasing me from his grasp. I did as
I was told, eager to feel whatever new pleasure he wished to give
me. Trembling with desire, I positioned myself as he’d instructed
and waited for him to move.

For what seemed like an eternity he stood still, inspecting me
with his gaze. I ached to feel his touch, but did not dare move for
fear of disobeying his command. Finally he moved, parting my knees
wide to expose my most sensitive flesh to his view.


What will you taste like, beautiful?” He asked, blowing a long
draw of warm air across my swollen core. I shivered. “Will you be
sweet? I think so.” His words were enough to send liquid rushed to
my already wet center.

The first brush of his tongue was unlike anything I’d ever
felt. He’d used his hands in our explorations, but never his
tongue, and to feel him between my legs was a greater paradise than
I’d ever hoped to see again. With each pass of his tongue pleasure
rocketed through me, building and building into a great wave of
sensation threatening to crash down on my head and drown
me.

I came in a rushing torrent of pleasure, trembling more each
time his tongue swept over my sensitive flesh to elicit little
sounds of pleasure from me even after I’d screamed for
him.


You’re so sweet,” he murmured against me, lifting his gaze to
meet mine as I drifted lazily back down from the crash of emotion
and pleasure he’d sent through me. “Want to taste?” I nodded
greedily and he rose up from the floor to take my mouth with his
own.

It was incredibly erotic, to taste myself on his lips and
tongue as he lay claim to my mouth once more. My hands sought out
the bulging length of him, still trapped beneath clothes. He
groaned when I wrapped my hands around him, breaking the kiss to
pull away.


Not this time. I want to savor you, and if you touch me like
that, I’m afraid I will come undone in your hands before I have the
chance to claim you properly.” I allowed him to remove my hands and
watched as he pulled away the clothes that were the finally barrier
between us. I’d seen his chest before, but it still took my breath
away, the hard muscles bulging beneath tightly drawn
skin.

His cock stood at attention, jutting out from his hips like a
dangerous weapon waiting to be used. It was enormous, and for a
fleeting moment I was afraid I would be unable to take him within
me.


I will never do anything to harm you, my love. Believe that of
me.” His reassurance was all it took to melt away my trepidation.
He’d saved me from a nightmare and given me all I could ever ask,
and I trusted him completely.

Sensing that my fear had left me, he moved back into the space
between my legs to kiss me once more, his length probing gently at
my heated entrance. I moaned at the contact, need building within
me again even though I’d only just found release. Hooking an arm
around the small of my back, he picked me up to settle me fully on
the bed, never quite breaking the kiss.

He pushed a single finger into me and I gasped, the intrusion
strange and wonderful all at once. Tiny movements sent
extraordinary pleasure rushing through me, and soon he’d pushed
another finger into my dripping entrance, preparing me to take his
enormous member. His fingers danced across my clit, arousing me
even more to allow me to take another finger inside myself. I
squirmed beneath his touch, desperate to feel his length inside
me.

The third finger burned as it pushed its way past my
maidenhead, but the pleasures he’d already brought to my writhing
body far out weighted the slight discomfort. I cried out as another
orgasm swept over me, my inner muscles clenching around his fingers
as he continued to stretch my entrance until I could almost feel it
tear beneath the cloudy haze of pleasure.

He withdrew as I floated down from the high of pleasure he’d
created within me. I cried out at the loss, the emptiness unnatural
after having felt him inside me. His mouth captured mine,
swallowing the sound as he positioned himself between my thighs,
the swollen head of his member probing my entrance.


It’s still going to hurt, and for that I am sorry. But not
even I can keep that pain from you.” He kissed me again, as if to
apologize for something that was out of his control.


I do not blame you for whatever pain you may cause. I want
you. Right here and right now. Please don’t deny me this because
you fear hurting me.” He smiled at my reply, eyes burning with
passion. He guided himself into me, pushing past my maiden barrier
with a single, hard stroke.

I cried out at the suddenness of the pain, tears leaking from
my eyes even as he kissed them away, uttering sweet words to calm
me until the hurt went away. Once the initial pain faded, I found
myself lost to another wave of desire. He filled me fully, the
tightness of my inner muscles stretched to their limits to
accommodate his size. And when he began to move, I swore to myself
that nothing else could ever compare to the pleasure I felt, then
and there.

His strokes became more and more intent, driving in and out of
me like a man desperate to lay claim to that which he saw as his.
And I was his to claim, riding the waves of emotion and pleasure
higher and higher until the world shattered around me, my orgasm
blinding in intensity. A few strokes later he joined me, shouting
out as he shot his seed inside me. All too soon he pulled away to
collapse on the bed, pulling me across rumpled sheets to rest in
the warmth of his embrace.

 

It's been more years than I can count since that night. He
rules his kingdom during the day, but at the first sight of the
moon peeking out above the horizon he is mine to do with as I
please.

Sometimes, when I gaze up at the sunless sky and wait for my
lord to return to me, I wonder what it would have been like had I
repented and gone to paradise. Even with the furthest extent of my
imagination, I cannot seem to conceive a notion of a place I would
rather be. My home is not one of extreme beauty or delight, and
true happiness is rarely found. But he is here, and for me, that
makes it grander than even the most perfect paradise could ever
hope to be.

END :)

 

If you liked this story, then don't forget to look out for
Snow White, coming soon!

 

Excerpt:

 

It was on a tide of his words that
she drifted off to sleep again, her dreams filled with images of
men she’d never met going on brave adventures and meeting the loves
of their lives.

When next she woke, the only light
was what little starlight filtered down through the trees outside
her window and through the lattice to cast their pale light on the
wooden floor. Owain no longer occupied the chair at her bedside.
She yawned and stretched her arms above her head, needing movement
desperately after what seemed like days in bed.

Hopeful, Eirwen tried to sit,
pulling herself up slowly. The room remained stationary, and she
managed to pull herself into an upright position. That small battle
won, she looked around the room, taking in the soft outlines of the
furniture in the glow of the moonlight.

Not wishing to go back to sleep so
soon, she decided to brave standing. It took a good bit of careful
movement, but soon she was on her feet. Her first few steps were
wobbly, her legs unsure how to work after being unused for so long.
But soon she was steady again, if a bit slow. Her first few steps
away from the bed were a perilous adventure, but she made it to the
door without incident, and began her exploration of the
house.

The hallway was long, with at least
half a dozen doors leading off in either direction. She assumed
they each led to a bedroom, and did not dare disturb those within.
Instead, she braved the stairs in the hopes of exploring the common
areas of the house. The handrail proved to be her saving grace as
she hobbled to the ground floor. The foot of the stairwell opened
up on a large family room. Chairs and benches were arranged in a
semi-circle around the fireplace creating a warm, welcoming place
to chat in the winter. Large windows opened up onto a garden,
shutters thrown wide in welcome to the cool night air.

Eirwen shivered. Moonlight streamed
through the window lattice, highlighting the iridescent pale skin
for which she was named. She stood in the soft glow, staring out at
the nighttime forest and marveling at how little fear the trees
held for her now that she was far from her stepmother’s
grasp.

An unfamiliar sound broke her free
of her reverie, drawing her attention from the world outside to the
one within the walls. The faint glow of a distant candle led her
through an open door to a small hallway, where a single door stood,
slightly ajar. Curious, she peered through the crack, seeking out
the source of the sound.

A man she’d never seen before lay
sprawled on the bed, entirely naked. He was taller than Owain,
fair-headed and muscular where Owain was dark and lean. His large
hand grasped at his manhood, pumping up and down in a steady rhythm
as he groaned from the sensation. He writhed and spasmed in
pleasure, eyes closed as some unseen fantasy played for
him.

Eirwen flushed from head to breast,
her skin a warm and vibrant red at the realization of what she was
witnessing. A man pleasuring himself in the same way a lover might.
Though she’d occasionally stumbled across one of the maids in
compromising positions with various male servants in her
stepmother’s household, she’d never witnessed such abandon, or even
such a lack of clothing.

It set something deep within her
aflame, sending heat to places she’d never thought to feel such
things. Backing away from the hall, she sank into a chair and
closed her eyes. Images of Owain flashed through her mind. What he
would look like, sprawled out on a bed like that. What it would
feel like to be the one to do such things to him. She tried to be
angry with herself for betraying her prince in such a way, but she
couldn’t help the way the thoughts sent little tendrils of pleasure
coiling through her, or how those tendrils of pleasure seemed to
coalesce into an overwhelming feeling of warmth and
happiness.

She shook herself from the fantasy.
She’d only just escaped the loss of her virtue to the huntsman. How
could she even begin to think about throwing it away on a man she
barely knew? She pulled herself to her feet and started back for
the stairs. A good night’s sleep and she’d forget all about her
indiscretion.

She’d just reached the foot of the
stairs when she ran into something solid. The unexpected impact
sent her tumbling to the floor, a sinking suspicion in the pit of
her stomach. Looking up, her suspicions were confirmed. A
bare-chested Owain stood over her, concern shining in his
remarkable brown eyes.

“What’re you doing out of bed,
miss? You’re not fit to be up and about just yet!”

 

Other titles by Lorelai
Phoenix include:

 

Seducing the
Teacher

Grad student Tracie just can't seem to get her mind off of
sexy Professor Browning. When an outrageous stunt lands her an
invitation to his office, she slips into sexy schoolgirl fashion to
take her punishment. But will her horny professor's demands be too
much for her to handle? Warning: This 4,400 word short story
contains hot student-teacher action, light bdsm and may be too hot
to handle!
 

 

Sleepover
Sexprise

When shy virgin Mitchell refuses to sleep in his own bed,
Sharon has a plan. She'll use every trick in the book to seduce him
back into his room. But will her womanly wiles win her a place in
his heart? Warning: This 3,400 word short story contains steaming
showers, lots of oral and a first time you won't soon
forget!

 

About the Author

 

Mild-mannered English teacher by day, raunchy smut-slinger by
night, Lorelai Phoenix aims to misbehave. Lorelai lives in the
southeast with her husband and their two cats, Chaucer and Captain
Nemo.

 

* * * * *

The Hunt

By

N.S.
Charles

 

Copyright © 2012 by N.S. Charles

 

* * * *
*

 

The fire grew low in that cave in the woods. It smelt of bear
dander and dried dung, decades past, and now the smell of burning
tinder and dried grasses permeated the air. The man next to the
fire was leaning back against the wall, his hands making a bit of
use in the firelight with his whetstone. He sharpened his blade in
the low light, waiting for the grouse to finish cooking.

One of his hands found another piece of kindling and he threw
it into the fire, watching it flare up, hearing it crackle and pop
as the flames ate the wood away. He went back to his work, running
the smooth, gray stone over his sword, taking care to hold it
securely as he worked both sides to razor sharp
perfection.

Something moved in the corner of his eye and he was on to his
feet immediately, brandishing the blade in his right hand and
grabbing up his leather targe in the other. The hard crack of
thunder rebounded off of the craggy, vine-taken walls of the bear’s
cave as a sharp streak of lightning blossomed in the
sky.

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