Sex Scene Saturday

Secret Connection:  Francine wants what she wants, the hot hunky cigar smoker in the kilt…

Heat crept up her cheeks.  Nipples tightened into hardened buds.  Her jeans grew damper.

The subtle rush of adrenaline mixed with hormones began to flood her body.

Waving once more at the Englishman, she sauntered over to him and took a seat in the large leather chair beside his.

He shifted in his chair and faced her.  His calf brushed hers.  Pushing dark glasses back up his nose, he smiled.  “Hi.  I couldn’t help but notice you were staring in so I thought I’d offer you a seat.”

She smiled, tilting her head to one side.  Running a hand through her hair, she waited a beat before answering in a soft voice.  “Yeah.  I was just curious about what goes on in one of these shops.  I’ve never been in here.”

“Well,” he took another puff from his ridiculously huge cigar and blew smoke into the air away from her, “just this.”

The depth of his voice rumbled in the quiet of the lounge.  “Just this?”

He waved smoke from her. “Yup.  I’ve had a long day.  Been at the office all day busy and just need to unwind.  How about you?”

“Oh,” she leaned back in the chair, “I understand those days.”  She lifted a hand to her head and began twirling strands of hair around her fingers, all while watching the direction of his gaze.

His eyes reached her chest.

Something low pulled in her gut.  Nipples ached against the fabric of her top.

Kilt man shifted his weight again and spread his legs, letting the material of his kilt fall between his thighs.

Her eyes riveted to his lap.

He smiled.  “My name’s Don.”  Setting his cigar aside, he extended his hand to her.

She reached for him, “Francis.”  The touch of his skin, rough fingers against her more delicate hands sent an electric spark through her that rushed straight to her core.

Only in San Francisco would something like this happen.

She felt the stare of two other pairs of eyes on her and heat rose in her cheeks.

It didn’t matter.  She would find out what Don wore beneath his kilt and she’d have it buried in her soon.

“I was curious,” he picked up his cigar and took a puff, filling the air with a thick plume of smoke and the scent of wood, “what a woman like you would stare at a guy like me for.”

“What do you mean?”  She leaned forward, setting her weight on the arm of the chair, making sure that her cleavage showed.

Don’s eyes hid behind sunglasses but stared at her.

He was playing into her hands.  “Yum.”

He took off his shades and arched a brow. “Pardon?”

She thought she whispered the word!  Oh well. “I like uniquely attractive men and with your beautiful hair I couldn’t help but notice you.”

Don slid his glasses back on and brushed strands of blonde hair behind his ear.  “I see.  I definitely appreciate the compliment.”

Francis leaned further into Don’s personal space, far enough that she could practically smell him over the cigar. “I’d like you to come see me sometime.”  She licked her lower lip, letting her tongue glide along her mouth ever so slowly while remaining aware that his eyes were watching that tongue behind those shades.

He started to puff on his cigar but stopped short.  Crossing one leg over the other, Don set the cigar in the ashtray beside him and looked at the other two men behind him, then back at Francis.

His heated gaze burned her skin, made her wetter.

“I’d like to do that.  How late do you work til?”

She sat back in her chair and checked her watch before turning her attention to the empty humidor.  “Let me buy you a smoke and we’ll figure out it.”

Without waiting for his response, she stood and headed towards the humidor.  Pushing the heavy door open, she walked past it and let it slam shut.

The noise of the door shutting startled her but she kept her poise while browsing through the various cigars and keeping an eye on Don.

He took another puff on the stogie and set it down.  Slowly, he made his way past the Englishman and opened the door to the humidor, carefully shutting it behind him.  “What’s your favorite aroma?”

Need poured from his voice that made her nipples harder beneath her shirt. She adjusted her jacket over her shoulders and turned to face him while running her fingers up and down the length of a rather large cigar.  “I personally enjoy a manly scent.  Something about the ruggedness of man who knows what he likes just…” she purred, “does it for me.”

Up close he was a good eight inches taller than she.

Don slid his glasses down his nose and arched an eyebrow. “Really now?”

She nodded.  Pointing to a box of cigars that read “Executive,” she picked one up and caressed the length of the fat stogie.  “Are these any good?”

“I see you like robust things.”  He stepped closer, his hand now brushing her elbow.  “That’s a personal favorite of mine.”

The rise and fall of his chest was amusing. “Will this work?”

He pushed his glasses back up his nose and smiled. “When and where?”

Now was her chance. “Half an hour, top of the building?”

“Done.”  He leaned into her and brushed his lips over hers in a gentle caress that ended with the flick of his tongue over her lips.

She started to kiss him back but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“Not here.  I don’t care about the ribbing from the two jackasses in the lounge but we are in a public place.”

She smirked. “That wouldn’t stop me.”

His lips curled upwards in a sly smile.  “Me either.  But I’m not a minute man, either.”

She purred low and breathy, “Good.”

“I’ll see you in half an hour then?  Top of the building?”

She nodded. Taking the large cigar with her, she exited the humidor, dropped a twenty on the counter in front of the Englishman and told him to keep the change before walking out of the shop and back to her mundane little security desk next door.

Her hormones were alive with desire coursing through her body.  There wouldn’t be any disturbances atop the seven story building other than the breeze and night sky.

Thankfully it was only moderately cool outside at this hour.

Though she wasn’t sure it would matter once Don showed up and slid his length inside her to heat things up.

Half an hour later, Francis took leave from the desk and made her way to the rooftop of the building. She remembered to leave the cigar on her desk hidden from anyone’s view.

Pushing her way through the large metal door, sent butterflies dancing wildly through her stomach but her jeans were already soaked so much that she could smell her own arousal.

“Now, I wait.”  She checked her watch.  She’d give him five minutes.  Tossing her keys aside, she realized the fewer accoutrements she wore, the better.

Leaning over the edge of the building gave her a view of Market Street, along with the sounds of cable cars clanging down the tracks.

A pair of hands on her hips startled her.

~~ BUY Madison’s Cure on Amazon

Check out more Sex Scene Saturday posts

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Leigh Elwood

Published in: on June 22, 2012 at 4:52 pm  Comments (2)  
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Sex Scene Saturday – Lisa’s Sway

This is from an unreleased and unfinished story – Lisa’s Sway.  It’s my attempt at the Harlequin BLAZE market.

BLURB:  Real Estate mogul Sam Gallo is caught up in a scandal that could ruin his business and needs help.  He hires a PR firm to help him only to discover the person they send out is none other than Lisa Delbeck, his old high school sweetheart.

Lisa Delbeck couldn’t be more lucky to get hired by Professional Image Inc, the PR firm that specializes in disaster recovery.  Her first assignment and the one that will make her career is with Gallo Investments.  Her surprise comes when she comes face to face with her old boyfriend, Sam Gallo.

He’s rich and she’s struggling but can she help his company in the face of adversity even as her heart screams to stay away from him?


Sam Gallo scanned the room on his way in. He spotted several other investors he’d dealt with and groaned.  The pain of being at one of these boring charity fundraisers, he could handle.  But the showiness of it all, that was another matter altogether.

His suit made him stand out from the others.  Instead of wearing typical black, which Sam would have preferred, his secretary and best friend had chosen a deep blue suit that complimented his eyes.  His dark hair had been pulled back into a braid, rather than a ponytail and hung just over his shoulders.

What he wouldn’t kill for a cigar or his pipe right now.

“Do I have to go to this fundraiser, Kristie?”

She nodded and blonde curls bobbed over her green eyes. “Yes, my dear.   You do.  It’s important that we don’t look like assholes with money.”

He groaned.  Yet he understood where she came from and had to agree.  Too many times Sam had experienced sneers from some of the clients who bought houses from him.

“You’re making a lot of money off me,” they’d say.

“I’m providing a new home for you,” was his only response.  Then he’d turn on his heels and walk away, annoyed at their scornful looks burning into his back.

But this party was supposed to be a way to deflect some of the negative attention he’d been receiving since the economic crash.  His company had survived and gave him permission to stand here with the others.

Sharks, that’s what many of them were.  They couldn’t care less about the people they placed in homes. Many of them had contacts at the SEC and Federal Reserve that helped bail them out or rewrite the rules slightly to avoid bankruptcy since some of the country’s top hard money lenders were at this fundraiser for…

What was it again?

Sam scratched his head and sighed. Then he made his way through the thick crowd and towards the open bar.

His eyes roamed over the bartender’s body.  She was lithe, redheaded and had ample bosoms but wasn’t really his type.  “Double scotch please, on the rocks.”

“Yes sir,” her smile seemed to light up when he spoke.  Eyes twinkled and gave off her age. Yet she filled the glass with ice and poured Jonny Walker into his glass.

It was his least favorite by far, but it’d help pass the time and keep him from opening his mouth too much. If he appeared to always be taking a drink, then he’d look like everyone else.

A quick glance around the room revealed that plenty of funds had been spent to throw this shindig. Colorful streamers hung from the ceiling.  A few lights hung in the back corner to his left while a DJ spun records from some obscure genre of house and techno Sam wasn’t familiar with.

Behind him, the open bar.  In front of him, a sea of people he had no desire to be surrounded by swayed and danced to the beats.

He swirled his drink impatiently and took sips periodically. The boredom was enough to drive him up the wall, but his presence here was the only thing required.

Later on, photographers would come in during the party’s highlights and take photographs for the local newspaper and he had to be seen among them.

A large banner hung across the back wall between the light and the DJ booth that read “Foundation for Saving Galveston Bay.”  The large letters seemed to mock Sam.

He took another swallow of scotch and set his empty glass on the bar.

“Care for another?”  The bartender fluttered long eyelashes at him.

“Sure.” He pulled out his wallet, dropped a $10 in the tip jar and met her gaze.  “No ice. If there’s better scotch, I’d prefer that.”

The edge in his voice hinted at naughty things and made the bartender blush.  “Sure thing,” she stammered and stepped back from the bar.  Bending over gave Sam a glorious view of an ample ass meant for holding onto while some man, preferably Sam, drove himself into her sweet core.

He shook off the thought.  It wasn’t like he was looking to scratch an itch, though it had been some time since he’d blown off some steam.  Too much work, not enough play.  Tonight he thought just briefly that he might find some attractive woman he could take for a spin, serve breakfast to and spend the day in bed with.

Just one day. More than that gave the appearance of desire for commitment, and Sam couldn’t do that.  His dedication to Gallo Investments was the one thing that drove him and taking more time off than was necessary caused problems, even with his personal assistant handling the workload.  Contractors were in constant need of babysitting, accounting had to be dealt with, and partners on projects had to be pacified.

It was always something. What he wouldn’t give for a week off from his job.

The bartender tilted her head and handed him a larger glass with something that smelled much better than the standard scotch. “This is an Islay we keep for our more…discerning guests.”

He took the drink and brought it to his nose.  The flavors swirled around with the liquid and assaulted his senses with a heady feeling that reminded him of peat and coal.  “Slante,” he offered her his best come hither after your shift smile and turned around.

His eyes caught sight of a woman sitting at one of the tables that had been pushed to the side.

Dark hair hung down the sides of her face in curls that seemed to have plenty of bounce. A red dress hugged luscious curves.  She sat bent over with delicate arms while she fumbled with her cell phone.

Probably texting a boyfriend or partner.


Oh well, it’s not like objections ever stopped him.

She looked up and their eyes met.

Instant recognition fought a fog in his mind as he struggled to remember who she was and why he should avoid her but the pull in his groin ultimately won out.

Drink in hand; he made his way to the table where she sat.

Instantly, she stiffened.

“Do I know you?”  Her voice was soft yet audible against the thudding bass.

He shook his head.  “I don’t believe so.  But I’d like to get to know the woman every man here has been too stupid to approach.”

She smiled and it felt false.  Sam was used to that.  Some women could smell him a mile away, others fell for his lines instantly.

The least this one could do was give him the benefit of the doubt.

She spoke dryly, “Lisa.  I’m here observing the jungle inhabitants.”

He nodded, “I see.  May I have a seat?”

“Sure,” she shrugged.  “I didn’t plan on being here too long but my boss said I’ll find clients this way.”

“Oh,” he groaned. He should have known someone had sent out their pretty face to gather money for their projects.

A perfectly manicured eyebrow rose.  “Is that a problem?”

He shook his head and flashed a sincere smile.

She blinked. “I’m not here to gouge anyone, Mr…”

“Please,” he offered his hand, “Call me Sam.”

She set her phone down and took his hand.  “Lisa.  Nice to meet you.”

Careful not to intimidate her, he let his touch linger just a second longer than was polite before withdrawing his hand. She was soft, her grip firm and indicative of power she seemed unaware of. “It’s a pleasure, Lisa.  So,” he looked over his shoulder and back at her, “What brings you here if not poaching.”

“Is that what they call it these days?”

Sam leaned back and took his drink in hand. “Well, my secretary uses that phrase to describe hopefuls who show up at these fundraisers looking for donations, handouts or funding for their latest charity or start up business. Nice to know you’re not here for that.”

“No,” she blinked again, “I have ulterior motives.”

The way the light hit her eyes made something low in Sam’s gut pull.  Desire, that’s what it was.

Her face was soft, sensual. Perfectly red lips puckered and blew a kiss at him.

He couldn’t stop the wicked smile that formed at his mouth. “Did you now?  Trying to bag a rich old man to wed?”

She snorted. “As if I’d want one of these old geezers.  Imagine having to sleep with them.” She waved a hand around them.

Sam chuckled. He knew half these vultures here had a long list of indiscretions that would definitely impact their bottom line.  None of them were as discerning as he was, nor were they as discreet.  “I can’t blame you. Half of them are rats.”

“Then why are you here?”

He groaned, “Because I’m in real estate and I have a lot of money and my personal assistant said I needed to come here and be seen so I don’t look like just another rich asshole.”

Lisa leaned back but left her hand on the table just in front of Sam.  “It sounds like your personal assistant is a smart man.”

“She,” he corrected, “is the reason I do a lot of things I’d rather not do.”

Lisa rolled her eyes.  “Glad she cares for her job.”

He sighed, “No,” he leaned forward and set his hand on hers.  “It’s not that. I’d never bother firing her, she’d probably kick my ass and I’d have to hear about it for days.”

Lisa frowned.  “I see.”

His fingers spread over her hand, lightly massaging her soft skin and her wrist, “No, it’s not like that. She’s my best friend and about the best thing to happen to me since the sixth grade.”

She laughed.  Desire twinkled in her eyes as her expression changed. She leaned forward, “That’s good to know.  I’d hate to think you were a bad man.”

“Oh,” he grinned wickedly, “I am. Just,” his voice dropped a few notches, “in a different manner than these fools.”

She nodded. “I think I like where this is going, Mr, uh..”

The look on her face said lust in the most feminine of manners.  He liked that.  “Sam. Mr. Gallo is too formal.”

Her eyes widened.  “Sam then.  Fine, since you insist.”

“I do.”  He leaned forward and brushed his lips over her knuckles in a slow, calculated movement before his tongue darted out to flick over her smooth skin.

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She smelled of ripe cherry and perfume.

The scent reminded him of someone.  But who?

Slowly, her hand retracted.  “Better if you try that on my mouth, Sam.”

When she leaned forward, Sam saw the tops of glorious cream colored breasts. The low cut top of her dress revealed her cleavage and made his heart skip a beat.

She stood and set her hands on her hips.

It was now or never.  His turn.


Check out more Sex Scene Saturday posts

Stella Price

Bridget Midway

Diana Castileja

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Sex Scene Saturday – Forced Pleasure

A pair of romantic bondage novellas

Time for Sex Scene Saturday and we’re going to stick with the trend of milking 50 Shades fame!  This excerpt comes from the first novella in Forced Pleasure, a pair of romantic bondage novellas out from Sizzler Editions.

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Blurb:Two more romantic tales of bondage from your humble author are served up in this collection. In Forced Pleasure, we have the struggle between want and need as Francine looks to help her relieve Micah’s stresses in a most unusual way only to realize that her lover Nick has plans of his own to handle both of their hearts. In Sweet Submission, Gawith is happy with his new kinky, poly family but the one thing that dogs him is the mistake he made with the woman who captured his heart.  Samantha is the perfect submissive, older, caring, loving and into the Lifestyle with just as much gusto as Gawith.  But his mistake could cost him the one thing he needs in order to be complete. BDSM tales in their own right are romance stories, though not always told in the typical fashion or given the typical outcome.  But to those who understand What It Is That We Do, there is a beauty never missed.


A fresh vase of red roses sat atop her desk and scented the room.  It also brightened her mood until she realized Micah was responsible for the flowers.


A note sat beneath a bottle of Aspirin and a glass of water. Francine sighed.

The back of her head hurt from slamming it back against Micah’s desk during his pussy eating session last night.  She rubbed the sore spot and acknowledged the memory with a little smirk before walking into her office. Her mind had raced with dozens of questions, most of which she swore she needn’t bother with since Micah was only going to fuck her.

When she spotted the note, she picked it up, flipped open the paper and smiled. He’d apologized for being rough with her last night.  The pills, extra flowers and water he’d picked up before she came into office.

The sun shone through the window, blaring down on Francine.  The rays made the red in her hair stand out and she made sure to take advantage of that when Micah walked past her.

Except that he ignored her.

Despite the release from last night, the second she saw Micah, her sex drive kicked into high gear.  There was definitely a difference in how she felt, as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

She should be grateful for the reprieve from the self-imposed stresses in her life. Instead, she was torn between being annoyed at him and wanting more.

Most of the day dragged by with Francine handling odd chores for Micah.  She’d talked to Nick on the phone earlier in the day, told him about the little incident, to which he’d laughed.  “You always were the one to instigate and rouse a man,” he told her. “I’ll be home soon enough and perhaps…we can see where this goes.”

That little bit made her heart race.  Micah was a very caring dominant male and had shown her that last night when she sobbed into his shoulder.  It wasn’t like her to have that sort of release with anyone except Nick.

He’d hardly spoken to her all day.  His office smelled like fresh pipe and the door had been left open. Any phone calls she put through to his office had gone straight to voicemail.

Squeezing her thighs together did nothing to release the steady buildup that made her want to prod and push him.

The door opened and Micah walked past her, pipe in hand.  The long gait in his stride exuded confidence.

Her curiosity rose.  She started after him but the look in his eyes showed his obvious concentration. Excitement sprinkled in his eyes despite the weary look on his face.

He was very work focused, that she admired.  The woman in her yearned to comfort him, hold him close and stroke his thick, satiny hair while they lay in bed together.  That same creature in her demanded she stalk after him, stop him and fuck him on the hardwood floor.

Micah came through her office again and headed into his.  “Oh,” he poked his head out, winked and continued, “Lunch is being delivered.”

The playful look in his eyes was hard to miss and made her wonder what he was up to.

Instantly, her thoughts went to last night’s impromptu bondage involving her skirt, panties and top that restricted her movements.  She unconsciously licked her lips.

Being tied up wasn’t something that took power away from her; rather, it gave her freedom.  She was tired of being the one in charge in her daily life and the fact that Nick traveled a lot meant that she had to do more than the usual woman when it came to taking care of not just a house but her own life.

In a true dom/sub relationship, Francine would probably be happiest.  She could get to live the life she wanted, one where control was given and taken at will, without thought.

Her heart wanted the freedom and security provided by a man who loved her.

In short, she wanted the same thing every other woman wanted and deserved from their partner.

She needed that release. Several years of dealing with overburdening family had ingrained bad habits into her psyche that were hard to break in the confines of normalcy.  Her sister was always begging for money, her parents constantly nagged at her to get a decent job and get out of the sex industry.

If they saw how corporate she’d become up until recently it still wouldn’t make a difference. Her parents were ultra-religious.

Previous boyfriends couldn’t understand her. Nick was the first one to truly get who she was.  Francine needed control, needed to have some freedom in when to exercise it, and then have it ripped away when she’d tried to take advantage of Nick when she grew scared of the emotional bond forming between them.

Nick saw to it that she was restrained often and given everything it could but for her heart it wasn’t enough.  She needed to give more, give deeper.  Nick had never truly allowed her that opportunity due to him being on the road a lot.

The first time they seriously played, Nick had broken through a number of barriers. He’d used her old fear of restraint against her to show his trustworthiness.

Men in the past had often broke her heart with typical I love yous and bullshit like that.

But Nick took her on a journey with rope, one that involved him keeping his word.

That night she’d expunged the fear of restraint. He’d done just what he said he was going to do by simply tying her up with a vibrator buzzing just above her clit.  If she moved, he untied her, walked out of her life.

Buzzing from the toy created a dire desire in her to obey as her body controlled her rather than her mind’s fears.

She yearned for more of that. Boundary pushing broke her, remade her.

With a heavy sigh, Francine propped her feet on her desk and leaned back in her chair.  She sighed, closed her eyes and listened.

The sound of Micah’s pipe lighter clicking echoed between the two offices.  Shortly after, the smell of sweet aromatic smoke wafted past her nose.

She inhaled deeply, breathing the scent of his pipe into her lungs as she imagined him up close, riding her as he should have last night.

A hand slid down the length of her body, over her luscious breasts and abdomen and between her thighs.  She parted her legs and bunched up the skirt so that she could cup her pussy.

A finger dipped inside.

She threw her head back when a second finger pushed past her lips.

“Open your eyes,” a male voice commanded.

~~More Sex Scene Saturday Goodness

Sex Scene Saturday – Menage Bound Excerpt
Sex Scene Saturday – Treasure’s gift

Sex Scene Saturday – The Playground

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Diana DeRicci
Stella Price
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Jessa Slade
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Sex Scene Saturday

It’s that time once again for Sex Scene Saturday!

This time I’m sharing an unedited excerpt from my upcoming 1Night Stand, Menage Bound.

Siddella, a tired corporate executive needs a break from the hectic work life she leads.  She wouldn’t mind if that break came in the form of two hunky dominant males.   Jason and Chase have had trouble finding a woman who could accept them and their penchant for kink.


Grabbing her purse, Siddella pulled out her wallet and slid her ID and a credit card into a back pocket along with the room key.  She hoped it wouldn’t be needed later.

Tossing the bag on the bed, she walked towards the door and stopped in front of the mirror.  She did a complete 360 turn, admiring her curves and the casual yet seductive look she hoped she pulled off.

Then, out the door she went.

Scanning the dense crowd, Siddella spotted two very tall, very handsome gentlemen waiting at a table, cigars in hand.

One stood casually, leaning forward, his broad shoulders filling the space between him and the other man.  Short dark hair curled in a neat cut.   Tanned skin suggested a Latino heritage.  The suit he wore seemed to leave nothing to the imagination and the boots completed the look.

She swore she came right there at the sight of him.

His partner leaned back and looked somewhat tense but he wore it well.  Long blonde hair cascaded down over an equally impressive physique though he appeared to be somewhat smaller in stature.

Sea blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

Neither had seen her yet.  Good.

She could still back out.

Her nipples pocked beneath the shirt and forced the urge to cover up to the front of her mind.

Mentally, she slapped herself.  This could be it.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and strode towards the two men.  Cigar smoke hung over their heads, sweetening the stale Vegas air.


The one with his back turned to her spun around and locked gazes with her.

The blonde’s eyes pinned her in place.  “Hi.  You must be…”

Her tongue snaked out and wet her bottom lip.  The cool air with which both men carried themselves hung in the air like a prominent force.

Power emanated from the blonde.  Control, from the dark haired male.

Realization hit her.

These two were the real deal.

Her mouth suddenly went dry.

Dark haired man extended an arm, slid a chair out from beneath the table.  “You should sit with us.  My name is Jason.  This,” he waved a hand at his partner, “is Chase.”

“I’m Siddella,’ Heat crept up her cheeks.  She had to look up to see how tall both men were even though they sat and commanded their surroundings, rather than the other way around.  She slid into the chair and set her hands on the table.  Jason’s eyes gleamed with intense lust, black eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks.

Chase’s silk shirt complimented the depth of color in his eyes while offsetting the tone of his fair skin.  She liked the look, it soothed her knowing someone else had fair skin like hers.

A waitress came over with two bourbons.  “What will the lady be having?”

“Scotch.”  Siddella couldn’t quite find her voice.

“Very well ma’am.  Neat?”

Two sets of eyes roamed over her body, flustering her further.  Her blood began to boil with arousal.  Liquid flooded her core.  “Yes.  Eighteen year if you have it.”

“Of course.” She trotted away, but not before eyeing the two sitting with Siddella.

“So, Madame Eve’s quite a woman,” Chase spoke first, waving his cigar back.

A brow arched.  “Madame Eve?”

“Yes, she’s the one who picked the three of us for this.”

“Hm,” Siddella received her drink a moment later, picked it up and lifted it in toast, “So she’s responsible for…”

“Exactly,” Jason leaned in.  “She’s a wise woman I understand.  Even if she’s a little…unique.”

Nodding, Siddella took a sip of her scotch.  “I had no idea this service was run by a woman.”

“I’m somewhat familiar with the man who owns this hotel and he tells me in little bits here and there about 1Night Stand.  Not much to say really.  We did the paperwork, submitted it and here we are, a few hours later.”

She whistled, “That was fast.  I did mine earlier.  You know–”

Jason held a hand up.  “Before we all turn into nervous chatterboxes,” he motioned with his cigar at Chase, “Why don’t we toast to this harmonious, potentially euphonious experience, then adjourn to a better local.”

Hand shaking, Siddella brought her glass to the center of the table. “What did you have in mind?”

Chase leaned in, clinking his glass against Jason’s, then against Siddella’s.  “We’ve set up something up in the penthouse suite.”

Siddella managed to swallow the lump in her throat and let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.  The rich scent of cigar smoke, combined with the spiciness from Jason’s bourbon tickled her nose.  She leaned in a little closer, “Sounds fancy,” she held her glass up still, “So shall we toast?”

Chase winked, “A new beginning?”

Jason’s glass knocked gently against Siddella’s, then Chase’s.  “A new relationship.”

Both men seemed a little uncertain about what to toast.  Siddella met Jason’s gaze first, stared deep into those dark depths.  Kindness along with the embers of lust burned in his eyes.

Moving to Chase, she studied him only for a second longer than Jason. Chase’s eyes held a tranquil sway that screamed his desire to be trusted and do the right thing.  Deep passion twinkled in deep sea blue eyes.  She could go with them.  She’d at least be safe.

“Acceptance.  To full acceptance, boys.”

For a second, Jason seemed to hesitate as did Chase.

Then they brought their glasses together in one swift motion, before all three of them took long sips.

Siddella enjoyed the burn of the 18 year old scotch, letting the smoothness coat her tongue the way one of these men’s cocks would in a few minutes.  She hadn’t forgotten the buzzing of her sex, the pulse of her heart throbbing while lust fueled every movement.

Jason and Chase stood in unison.  “Shall we?”  Both men set their glasses down, finished cigars ended up in the ashtray.  They extended a hand to her.

She took them in hers, noting the size difference when they stood.  Both towered over her by a good foot at least. Their hands were huge.

Neither man left doubt in her mind about the size of their cocks when she glanced at their crotches.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She remembered to inhale, exhale.  Then, feeling the warmth from both men encircled her, she followed them like a good little girl out of the casino bar and into the nearest bank of elevators.  Aware of the overwhelming presence of male surrounding her, she couldn’t help but giggle.

“Something the matter, Siddella?  You can back out at any time.”

The tenderness came from Chase.

Back out?  Hell no!  Her body thrummed with so much sexual energy she could probably power the Vegas Strip for at least a week.  She offered an innocent smile.  “I’m good.  Let’s do this.”  Batting her eyelashes, she cocked her head to the side.

Jaosn smirked.  “Do you want a safe word?”

The smart move would be to say yes.  Somehow it wouldn’t be needed.  But…

“Unlike my partner, I’m not asking.  I’m giving you one.  Wine Bottle.  If things get too heavy, you simply say wine bottle.”  Chase didn’t look back.

The air of cool coming from Chase made her knees weak.  “Wine bottle.  Okay.”  At least they were thinking of her safety.  Yeah, they possessed the traits of true dominant males who valued her existence enough to give her a safe word.  She smiled at the gesture.

The elevator dinged. Siddella started forward but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.  She looked back at Jason.

His eyes narrowed.

She let out a sigh.  “Please, after you.”

Jason stepped into the elevator, followed by Chase. Then they turned and with the slightest of movements, acknowledged Siddella, giving her permission to enter.

The material of her shirt began irritating her already hard nipples.  Anticipation drove her wild.  What would these men do to her?

What would start things off?

Only a few more moments would pass before she found out.

~~This is one of those stories I wrote stylistically against my better judgment because I gave insight into Jason and Chase from their POV as well as from Siddella’s.  I hope you’ll enjoy the depth of conflict in this torrid tale of giving love a chance at the hands of sensual kink…

If you like romantic bondage and menage you might like:

Sex Scene Saturday – Treasure’s gift
Sex Scene Saturday – The Playground

Don’t forget our other Sex Scene Authors

Sex Scene Saturday – Treasure’s Gift

A Decadent EDGE story.

When Mark pops in on a work visit to Houston, the lovely and curvaceous Treasure not only plans to make his fantasies come true, but ups the ante by adding an equally delicious friend to the mix. Can Mark resist Treasure’s temptation or will two women double his pleasure?

A little truth time kiddies!  The original story inspiration came from my best friend in high school/middle school.  I’ve lusted after her for years, just her personality.  We talked about it one day and I told her I’d write this story for her.  I felt her proud embarrassment LOL!  But in the deepest, darkest recesses of some sexual minds, fantasies involving threesomes can come to light, and when I put  pen to paper, they definitely will scorch you!

When I reworked this story for Decadent, I switched out my best friend for someone very sensual, to go with the integrity of the story.  EDGE stories aren’t just about pushing boundaries, they’re about the erotic details that make readers beg for more, wanting, craving, yearning.  And the new “inspiration” reminds me of the lovely Oceania, only younger.

Here’s an excerpt:

Mark showered quickly, ignoring his hard-on. He dressed in pajama bottoms and a tank top that showed off arms he’d worked hard in the gym for. Bedtime included a nightcap, a large one designed to knock him out, so he’d sleep without dreaming of her body blanketing his while her pussy milked the life out of him.
One last time he checked the thermostat. Off, damn it. He kicked it on, swearing he’d leave Treasure money for the bill when it came.
He pulled out the chair by the desk against the wall, sat down, and slumped back, head hanging forward. He took a sip of bourbon, let the liquid burn his throat before he took another, longer swig. Straightening, he spotted the now organized stack of papers.
He smiled.
The bedroom door opened. “Mark.” The soft lilting of her voice reignited the spark of arousal.
He set his glass on the desk and waited. “Yes, dear?”
“It’s bedtime. Come to bed.”
She sounded needy. Another man would have missed the subtlety of want in her voice. He didn’t want to ignore her but work beckoned. Yeah, that was the lie he told himself to avoid the nervousness he felt in approaching her. “I have things to do first.”

“Then I’ll come to you.” Her voice dripped with unmistakable, husky lust.
He arched a brow.
A moment later, she appeared wearing a black, see-through teddy that flowed out at the bottom with lace trimming and reached the tops of her thighs. A scrap of lace obscured his view of her sex. Dirty blonde hair fell around her shoulders in loose curls, bouncing with each step she took toward him. Her hands crossed over her chest, she gripped her shoulders and then smoothed fingertips down her arms, over full breasts, and down her rounded stomach, stopping at her hips. Treasure took a tentative step closer, standing mere inches from him. “Well?”
His jaw dropped. He blinked several times to make sure he was seeing right before focusing on her expression.
She frowned. “You think I’m fat. I knew it.”
“No!” He stood and took her hands in his. His stomach tightened from the contact. Blood pumped faster down south, and his mouth went bone dry. “No, that’s not it. It’s just…just…wow, Treasure. I’ve dreamed of this for years.”
“What do you intend to do now?” She tilted her head, and her lips curled into a wicked grin.
His cock throbbed beneath his boxers. Goddamn clothes!
The alcohol fog faded as he focused on her standing before him, looking like an exquisite dessert after an exceptional dinner. He stood, grabbed the back of her head, brought her mouth to his, crushing their lips together. Inhaling deeply, he swept his tongue over her bottom lip, crushing her body to his.
She groaned.
He pressed the length of his cock against her belly and inhaled. She smelled of seduction, peaches, and cream. “I intend to have you, lover.” He devoured her mouth, enjoying her moans while her hands roamed up his back and settled on his shoulders.
She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth away from hers. His neck exposed, she bent her head and pressed her lips to his skin, sucking on the flesh above his collarbone.
Mark groaned, bucking his hips against her. Forcing her thighs apart with one leg, he pushed her down against his thigh, feeling her heat against his skin through the flimsy material of their clothes. “Too many barriers,” he commanded, lifted her teddy off, and threw it aside.
“That was my favorite!”
“And it’s pretty on you. But you look better as you are.” He urged his thigh harder against her pussy.
She tightened her grip around his leg and threw her arms around his neck.
Her sweet valley soaked his thigh with her slickness. “You’re wet for me.” He blinked.
“For years,” she whispered into his ear before her tongue slipped around his earlobe.
Her gesture sent shivers racing down his spine. Mark slid his hands down and captured her hips, digging his fingers into her soft flesh. “Sit.” Spinning her around, he tugged her onto his lap.
Straddling him with her ass pressed against his taut stomach, Treasure giggled.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, he slid his fingers up her belly slowly, inch by inch.
“You really like the way I look?” Doubt laced her voice.
“You’re beautiful, a full figured woman with—” A knock cut him off.
He turned his head toward the front door. Nothing was going to ruin this perfect moment, dammit! “What the hell?”
A wicked grin crossed Treasure’s puckered lips. “That should be Cristina.”
Treasure slid lazily off him, leaving a trail of wetness down his leg, as if marking him. She strode toward the door. “I told you to stop working so hard earlier, didn’t I?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
“And you said ‘make me,’ didn’t you?”
He nodded again, confused still. His dick throbbed, and his fingers itched to continue playing with her.
“So, I used the one weapon I had guaranteed to make you stop for long enough to relax.”

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Other Sex Scene Saturday Authors:

Stella  and Audra Price

Bonne Brux

Jae Lynne Davies

Jenna LeBlanc

Jessa Slade

Stop by their blogs for more sexy fun on a scintillating Saturday!


Sex Scene Saturday – The Playground

Newest Release by Sascha Illyvich, erotic romance author at Decadent Publishing

Sex Scene Saturday, credited to Stella Price et. al. for us to show you a series of blogs featuring the sexiest scenes from our erotic stories!  Mine today comes from The Playground – a 1Night Stand.

Jet setter and playboy Devon has a BDSM dark side he wants to make reality, only catch is the girl who would serve him perfectly left him years ago and is afraid of what living with him means. He’d given up all hope until he’d spotted Shelly waiting tables in the casino he happened to be sitting in. Using the 1NightStand service to find her, he sets her up in a park, and has her bound to some playground equipment with only a blindfold on. Can his Dominance teach her the meaning of true love?


“And now,” he slid a hand beneath the tight fabric of the sports bra, determined to cup her breast, “I intend to dominate differently.”

Shelly swallowed audibly. “What do you mean, differently?”

He glared, narrowing his eyes at her. The headspace he needed wasn’t too far out of reach, but he had to get there and the only way was to force the issue in his mind. He wouldn’t force Shelly; he’d coax and guide her. He hoped she’d come willingly.

Especially after he brought her to another orgasm. He pinched her pussy lips together then spread them apart. “I mean I’m going to pull what you deserve to receive from you.”

“I have nothing to give you but, oh gods!” Her body shook once his fingers slid inside her sopping pussy.

He massaged her clit with his thumb while working his digits in and out. Slowly, methodically, he speared and spread his fingers inside, around her while keeping his thumb on her clitoris.

Before she could open her mouth again, Devon had covered her lips with his.

She gripped his cock, tugging him.

Distracted only slightly, he tore his mouth from hers and moved down her neck until he’d found a breast. The fabric of the sports bra didn’t taste so hot but it didn’t matter. He worked his lips around the taut nipple and pressed his tongue into it while his fingers continued a steady rhythm over her clit, in her pussy.

Shelly’s body tensed beneath his, her nails dug into a hip, tightened around his cock.

He released a slow breath through clenched teeth. Then he nipped her neck, the top of her breast, and worked faster in and out, in and out. Rubbing his thumb around her clit made her jump.

“I love you, Shelly, I always have. I never wanted to control you,” he panted.

Her chest rose and fell with the movements of his hands. Her breath hitched in her throat, “Then why are you trying to do it now?”

“It’s not control.” He moved to her ear, blew in a warm breath before nipping her earlobe. “It’s guidance.”

“To what?”

“Orgasmic bliss.” He sealed his mouth over hers and pressed his thigh between her legs, spreading them wider while continuing his assault on her pussy. “You deserve it, you deserve to be loved, Shelly. And you need guidance.”

“Who,” she sucked in a breath, eyes widened, nostrils flared, “said I need that?”

“You did. When you came to me.” He nipped her shoulder, her arm. Then thrust in a third finger.

She stiffened beneath him, her grip on his cock tightening even more.

How he wanted to drive himself into her hand and come all over her, marking her. He couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t serve a purpose other than his selfish release, and he wasn’t about to start being selfish just because a beautiful woman had his cock in her hand.

Working harder, faster, he felt the second it hit her. The orgasm slammed into her.

She writhed beneath him, flailing against the metal grate they both lay on. He tried to silence her moans with his mouth but it did little good. Shelly was a screamer.

Her vocal abilities during sex always fueled his arousal. Despite his hips thrusting in tune to her body’s movements, he managed to keep himself in check.

It was becoming hard though. Her sensual nature, the sexual deviant in her, called to baser animal natures.

After moments, Shelly had closed her eyes and stopped panting. Her breathing returned to almost normal. She remained pliant beneath him.

He broke the silence, “Can you move?”

“Barely.” The smile that spread across her face couldn’t be stopped.

He caught the attempt to staunch her response in her eyes. “You can’t deny yourself, love.”

“I never tried to.” Her words came out raspy.

He nuzzled her throat and placed tender kisses along the smooth skin of her neck. “Let me show you, you.”

Shelly blinked, slowly moved beneath him. Her fingers still clutched his cock. “What if I just want you to fuck me?”

He exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Closing his eyes, he repeated the gesture and then opened his eyes, holding onto what little sanity he had with her scent in his nose and her hand on him. “Is that really what you want?”

Her mouth twitched. She started to move again, releasing him, but her shorts stopped her.

“I’m still that good.” He couldn’t help but grin.

“You are,” she nodded. “But,” she drew in a breath; let it out slowly, “do you really think you know me that well?”

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Leigh Ellwood

Tina Folsom

Yvette Hines

Stacey Kennedy


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