Wilde Novellas

By: Janelle Dennison

Oh, yes, she liked. Her whole body felt alive, heavy and hot, pulling tight and aching for him. Between her legs she could feel her own slick moisture, and the steady, growing throb that preluded an orgasm.

“I also like to be in control during sex, and dominant. Even a bit aggressive. Does that bother you?”

She dampened her bottom lip with her tongue, briefly wondering if his dominant act was solely for the purpose of the fantasy, or if he always liked being in control with women. “No, that doesn’t bother me.” Oh, God, his aggression excited her.

He released her hair, set her brush on the dresser, and turned her around to face him. Tucking a finger beneath her chin, he lifted her gaze to his. She glimpsed the hot fire in his eyes, could sense his barely suppressed restraint, and felt singed by the intimate connection between them.

“I want you to know that I would never hurt you,” he said, his tone low and reassuring. “Ever. Do you believe me?”

She trusted him and his promise. “Yes.”

He nodded succinctly, seemingly satisfied with her answer. “This is all about fulfilling fantasies and desires, playful or dark, but if I get too rough or go too far, all you have to say is stop, and I will.”

She didn’t miss the underlying warning that he would get sexually demanding with her. Dominant. She swallowed hard, the possibilities arousing her. Oh, Lord, was she really going to go through with this wild, imaginative idea of his?

“Even right now, the choice is yours,” he murmured, letting his fingers drift away from her face. “To end the fantasy, all you have to do is tell me to go. To continue the fantasy, issue me an invitation to stay.”

Struggling with those personal ethics of hers playing tug-of-war with the simple words, stay or go, she attempted to take a step back from him. But in a move she couldn’t have anticipated he pressed her up against the wall next to the dresser. Flattening his hands on either side of her shoulders, he leaned into her, aligning their stomachs and thighs. He nudged his rock-hard erection against her mound, and applied a delicious pressure that heightened the need clawing at her.


His eyes glittered like burnished sapphires, and his jaw clenched tight, making him appear as dark and dangerous as the phantom lover he claimed to be. His hands dropped to her waist and slid possessively over her hips, then slipped around to grab her ass. He lifted her up onto her toes, angled her pelvis, and slowly, sensuously, ground his straining shaft against the swollen folds of her sex.

“I want to fuck you,” he growled, his words as explicit and rough as the friction of his coarse jeans rubbing against the wet, slick silk of her panties. “With my fingers, my tongue, my cock. Slow and deep, hard and fast… and every way there is.”

Her stomach muscles clenched in a forbidden kind of thrill, and her head rolled back against the wall in complete surrender. Oh, yes, please.

He buried his face against her neck, and as if he had a direct link to her mind and thoughts, he released her bottom and pushed the straps of her gown off her shoulders and down her arms. The fabric slithered to the ground, leaving her bare except for her panties.

He eased back, quickly yanked his shirt over his head, and tossed the garment to the floor. Her breath hitched at the sight of his wide chest, defined by gorgeous male contours and warm tan skin she tested with her splayed palms. He dipped his head again, his damp lips sliding down her throat, and his hands finding and kneading her full breasts. His calloused thumbs raked over her puckered nipples, and then his hot, wet mouth was there, his tongue flicking over the rigid tips, his teeth nibbling the taut swells of her breasts before he suckled her, hard and strong. With each deep, suctioning pull of his mouth, scorching waves of desire rolled through her.

The pleasure was so acute, so intense, she cried out, her body pulsing for the release she’d denied herself earlier. Twisting her fingers into his thick hair, she arched into him to get closer, so beyond rational thought that she couldn’t hold back the begging sounds escaping the back of her throat.

His hand slid from her breast down her torso, heating her flesh everywhere he touched. Kneeing her legs apart, he grasped the side of her panties, and with a fierce tug he ripped the insubstantial scrap of fabric right off her hips. She gasped, both shocked and inflamed by his primitive behavior.

Abruptly lifting his head from her breasts, he slanted his mouth across hers and parted her lips with the persuasive pressure of his own. He kissed her forcefully, plundering her mouth with his tongue at the same time his palm fastened over her mound and his long fingers slipped between her slick folds and penetrated her lush, weeping sex. He buried the pad of his thumb against her clitoris, expertly finessed that hard, sensitive nub of flesh, then stopped just as she was poised on the brink of a shattering climax.

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