I hope you've reached the right place, and I hope that you're over eighteen. This website is for adults only. No, I don't sell adult toys or videos or anything like that, this isn't a porn site. But it is the site of an erotic romance writer.
If you're looking for a steamy read, long, short or in between, where the characters are all over each other, get down and dirty, than I can guarantee that you will find something here. I'm going to level with you, my erotic romances are explicit and graphic in nature, but they all have happily forever or happily for now endings.
Enter at your own risk!
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Monday, October 24, 2016
About Threesome Bonds
Genre: Erotic Romance, Contemporary Romance, Ménage à Trois
Other books by Sienna Matthews
It's no hardship being stranded with two gorgeous guys...
When opportunity comes, grab it. Or them.
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One set of the Threesome series
by Sienna Matthews
About Sienna Matthews
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Saturday, October 22, 2016
Friday, October 21, 2016
“No!” Angel cried out, struggling wildly against him. But she was no match for his superior strength and the honed muscles she felt beneath her hands. In no time his hands had wrapped around her wrists, and she was pinned against the stairs.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded, his face too close to hers.
“Who the hell are you?” Angel demanded right back, twisting beneath him. It was then she felt cool air in places that she shouldn’t, reminding her that all she had on was a thin night-shirt and a pair of bikini panties. Judging by the super hard pecks she felt pressed against her breasts, her shirt had come undone, too. An insane thought crossed her mind, why he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She wiggled wildly, unintentionally scraping her nipples across his flesh.
“Stop before you get hurt!” he growled. In an effort to subdue her he pressed his body against hers.
“Then get off me!” Angel hissed, arching her body in an effort to throw him off her. His muscled thighs and powerful legs flexed against hers, easily holding hers still.
“Not until you tell me who you are,” he grated in a rough voice.
His warm breath slapped her in the face. “I live here,” Angel said without hesitation, glaring up into his shadowed face. She was aware there was no way he could see her because it was too dark.
“The hell you do.”
How did he know that? “The police are on their way so I suggest you let me up and get out of here.” Her energy was beginning to wane. He was too strong and big, and the longer they remained like that, the more she began to feel uncomfortable with their intimate proximity.
“Good. Then we can get to the bottom of this.”
That wasn’t the kind of response an intruder would make if he were caught in someone else’s house. Maybe he was delusional or something. Angel decided to switch tactics. “These stairs are hurting me,” she said weakly.
Things grew still between them and she sensed his silent contemplation, as if he were wondering if he should believe her. She whimpered a little for good measure.
“Okay, I’m going to let you up, but don’t try anything stupid,” he warned.
The second he released her and lifted off her body, Angel got to her feet and dashed the rest of the way up the stairs.
“Son of a bitch!” he cursed behind her.
Angel slammed and locked her bedroom door in his face. She didn’t know what she hoped to accomplish, except to get away from him until the police arrived. What was taking them so long? She ran to one of the windows and opened it. Maybe she could push out a screen and—
Without warning her bedroom door was kicked in. She screamed and made a beeline for her connecting bathroom.
“Oh, no, you don’t.”
A muscular arm wrapped around Angel’s waist and she was lifted off her feet. “Let me go!” She wiggled and kicked, very much aware that her butt was against a very intimate part of his body. Burning heat replaced the fear flowing through her blood because his cock wasn’t as flaccid as it should have been.
“Look,” he slammed her down onto the bed and for the second time she found herself pinned beneath his superior strength. “Before this goes any further I think we need to talk.”
“You can talk to the police,” she panted, twisting beneath him.
“I intend to,” he said without hesitation. There was a confidence in his tone that surprised her.
Without warning he reached up and turned on the reading light at the head of the bed. How did he know that was there? Meeting eyes the color of blue topaz, everything in Angel froze, including her breath. Oh God, I know those eyes!
Bishop had come home!
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Picture Imperfect: A Sassy Suspense by Cindy Procter-King!
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About Picture Imperfect
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or a $5 Amazon Gift Card
Get a copy of Picture Imperfect now at a special price of $2.99.
(Regular Price: $4.99)
Hurry! This offer is valid until this Friday, October 21, 2016 only.
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About Cindy Procter-King
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
Thanks so much for having me over, Tory. It’s a pleasure to be able to celebrate the launch of The Tutor with you and your readers. Today, I’d like to talk a little bit about intimacy.
“Intimacy is a process – not a thing. It takes place over time and is not stagnant.” This is a quote from a great article on intimacy I found on the University of Florida’s Counseling and Wellness Center site.
If two people who are attracted to each other can’t actually touch, can they still find a way to be intimate? What exactly is intimacy, and is it really dependent on being able to touch each other? I wanted to explore the elements of intimacy in my novel, The Tutor. I’m very lucky to live in a relationship with lots of touching. In fact, it’s a good bet if my husband and I are in the same room, we’ll be touching – holding hands, playing footsies beneath the table, even just catching each other’s eye across the room when we’re not close enough to physically touch. But what would that intimacy look like if we could no longer have physical contact? How much of what binds us to someone and what makes us close depends on being able to physically touch? Alexander ‘Lex’ Valentine and Kelly Blake must find their way to each other without touch. Can they do it? That was the basic premise for the novel – the journey to intimacy, and what it would look like when one of the perspective couple is severely haphephobic and has lived without human touch for the better part of his life.
As the story evolved, I found myself wondering if maybe being a little less dependent on the touch of our lover might just allow us a deeper, more well-rounded intimacy.
According to the article from the University of Florida page, intimacy is a process, and that became very clear to me as the strange relationship between Lex and Kelly grew and changed. When the chemistry between two people is right and it strikes a spark, if a relationship is to develop, a journey to intimacy follows, and that journey is a complicated one when those two people can’t touch each other.
The article talks about four types of intimacy. The first being cognitive or intellectual intimacy – the sharing of thoughts and ideas. Clearly this is the perfect place for Lex and Kelly’s journey to begin, since it’s safe for Lex, and it allows them both a chance to get acquainted.
The second level is experiential, as the two set about finding ways for Lex to experience something as close to physical intimacy as possible. This level can only happen because of the communication that has taken place in cognitive stage.
The experiential part of their journey evolves to emotional intimacy and a place in which the two are comfortable sharing dreams and fears and feelings, in a place of empathy. This is a level at which they can begin to understand each other more deeply.
Of course the last level is sexual, which is most often the way the world defines intimacy – especially in a romantic situation. And as The Tutor evolved and developed, I found myself wondering how often we sabotage our own intimate relationships by getting the final stage before the first three, or even by getting stuck in that final stage. In The Tutor, the progression was a natural one – though the sexual attraction was there from the beginning. That meant by the time Lex and Kelly reached the sexual level, they were intimate in more ways than I would have imagined possible when I first started the novel.
What also became clear is just how much each of those forms of intimacy are linked, and how they all evolve and deepen over time with the growth of the relationship.
But when physical touch isn’t possible, even sexual intimacy has to be very creative, and who is better equipped to be sexually creative than a writer and a sculptor? Below is an excerpt with an example of intimacy that has nothing to do with touch and yet everything to do with touch.
When physical touch is impossible, intimacy may become a powerful work of art or a devastating nightmare—but, above all, it’s an act of trust.
The Tutor Blurb:
He laughed softly. “How the hell would I know?”
“Well,” she stretched out on the countertop and rolled onto her side, resting her head on her hand. “you just have to try them out and see how they fit your mouth.”
“Good point,” she said.
“Not quite, but getting there fast, thank you.” Again, they both laughed, a strangely relaxed laugh under the bizarre circumstances.
“The thing is,” she said, rolling onto her back and staring up at the long rack of copper bottom pans above her head, “words are often as important in sex, and as erotic, as touch. I write in my other life, and I find that while some of my characters get turned on by waxing poetic between the sheets, others get hot by talking dirty.”
“How does your cunt feel when some fucker talks dirty to you,” he said, though not without a hearty blush.
“That would depend on the fucker and the circumstances and how badly I wanted to ride his cock.”
“And if it was a fucker whose cock you really wanted to ride, a fucker who was hard and heavy for you? What words would he use, and what response would he elicit?
“You mean like how lovely your breasts are when your nipples are so taut that even your areola are visible through that shirt, which I imagine feels like a caress every time you inhale. You mean like the way your lips are parted and moist. You’ve not completely shut your mouth for the past five minutes, the way you rock your hips, almost but not quite secretly, and grind you bottom against the countertop. Is that what you mean?”
“Jesus! We shouldn’t be doing this.” She sat bolt upright on the surface and then froze as though someone had hit the pause button. “Alex?”
The man perched on the edge of the counter, just far enough away that she couldn’t easily touch him. He had kicked his shoes off and his own nipples peaked to bullet points through his white polo shirt. That would have been enough to hold her attention indefinitely had it not been for the heel of his hand stroking the very obvious, very anxious erection through his jeans.
It was all right. It was fine, she told herself. She’d had more than a few occasions where her job involved watching and coaching someone while they masturbated. This was just her job. That’s all.
She moved to the edge of the counter giving him space, then motioned him onto it and she opened her leg. “If I weren’t wearing trousers, if you could see my panties, you’d know that I’m wet.” She nodded to his erection. “You’d know that the thought of what you’re doing, the sight of how your body is responding to mine, is making me wetter.” She cupped her breasts in turn, through the white blouse. “Every part of me feels heavy, Alex. My breasts feel like my bra can no longer contain them. My nipples ache. And my lips,” she touched her mouth, and then, holding his gaze, moved her hand down to rest on the crotch of her trousers. “My lips are swollen, so swollen and slippery and ready to be penetrated.” She nodded first to his mouth and then to his erection. “Do I want the fucker to give it to me hard and deep in my cunt? What do you think?”
“Oh God,” he managed. Then he stopped talking altogether. His breath came in tight little grunts and gasps as he moved against his hand, holding her in his gaze as surely as if he held her in his embrace; and it was in that instant, the instant she slid her hand down the front of her trousers and into her panties an action he mirrored, that she knew neither of them would make it out of here intact. She wanted to run, but she didn’t. She wanted to take off her clothes and feel his gaze all over her body, but she didn’t. She wanted to demand that he strip for her, that he come just for her eyes, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. She could only cup and grope her breasts until they hurt. She could only stroke herself while she watched him do the same.
The space around them crackled with their energy, and their desperate efforts to breathe were the only sounds beyond the stroke of skin against fabric. In a hungry attempt at relief, they both rocked and bucked, mirror images of each other with one hand down the front of their trousers while the other groped and cupped and tweaked and pinched whatever part of their anatomy it came in contact with. Then breathing stopped, time stopped. Everything around them disappeared until they saw nothing but each other, locked in each other’s gaze, more physical than any embrace Kelly had ever felt, and it was enough. Heaven help them, it was enough. He came first by a split second, roaring like a wounded lion, arching back until she feared he’d either break his neck or fall off the counter. But the sight of him so vulnerable in his passion, the fact that even in his release, he kept his eyes on her was all she could handle, and she convulsed against her own hand, convulsed as though she would break apart, never taking her eyes off him, never breaking that connection.
Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?
KD has erotica published with Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Sweetmeats Press and others.
K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, To Rome with Lust, and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.
K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, The Exhibition, Interviewing Wade are all available.
Find K D Here: