19 Aug '14

Sex Scene Championship Round 19 : Gail Bridges vs Kacey Hammell

Posted in Sex Scene Championship 2014 / 3 Comments

Hello everybody and welcome to our Sex Scene knockout Championship!

The guise is simple; vote for your favourite out of the two scenes and the winning author will progress to the next round and be in with a chance to win the Sex Scene Championship Crown. Each person will be in with a chance of winning prizes from our prize bag. At the end of the event, all of the entrants will be collated and then I’ll use random generator to pick a top winner (who will get their choice of 8 prizes from the prize bag limited to one GC), a second place winner (who will get their choice of 5 prizes from the prize bag limited to one GC) and a third place winner (who will get their choice of 3 prizes limited to one GC). I will then randomly draw names until all the prizes are gone.

You have to vote through the rafflecopter form for your vote to count. You can do this using FB or an email address … none of these are visible to anyone but me and I will not use them. 

We have 50 eBooks to giveaway (some of which are listed on the Intro post here), 2 signed paperbacks, 2 INT paperbacks, 4 Gift Cards (Amazon & All Romance, a necklace, some pens and more swag to give away.

So for our next round we have Gail Bridges vs Kacey Hammell

Execerpt One –

Gail Bridges – Over the Edge ©

Gail’s  Website | Twitter

We were about to make love. I could feel it.

I jumped. A Moroccan pillow, then another, and then several more, rained down into the Secret Garden—with me batting them away—and then Gage climbed down the ladder. Slung over his shoulder was a large bag containing two flashlights, two blankets, a bottle of red wine (but no glasses), and four chocolate squares, all of which he put onto the table in front of me, as if they were gifts.

There was more. He pulled a handful of foil-wrapped condoms out of his pocket and set them on the table. I looked up at his lopsided grin and raised eyebrows. His lips formed my name, a question without words.

“Yes,” was all I said.

“Me too,” he said. “It’s yes for me too.”

We smiled at each other over those condoms.

Kicking off our shoes, we lowered ourselves to sit side by side on the blankets, our legs outstretched, our backs against the wall. I moved an ostrich feather fan to the side so it wouldn’t dig into my back.

He took my hand. He leaned over and kissed me. A single kiss, a promise, nothing more. It was up to me to make the next move.

“Gage,” I said. “You need to answer my questions. Before we do anything else.”

He touched my cheek, ran his finger from the corner of my eye down to the turn of my chin, then tucked a wayward lock of hair behind my ear. It was perhaps the single most tender thing any lover had ever done for me. “I owe you answers,” he said softly, “I know I do. It’s time now. Ask away.”

I squeezed his hand. I scooted closer to him, so that we were hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. He put his arm around me. I put my right foot over his. We sat like that for another long moment, drinking each other in.

“Is it real?” I asked. “The magic?”

“Yes.”

“Are you—” I coughed. “—a magician? A sorcerer? A male witch?” I coughed again.

“No. None of those things. I’m just me. Gage.”

“Gilgamesh, you mean.”

A slight smile played on his lips. “Yes. Gilgamesh.”

“That’s not an everyday name.”

“Where I come from, it is.”

I’d ask about that later. “But—how? How do you know magic?”

He looked up at the skylight. “…And this is the part I’m not supposed to share.”

“But you’re going to anyway. Right?”

“Of course I am, even though it could get me in all kinds of trouble. Both of us. At the very least we’d be kicked out of the Institute. Probably much worse. We could get thrown over the edge. What we’re doing is dangerous, Dahlia.”

“I know,” I said, but I didn’t really. What did that mean—thrown over the edge? It sounded ominous. I was about to ask, but he was speaking again. And he sounded more serious than I’d ever heard him sound. His voice was low, troubled.

“Dahlia, you don’t know. We can’t go back once we start down this road.”

“My mother once said the same words to me…about sex.”

He just looked at me.

“I’m serious. She did.”

He squeezed my hand. “What we’re doing is a lot more dangerous than sex. Believe me. We have to be careful. And I’m not talking about birth control.”

I did believe him. How could I not? Almost from the moment I’d set foot inside the door, without even meaning to, I’d tapped into some very frightening undercurrents at the Institute, even if I didn’t have a clear memory of them. But Gage was undermining his own words in a most disconcerting way because he was playing footsies with me. As he spoke, his bare toes—when had he taken off his socks?—rubbed on my ankles, massaged the tops of my feet, explored my calves. Who knew footsies could be so intimate?

Oh! His touch, his touch! How could I wait? But I had to find out more.

Excerpt Two –  

Illusions by Kacey Hammell ©

Kacey’s Website |  Twitter

Feeling his hands on her, his mouth taking hers, Isabella shivered. His tongue played with hers. His hands palmed her ass cheeks, bringing her hot center into contact with his jean-clad cock. She’d go over the edge in seconds if he kept it up.

Breaking free of his kiss, she craned her neck back to accommodate his exploring mouth and grasped the shoulders of his jacket, relishing for a moment in the smell of leather and hot man. Pushing the jacket off his shoulders in a hurry, her body shook at the precipice of release.

“Brady,” she breathlessly moaned. “Off…want the clothes off now. Please.”

“Bella…Christ, okay…all right.”

He moved a mere half an inch, it seemed. His torso pressed her into the bathroom door as he shook his arms, freeing himself of his jacket, and letting it fall to the floor.

Helpless to keep her hands still, Isabella ran them over his glorious chest, his abs, and made quick work of the button fly hiding his erection from her.

Dipping his head, he caught her mouth with his again, making her moan and her heart quicken.

Hands clawed at hands and the waistband of his pants, as both tried to shed his jeans in a hurry. He took a breath and looked at her, dark gray eyes smoldered. The passion and desire in his gaze made her breath hitch.

He leaned down to pull his jeans off his legs and feet and placed a barrage of kisses against her stomach. Her muscles quivered and her pussy clenched tighter, letting her know she was too close to allow him play time.

“Brady….” His name on her lips died on a moan as he took her right nipple into his warm, moist mouth, drawing it in until it was a tight bead.

Pulling his face up to hers, she breathlessly mumbled between kisses. “No time for this. I’m ready. I can’t take more. Fuck foreplay.” He moaned against her mouth. He wanted this as much as she did. “Just fuck me.”

Moving back away from her, he stared at her. His gaze unwavering. “You sure you want it now? No playing first?”

Isabella’s mind drifted to the first time they’d had sex, when his size had caused her a lot of pain from being sexually inactive for more than two years. In the couple months of being together two or three times a week, she had gotten used to his thickness and length, and always willing for more. A bit of pain at the beginning always turned to more pleasure than she thought she could bear.

Their first night together played in her mind another moment, but she banished the thoughts because of the pain Brady had been in the night he returned from New Mexico.

Focusing on him again, she reached down and grasped his cock in her hand. As she glided up and down his erection, he arched his back, forcing his hips into her hand more and more as she pumped him. A trickle of her juices slid between her thighs.

Leaning her torso forward, she licked his neck while still pumping him in her hand, eliciting a guttural moan from deep within his chest. She basked in the joy of his reactions to her.

She placed both hands on his shoulders and pulled him toward her. Chest against chest, mouth to mouth, toe to toe, she put everything she felt into their kiss, their embrace. She wanted him to know she wanted him, wanted everything he had to give. Rough, soft, hard, up against the wall. She wanted all of him.

His hands grasped her waist. He read her message clearly, and he lifted her and placed her thighs on either side of his own.

Breaking their kiss too soon for her, he pulled his head back and looked down at her body spread over his. Her shoulders against the door, lower back arched and pelvis angled over his awaiting cock, she probably looked like a wanton woman ready to fuck…hard and furiously.

“Look at yourself, Bella,” he said huskily. As he looked up at her with those intense, dark eyes, his words held her equally as captive. “Beautiful. I don’t think I’ll ever forget this image. You spread open, waiting, chest heaving. I need to be inside you. Buried to the hilt. Connected to you.”

Her body clenched at his words, desire as never before building within her. She couldn’t believe the words he had spoken. Her heart literally miss a beat, but refused to dwell on it. She wanted him. Now.

“Take me. Hur—Brady!” She screamed his name as he entered her.

The twinge of pain barely registered while her body accommodated his length and girth. Pleasure soon followed, causing her to arch her back and lift both hands, running them through his smooth mane. As he moved steadily in and out of her, she savored the feel of him pounding into her. She wanted him to lose control and let loose. It was one of the things she loved most about sex with him. When he let down the tight control he always kept in check, he was a relentless lover, never stopping until she was a pile of mush.

“Oh God, Bella.” The passion and shock in his voice made her smile. She loved his reactions to her and wouldn’t hold out too much longer. “You feel so fucking amazing. Wet, throbbing, shit….”

As he slowed the pace, she moved her hands from his head, reached up and grasped the top of the bathroom door. Palms flat against the door, fingertips curled over the jamb, she hung on for the ride of her life. Arching her back and tightening her inner muscles even more, she took control, moving her hips frantically over his.

“Dammit, Bella! Slow down. Christ…fuck!”

She would have laughed at his frustrated tone, but she didn’t want to lose her pace. She moved her hips harder and faster over him, the precipice just on the horizon.

“Don’t stop. I love riding your long, rigid cock. Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” She watched his eyes close, his neck bow, and the veins raised there showed his iron-willed control. She wanted more, dammit, and she would have it all.

“Look at me, Brady. Look at me.” When he opened his eyes, it was all she could do not to come right then. The fire in his eyes, the look of herself she could see reflected, made her more frantic to prolong the moment. She was desperate to keep riding his cock, not wanting the feeling to end.

Desperately gasping for air, he placed one hand over one of hers on the top of the door and one on the doorjamb. She could hear his hitched breaths and picked up the pace. “Watch me while you come, Brady. Come inside me, hard.”

Moving her hips faster, holding his fiery, stormy gaze with her own, Isabella pounded her pussy over his cock, taking in every moan and flare in his eyes. Her muscles clenched and his cock grew even thicker inside her. She couldn’t hold back any longer.

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