22 Aug '14

Sex Scene Championship round 25 : Eden Bradley (@EdenBradley ) Vs Lynne Barron (@lynnebarron06 )

Posted in Sex Scene Championship 2014 / 1 Comment

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 Eden Bradley and Lynne Barron

Execerpt One –

Eden Bradley –  Dangerously Inked©

Eden’s  Website | Twitter

He stood and pulled her body close to his, his face going into her hair. He held her tight enough that she could feel the hard bulge beneath his jeans—wanted it. Needed it. Desperate.

“Finn…”

“Yeah, I feel it. I feel your heart beating between those perfect breasts of yours. The heat coming off you.” He wrapped his big hands around her hips and yanked her in tight against him. “Do you feel how I need you, girl?”

“Yes,” she sighed.

He slid a hand over her thigh, then dipped down between them, his fingers slipping under the edge of her thong and into her wet heat.

“Oh!”

“Christ, girl…you’re so damn wet. Ready. Are you ready?” He pressed another finger inside her and she clenched around him. “Oh, yes you are. But are you ready? Now?”

“Get your hand out of my pussy so I can think…” she muttered.

He chuckled, slid his fingers out and used them to tease her hard clit.

She moaned.

“Is this better? Answer me quick or I might have to fuck you right here.”

“Mmm…yes, better.”

He laughed. “Tell me what that means, Roison.”

“It means if you don’t take me into one of the back rooms and fuck me I might come right now.”

He nuzzled her cheek with his. “Oh, I do like you, Roisin.”

“Then fuck me, Sir. Come on.”

He hoisted her over his shoulder like some caveman, and her body went hot and soft all over as he carried through the room. Her hair was in her face, but it didn’t matter. She knew where he was taking her.

When they reached one of the private alcoves he set her down on the high, padded table and pressed down on the space between her breasts hard enough that she knew to stay there, on her back.

Watching him get undressed with desire already simmering at a fever pitch in her system was an erotic experience in itself.

The vest came off first, revealing more muscle, every taut slope and hard surface beautiful to behold. He kicked his way out of his boots and his jeans came next—and she almost cooed in pleasure when she saw he went commando underneath. Then she did gasp softly at the sight of his cock.

Oh, Jesus, save me.

It was huge. Steel-hard and as beautiful as every other muscle in his god-like body. The skin was a pale gold, the head a bit darker, swollen and succulent. He had two large, craggy scars down his left thigh surrounded by heavy tribal tattoo work, another scar over his hip on the same side. She wanted to reach out and smooth her hands over those hurting places. Yet they only made him more impossibly masculine. She wanted to reach out and take that beautiful cock in her mouth just as much, to see if she could manage to swallow it.

“Don’t move, Roison,” he commanded, his jaw tight.

She licked her lips. Her sex clenched. All she could do was lay back and open her thighs.

“Christ, what you do to me, girl.”

He yanked her thong off in a flash and bent between her thighs.

Yes, thank you…please…

He kissed her swollen pussy lips over and over, soft kisses that led to nibbling bites. Desire built inside her, ready to explode at any moment. She had to bite it back, not wanting to come too soon. But when he laid the flat of his tongue on her needy clit and thrust two fingers inside her, she couldn’t help it—she came in a torrent of cries and pleasure, flooding his hand and his mouth. He kept working her as her body spasmed, his fingers curving to hit her G-spot, his mouth sucking at her clit. She came again in mere seconds, pleasure crashing over her like an ocean wave while she panted and groaned.

“Ah, God, Finn…”

“Again,” he ordered.

She wasn’t sure she could…until he forced her thighs wider apart and began to fuck her hard with his fingers while he flicked his tongue at her clitoris—hard, relentless, plunging into her over and over. Pleasure built once more, spiraled even higher for having come twice already.

“Now,” he ordered. And it was that one word that set her off. She came again, her climax ripping into her, making her writhe, pleasure so intense she couldn’t even cry out.

Before she was done he was on her.

“Now,” he said again, his tone rough with need.

She felt the enormous head of his sheathed cock at her opening, and she let her legs fall wide to accommodate him.

“Yes…need you, Finn. Now.”

He raised himself up on his arms, paused while his sparking, blue gaze searched hers. He almost looked as if he were in pain, his expression was so torn with desire, his gaze burning hot.

“Going to fuck you through the wall now, girl,” he told her, demanding that she take it with his tone.

“Yes, Sir.”

He held her arms over her head with one strong hand and slung his hips, burying his cock inside her.

Copyright 2013, Eden Bradley

Excerpt Two –   

Widow’s Wicked Wish – Lynne Barron ©

Lynne’s Website |  Twitter

The Countess of Palmerton had finally reached the end of her tether. Seething with rage, burning with a lust so powerful she’d been forced to flit about the room in order to refrain from grabbing Jack Bentley and wrestling him to the ground, Olivia did the only thing a lady can do when backed into a corner.

Tightening her hold on Jack’s lapels, she rose onto her toes until they were nearly eye to eye.

“Either put your cock inside me this instant or get out of my way,” she demanded.

Olivia didn’t give him time to make a choice. Snaking one hand around his neck, she fisted her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers.

Jack groaned, whether in shock or passion Olivia didn’t know nor did she care. She simply took advantage of the opportunity, spearing her tongue into his mouth, dragging over his, circling, dipping, sweeping over the hard ridge of his teeth, along the soft flesh of his lower lip, rediscovering his wet, hot mouth.

Then she bit him. Hard enough to drag another groan from deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against her breasts that were suddenly crushed against him as his arms wound around her and his hands grasped her bottom. He lifted her off her feet and slammed her none too gently against the wall.

Olivia moaned into his mouth, the sound dark, desperate, a mirror to the desire roaring in her veins. She lifted her arms to his shoulders and curled them around his head, her fingers clutching in his hair, holding on to him, holding him to her.

Jack took control of the kiss, his mouth ravenous upon hers. He tilted his head, changed the angle of their mouths, sealed them together and thrust his tongue against hers, around, above, beneath, his tongue scoured her sensitive flesh.

In the next instant, Jack’s hands were twisted in her skirts and Olivia felt the air on her calves, her knees, her thighs. Taking advantage of this new freedom, she wrapped her legs around his hips and locked her ankles, pulling him tight against her. His cock was hard, unbelievably, gloriously hard. She tilted her hips, pressed her mound against his rigid length and cried out as pleasure and need mingled, swirled, overwhelmed her.

Jack squeezed her bottom, held her tight as he thrust against her. He dragged his shaft over her sensitive flesh, again and again, setting up a tempo that had Olivia panting into his mouth, writhing against him in an effort to get closer, to ease the ache that he’d created, that only he could satisfy.

Olivia was nearly mindless with the need to have him inside her. If she could have formed a thought, a word, she might have shrieked her desperation aloud. Instead she released the death grip she had on his head and wedged her hands between them. Down over his broad chest, still fully covered in shirt, waistcoat and jacket, to the placket of his trousers. With clumsy fingers, she jerked at the buttons until they finally, finally came free and his cock sprang into her hands.

Jack groaned, his hips bucking, his shaft gliding through her hands.

Then his hand was fumbling in the yards of fabric bunched around her waist and hips, delving through the mass to land hot and hard between her legs. He hooked two fingers through the slit in her drawers and yanked.

The sound of rending cloth was music to Olivia’s ears, the feel of his calloused fingers dragging over her folds the sweetest pleasure, the most agonizing torture.

Without warning those two long fingers drove into her, the force of his invasion pinning her against the wall.

He thrust his fingers into her cunny, over and over again.

Olivia tightened her grip on his cock, matching her strokes to his.

It was wondrous, glorious, amazing.

It wasn’t enough.

Before she could voice her thoughts, before she could demand, beg, plead with Jack to give her what she needed, his fingers left her body and he shifted her, lifted her. Olivia guided his cock to her quim, locked her ankles tight against his lower back, and pulled him into her body, moaning into his mouth as the thick head penetrated her, stretched her.

And all the while he kissed her as if he could not get enough of her, as if he would never stop. With lips caressing, tongue thrusting, teeth nipping, he consumed her.

“Christ, Livy,” he growled into her mouth.

“Take me, Jack,” she begged. “Now, damn you…”

Her words left her on a long, savage moan as he thrust his cock into her. In one long, hard lunge he was buried in her body, so deep inside her that light danced behind her closed eyelids as pleasure and pain mingled to create a vortex of swirling sensations.

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This is an EVENT giveaway and prizes will be drawn at the end of the event after all the entrants have been collated into one raffle.

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