05 Aug '13

Sex Scene Championship Round Five : Debra Mullins Vs Tessa Bailey

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Excerpt One 
Debra Mullins : Prodigal Son

She would have been killed.

Her lungs heaved against rising sobs. Her eyes stung as the full import slammed over her. She’d nearly died. He’d tried to tell her. She’d argued, so sure she was right. So sure he was crazy. She squeezed her eyes shut and struggled for breath, laboring beneath the onslaught of emotion and the weight of the male body sprawled over her as smoke drifted to them on the breeze. .
.
He shifted. A warm palm cupped her cheek. .
.
She opened her eyes to see Rafe’s face inches above hers. His skin pulled taut across his cheekbones, his austere expression foreign, almost ruthless. And his eyes—those flat, black eyes. She’d expected to see nothing there, yet they burned with hot emotion, stripped down and basic. .
.
She knew how he felt, coming so close to death. When he took her mouth in a hard, hungry kiss, she melted into him, eager. They were alive. By some miracle, they were alive. She shoved aside all the questions and just gave herself up to the heady joy of blood pumping through her veins and the long, lean length of hot-blooded male pressing her into the gritty sand—to the primitive instinct to perpetuate life in the face of death. .
.
Demanding hands shoved her shirt up. Greedy fingers closed around her breast, curling into her bra cup and trying to pull it free. The fully aroused length of him pressed against her thigh through his jeans. His kiss roughened, becoming more insistent, more carnal. .
.
Holy Hannah, he wanted to do it right here in the middle of nowhere. And with the shock of near death vibrating through her body, she realized that she wanted it, too. .
.
She ripped her mouth away, arching her head back and sucking in air. He nipped at her neck, at the same time finally succeeding in scooping her breast out of her bra cup. He pinched her nipple, rolled it between his fingers. Hot pleasure jolted between her legs. He sucked on the flesh of her throat, ripping a moan from her. .
.
She squirmed beneath him, arching her back, wrapping her arms around him. He knew just where to touch her, how to touch her. She shoved her hands under his shirt, sweeping them down to his waist, to his belt. But he grabbed her hands and yanked them away, trapping them on either side of her head with a primitive growl that ignited her juices as he rose over her. .
.
He met her gaze, his still black and burning with a lust that made her quiver. No man had ever looked at her like that. Never. She should make him stop. But he was Rafe, her lover—and he wasn’t. But he was. The riddle scrambled her thoughts. She should protest. She should beg him to take her. It was right. It was wrong. It was— .
.
He released one of her hands and jerked down the zipper of her shorts.


Excerpt Two 
Tessa Bailey : His Risk to Take

“You’re wearing my underwear.”

Ruby felt a flush creep up her neck but quickly crushed any embarrassment. “So what?”

Troy slid his hand down the flat of her stomach to disappear inside the briefs with painstaking slowness, as if he wanted to savor every touch of her skin. He cupped her in his palm, then pushed her forward with his body until the juncture of her thighs was wedged more firmly between his hand and the table.

His voice vibrated sensually near her ear. “Do you have any idea how much it turns me on, knowing something of mine has been cradling your sweet pussy all day long?” Without warning, he thrust two thick fingers inside her with just enough force to make her cry out, bring her up on her toes. He didn’t move them, just held them there, high and tight inside her. Ruby’s head fell forward on a moan that was equal parts frustrated and relieved. She needed so much more for him, and he seemed determined to take his time. “You walked around with your naughty secret all day, didn’t you? Did the thought of me get you all wet, baby?” His thrust his fingers deeper. “Answer me or you’ll get no more.”

“Yes! I got very wet.”

He rewarded her honest answer by stroking her clitoris with his thumb. “Fuck my fingers until I’m satisfied with your answers. What happens next depends on how happy they make me.” With his hand still trapped between her and the table, she began pumping her hips against the solid pressure of his fingers, whimpering as his thumb continued its unyielding assault. “What did you think about in class, Ruby?” She released an impatient sob. “Answer me, or I’ll remove by thumb.”

“No. Please, don’t.” She sucked in a shaky breath, trying to divide her focus between talking and his insistent torture of her damp, needy flesh. “I thought about w-what would’ve happened if I’d stayed the whole night.”

“Should I show you?” he growled.

“Yes.”

In the blink of an eye, he removed the hand between her legs and spun her around to face him. Her backside hit the surface of the table hard, and he pushed her legs open forcefully. Troy deftly rolled on the condom, and drove himself home inside her in one powerful thrust. Ruby’s scream mingled with his shouted expletive. Before she’d fully registered his ample size filling her so completely, he began to move. He rolled his hips down at an angle, his swollen length making contact with her clitoris with each frantic pound into her.

Troy sunk his fingers into her hair and tilted her head back up until she looked him square in the eye. “As long as you’re with me, I don’t want some punk thinking he has the right to touch your gorgeous face. If you want to be touched, you tell me where, and I’ll take care of it. I’m the only one who touches you now, Ruby. Me.”


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