Sex Scene Championship Part 2 Round 15 : Kimber Vale ( @KimberVale) vs Samanthe Beck ( @SamantheBeck1 )

Posted September 2, 2014 by Nix 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 Kimber Vale vs Samanthe Beck

Execerpt One –

Kimber Vale –  Hard Act to Follow ©

Kimber’s  Website | Twitter

“Leave ’em on.” Reaching around the back, Greg yanked the thong to the side, scooted forward, and lined Kyrie’s hole up with his dick.

Kyrie hadn’t gotten a chance to warm up, but managed to expel a deep breath and bear down as Greg impaled him in one swift motion. He grunted, grabbed Greg’s face between both hands, and planted his ass against his jean-covered legs. “Slow for a sec.”

Their mouths meshed, open and wet, as Kyrie began to raise and lower himself on Greg’s cock. He willed his muscles to relax until the burn became a pulsing need behind his balls. Greg’s zipper rasped against the back of Kyrie’s thigh, but the quick stab only reminded him that Greg was fucking him completely clothed but for his pecker pulled out of his fly. Something about it was deliciously dirty, matching the way his outfit made him feel. “Yeah. Now fuck me hard.” Holding his body up so Greg could pound into him, Kyrie leaned back and grabbed his heels, partly because he could, and partly because it felt like letting go. Greg’s hands, rock steady, held his hips. Closing his eyes, it was as if Kyrie was free falling while every second down added pleasure on top of pleasure. Building and burning, spinning him into oblivion. Greg’s cockhead hammered his gland perfectly at this angle. It dominated every nerve in his body until he could barely breathe.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” Greg panted, pumping hard.

The liquid hot friction consumed Kyrie, beating a pulse in his bound dick. Electric shocks of need, hungry and insistent, pierced through him each time Greg seemed to kiss his very core. Greg anchored him with one hand and cupped Kyrie’s cock with the other, tugging roughly over the silk in time with his thrusts, tempting him over the crest.

“So good, so good.” Kyrie gasped as Greg took him unbelievable higher. “Wanna come so hard, Greg. Oh. Fuck…”

Greg froze for a heartbeat. Kyrie opened his eyes and then Greg was hauling him up, flipping him face down on the couch. Within seconds Greg’s naked chest covered his back as his lips pulled the skin behind Kyrie’s ear, plucked at his neck while warm breath called out goose bumps over every inch of Kyrie’s body. Hands skimmed up and down Kyrie’s flank, over his back and down to his cheeks. Kyrie wriggled against him, offered his ass up to the hard nudge of cock behind him. Greg had kicked his pants off, apparently, because furry thighs tickled Kyrie’s legs and ass.

And then Greg pulled the thong out of the way and sank back into him. As one, they let out a sigh. Like a conductor orchestrating a piece from one of the masters, Greg built it up slowly, sensuously, stroking him from inside and out with tender skill. He enveloped Kyrie with his body, wrapped him in warm skin, linked one of their hands together as his other skimmed down Kyrie’s belly and found his silk-covered cock once again.

“Oh, God.” Kyrie groaned, his teeth clamping on his own shaking arm. “Oh, God,” he repeated. He was reduced to a puddle of tremors and firing synapses, each movement Greg made behind him sending a wash of shivers cascading down his body.

“Fuck, Kyr,” Greg whispered behind him, tugging on his dick in time with his moving hips.

Kyrie couldn’t even speak anymore. A guttural moan tore from him as tears filled his eyes.

“Do it. Squeeze me with that ass. Come on.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Kyrie managed to pant the words in time with Greg’s humping. He couldn’t stop shaking; he was so close to letting go. So fucking close. Still he bit his lower lip hard, pushing it off for just one more thrust, and then just one more, loving the edge and wishing he could ride it forever.

“All mine. Give it to me ’cause it’s all mine.” Greg stroked into him deeply, rolling his hips against Kyrie’s backside and reaching under his balls all at once. Kyrie lost his tenuous grip on control. All yours, Greg.

His eyes rolled back in his head under closed lids as the orgasm racked his body. He shot in time with Greg’s pulsing movement, stream after stream controlled by Greg alone until he thought his balls might turn inside out and the silk pouch of his fancy underwear was heavy and wet against his spent dick.

“That’s right.” Greg grunted as he slid home once, twice, and then a final time before his body dissolved in jerks and quivers against Kyrie’s back.

Excerpt Two –

Samanthe Beck – Best Man With Benefits ©

Samanthe’s  Website | Twitter

Sophie stood there with her arms braced, her legs parted, panting like she’d just stepped off the treadmill, while he took his sweet time rolling the condom on. When he finally came up behind her again, she jumped like he’d zapped her with a live wire.

“Shh. Relax. Keep your eyes open.”

“Oh, God, Logan. Please…” She forced her eyes open and met his gaze in the mirror.

“Don’t look at me. Look at yourself.”

She did as he asked, and watched her mouth fall open and her skin flush pink as he guided himself between her legs, parting them wider so he could ease in. But he stopped much too soon, giving her only the smooth, blunt tip while her body pleaded to be stretched and filled.

She pursed her lips together to hold back a sob and arched her back to coax him deeper, but he put his hands on her hips and held her still. Greedy interior muscles quivered and clenched impatiently, and her sob turned into a tortured moan.

“Look in the mirror. Tell me what you see.”

“I see…” A stranger. An uninhibited woman chasing fulfillment without apology or hesitation.

He brought his hand around front and cupped her between her legs. Her whole body jerked as the tension coiled almost painfully tight.

“Tell me.”

“Oh, God. Logan, I don’t know…”

His quick, ruthless fingers danced up, down, and around the tight bundle of nerves at the center of her universe, circling…grazing, but never giving her the exquisite relief of full contact. Meanwhile he teased her from behind, barely penetrating while she clutched and squirmed for more. “You do know. Say it.”

She shook her head and caught their reflection in the glass shower enclosure. Was that woman really her? The one leaning over the counter with her back in such a deep, graceful arch her breasts actually appeared taut and upswept in profile? Her waist looked long and impossible narrow. The pose forced her onto her tiptoes, which made her butt look high and perfectly curved to fit in the chiseled cradle of Logan’s lap. His big, strong hand gripped her hip, and made her thigh seem ridiculously slim. She wore a slightly agonized expression she couldn’t remember ever seeing on her own face, but the woman staring back at her could have graced the banner of the Eve’s Closet landing page. The sight made her straining muscles tremble. “I look—” She couldn’t utter the words, so she resorted to begging. “Please. I’m so close, it’s painful. I can’t stand anymore…I need—”

“You need to say it.” He wrapped his arm high around her torso, creating a shelf to support her heaving breasts. “Say the words and I’ll take away the pain.”

The dark-haired vixen in the mirror had a mind of her own. She whispered, “I’m beautiful.”

Logan drove into her—deep and relentless—and the agony splintered into a million points of sharp, shimmering pleasure. Her head lolled forward and she made a high-pitched, inarticulate noise as the room spun. And still he continued thrusting like he wouldn’t be satisfied until every atom in her body scattered like dust.

“Say. It. Again.” The slap of their bodies slamming together punctuated each word. Her arms trembled from the strain of holding herself up, and she struggled to get command of her vocal cords.

“I’m beautiful,” she bit out, and threw her head back to watch as he lifted her hips, changed the angle, and plunged again—eyes closed, jaw clenched, his face a mask of concentration.

“Again,” he rasped. “Say it.” He tugged her hips back a little more, forcing her into a deeper bend, and thrust once…twice… She screamed as the first soul-racking convulsion shook her, followed by another, and another, in waves so fast and devastating she couldn’t get ahead of them.

His head tipped back; his fingers dug into her hips. Every muscle in his body went taut. “I want to hear you scream the words as I come.”

“I-I’m—” She couldn’t catch her breath.

“Beautiful,” he finished for her, and she watched in helpless awe as his big, solid body shuddered under the force of his orgasm. For the first time in her life, she felt like the words might just be true.

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