Sex Scene Championship round 20 : Crane Hanna vs Vivian Arend

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 Crane Hanna vs Vivian Arend

Execerpt One –

 Moro’s Price – Crane Hanna (writing as MC Hana)©

Mindful of Moro’s barely healed body, Val lavished more of the lubricant into Moro’s channel. “We’ll do this my way,” he said. “The opposite of what happened in the cage. Cushions, instead of you straining against gravity. Instead of being tied to a damned pole, a binding you can break. And in place of Kott’s python of a cock, mine.” Val knelt among the cushions, then leaned forward. The narrowed tip of his penis slid between Moro’s cheeks. “I won’t hurt you, Moro. How can this hurt you? Yield.”

“I yield,” Moro moaned, hips pushing back.

Val pushed his knees between Moro’s thighs, spreading them wider. He pressed against Moro’s trembling back, and nosed into Moro’s tangled black hair. With every motion, every brush of skin against skin, elusive pleasure surged and faded. He needed more. “I claim,” he growled and breached Moro with one strong, deep thrust.

When Moro could think, he thought, So different from Kott!

Val’s voice coaxed and sang, marveling with him, neither self-loathing nor gloating. The cushions helped Moro focus only on the pleasure of Val’s fast, hard strokes. Val’s beautiful cock met flesh healed enough to greedily welcome it. Not so slim once it was inside! Val’s cockhead angled just the right way to roughly kiss Moro’s prostate in starbursts of sensation.

Not many had bothered to finish him without resorting to the collar. Val never touched it.

Moro was painfully hard again, grinding on the cushions as he countered Val’s thrusts, when he felt a hated, familiar coldness flash down his spine, through his arms and legs. He couldn’t move. “Unhhh,” he tried before speech left him.

Lyton was cheating, damn him. And poor, silly Val wouldn’t know the difference!

Val drove deep again, then paused. Moro felt warm fingers slide underneath him, between flesh and cushions. Val fondled Moro’s balls and straining shaft, his swollen cockhead and slippery foreskin, the wet slit weeping into the damp towel under him. Finding again all the secret places Val had first discovered in the auto-room, where a mere touch had made Moro howl and scream. Now, feeling everything but unable to respond on his own, Moro thought he’d black out from the delicious torment.

“Sardis, stop. I know you’re in him,” said Val, easing his attack. “The moment you took over, I knew.”

Moro felt his body shudder in reaction to Lyton’s surprise.

Val began to move again. His extra hip swivel on the downstroke sent white sparks flying across Moro’s vision.

“Moro said you can’t actually feel anything when you control him. A pity you don’t know what I’m doing to him right now,” said Val, timing words to thrusts. “Between the two of us, we’re driving him wild. Is this new collar better? Can you feel me, Sardis? If you take Moro’s body as your own, very soon I’ll be taking you, this same way.”

Lyton’s control wavered.

It struck Moro as unbelievably funny. And wildly arousing. Vicious, perfect Lyton Sardis, undone by the heightened senses of a Sonta body, driven into floundering release by a bewitching Camalian prince!

“Ah,” Val gloated. “Didn’t you think this through? I won’t ever be your meek, decorative toy. I’m an Antonin, Sardis. A Camalian Royal. We get what we want. Even when we bottom, we’re bossy creatures. We’re worse when Cama rides our minds. And I’m exceptional. You must have heard the rumors? Poor Valier. Miswired Valier, always wanting more than decent Camalians are able to give him? Have I met my match in you? They’ll thank you for volunteering. I could take you in public, up against Camonde’s Sunburst Throne during a full meeting of Parliament. I could whip you bloody on the street outside, and no one would bat an eye.”

Lyton’s control broke. Moro heard the man’s strangled cry of “Valier!” echo in the isolation chamber.

Freed, Moro howled, hips slamming back against Val’s cock, legs shuddering in Val’s strong grip. His vision drowned in brilliant golden light. This time the faint whisper of Cama’s presence didn’t fade completely away.

Mitch bunched her skirt under his fingers, cursing loudly as he met nothing but bare skin. Totally bare.

“Sweet fuck, you shaved.”

“Waxed. Oh God, don’t stop.”

He’d slipped his fingers over her pussy, delving between her labia to get his fingers wet before circling her clit. “Bare pussy. Wet bare pussy. Jesus fuck, woman. You think I can just stick my cock in you, and be done?”

“Good by me,” Anna insisted. A gasp escaped as he pushed a finger deep inside. “Mitch, just do me already.”

He twirled her, his eyes blazing with lust as he pushed her shoulders against the car. “No.”

He took her lips before she could protest, kissing her like he did damn near everything. High speed, high intensity, igniting high-octane flames that lit her inside and out. His tongue licked into her mouth, his fingers cleverly undoing the elastic that had held her hair in a neat ponytail. She wrapped her arms around his neck in the hopes of keeping him close. It was no use, though, as he pulled away far too soon and put his teeth to her neck, a hand slipping between them to resume tormenting her clit with a steady rhythm.

“Don’t taunt me,” Anna begged. “I was ready for sex five minutes after you called me this morning.”

“Hmm. You’ve been hot and aching all day?”

Another round of skillfully applied pressure slid over her clit, and her hips jerked involuntarily. “Aching so hard.”

“Did you play with yourself?” he asked, easing off slightly, his thumb pulsing in an unending beat. “Did you have to hide somewhere so you could slip your fingers into your panties? Did you think about me shoving my cock deep inside you again and again until you scream?”

“Yes,” she hissed.

Mitch pulled back, and she whimpered in protest. She reached for him, but he shook his head, that evil grin back in place as he eased away far enough he could leer at her. “Show me,” he demanded.

There was no ignoring the command, and hell if she wanted to. At this point, if he wasn’t going to deal with her…

He dropped to his knees so that as she slid her fingers down to touch herself, his head was only inches away. She stroked lightly to keep from bursting into flames in less than three seconds.

“Give me your hand,” Mitch ordered.

She held it out, and he caught her wrist, licking her fingers one at a time. The rough contrast of his tongue over the pads of her fingers teased her senses. He moved her hand, and she shook, leaning harder on the car to stop from melting to the ground as he used her own wet fingers to play with her clit. Slipping between her folds and stroking her to a feverish pitch.

“Mitch, please.” Begging came all too easy at this point. “Give me your cock.”

“Come first. Come on my tongue.” He put his lips to her pussy, driving his tongue deep, fucking her with it as he worked her fingers over her clit again and again.

A long, low cry flowed from her lips, trembling in the air like the nearby leaves as the first wave of her orgasm hit her. Hips bucking forward, aching for something to hold, her pussy contracted and she called out his name.

He was on his feet, zipper down, cock in hand. She stared through sex-hazed eyes at the momentary glint as the ball bearings adorning his cock head shone in the sunlight. He hitched her thigh over his hip, her skirt bunched around her waist.

“Hold on, this is going to be a wild ride,” Mitch promised.

He put the head of his cock to her pussy and thrust upward. One motion, another. It took three drives for him to work all the way in, her climax still rippling around him.

Then the fucking began in earnest.