Sex Scene Championship Round 26 : Amber A. Bardan ( @amberabardan) vs Suz deMello ( @SuzdeMello)

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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 Amber Bardan and Suz deMello

Execerpt One –

Amber A. Bardan – For her Protection ©

“No, baby, no coming yet. You got to earn that.”

His words were husky, almost as raw as she felt. He withdrew from her slowly. She cried out and tried to grasp his arm. He moved out of reach.

She sagged against the sofa, fighting the urge to sob with need. Sweat gathered at her hairline.

Then he did the one thing that could distract her from her own body.

He revealed the rest of his.

Connor removed his pants, kicked the pile of black fabric across the floor. Her labored breathing stilled and she snapped up straight. His hands rested by his sides. Next to…the hottest cock she’d ever seen.

“Kneel,” he instructed.

The only word he needed to say and she was on her knees in front of him. Reaching for that smooth pink cock.

He grasped the back of her hair, halting her. “No, baby, you get what I give you.” He gripped the base of his cock—so freaking perfect in its symmetry it should be patented. Thick shaft—thick enough it might just push the boundaries of comfort—and swollen pink head. His cock called to her, made her want to take it into her body any way she could.

“Mouth open.”

She opened her lips and looked up at him. Dark blue veins corded their way up his arms. His jaw ticked. He couldn’t hide his arousal any more than he could hide the strength of his erection. He wanted her. She made him this way.

His gaze locked on hers. “You’ll need to do better if you want me to feed you this cock.”

She opened wider, stretched her tongue out. He groaned and guided the mushroomed head of his cock into her mouth. The silky skin of his crown slid across her tongue. The earthy taste of him made her tremble. He filled her mouth, made her stretch her jaw as he pushed deeper. He overwhelmed her. Hard flesh in her mouth, his taste, his scent—the intimate, musky scent of a man.

She wrapped her lips around him and sucked hard. The grip in her hair became a caress but he maintained control with his cock. Forced a little more of himself on her each time then took it away—only to give more—more cock, more of his salty skin and the distinct smell of him that enslaved her.

Her hands roamed to his thighs, touching, stroking, kneading her way closer to the hand he still used to hold himself. She wanted to be the one to hold him—to devour him—to make him feel. His fingers massaged her scalp.

“That’s it, baby, suck me.”

His heavy sac brushed her hand and she moved to it, cupping and measuring its weight in her palm. He groaned and thrust into her mouth, far enough to challenge her gag reflex. But she took him in, didn’t gag, forced her muscles to comply, take whatever he chose to give her. He grasped her hand and let it replace the one he’d used to hold his shaft, let her fingers curl around his girth then covered her hand with his. She stroked him with her fist while taking him with her mouth.

Her fingers only held half of him. She squeezed her thighs and rocked her hips, her body responding to the idea of this great big thing inside her. It made sense he’d be big. No man strutted like he did without having the goods to back it up. And he had them, had enough to justify his arrogance and then some.

She gasped when his cock left her lips, let air fill her lungs before she took him back in and pumped him firmly with her hand. Her chest burned, her jaw strained. Wanting him was an ache upon an ache. Like being addicted to something that hurts a little—worth the sting for the rush it delivers. That’s what Connor’s cock was like.

His thigh stiffened under her free hand and he withdrew from her mouth completely. She arched her neck and opened her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out as far as it would go for more.

“Look at you.” Connor tugged on her hair and butted the tip of his dick against her tongue but didn’t feed it to her like she wanted. “Do you have any clue how fucking stunning you are?” He groaned and released her then tugged her up by the arm. “Shirt off now.”

Dagmar stood. Clad all in white, her pale flesh almost indistinguishable from the clothing she wore, she seemed a woman made of ice. Andrew was determined to melt her, break her, bring her to her knees.

He could be wrong, but he thought he’d understood her at first glance. The next few moments would tell him if he’d found the woman he’d needed all his life, or if he’d meet her son at dawn with pistols or rapiers in hand.

She turned to face him. He went to the door and locked it with a decisive click.

“Well, madame.” He thrust his hand into her hair and clenched his fist until tears started in her eyes. She gasped, and he kissed her, being deliberately rough as he thrust in his tongue.

She bit. He dragged her head back and slapped her arse as hard as he could, then wrapped his arm around her to control her thrashing about.

By Jove, but she was strong! Taller and stronger than any woman he’d ever known. He gloried in her struggle, knowing he was more than equal to her, and spanked her rump again and again, harsh swats that heated her flesh even through her clothing.  Finally she stilled and quieted.

He gave her one final smack. Her body jolted but she did not try to break free, instead letting her quivering body sag against his.

“Good girl.” Loosening his hand, he stroked her hair. “We donnae have to fight as long as ye acknowledge who is master.”

She again tried to jerk away. Frustration burned in her dark eyes. “I have no master and do not want one.”

He gathered her skirt, drawing up folds until he could easily reach beneath them. After finding the gap in her pantalettes, he reached inside and fingered her moisture. “Och, I think you do, madame, and I think I am the right mon for ye.”

He stroked her hot, hard bump and sucked in a breath. He’d found her. He’d found her, the woman his soul had craved. Clearly no-one’s fool, she was strong but desirous of submission.

He closed his eyes to savor the moment. When he was ready, he withdrew his hand slowly, caressing slit and clit tenderly. She was wet enough, he reckoned, but not soaking. She would be before he finished, but he didn’t mind a harsh entry. He could deliver both pain and pleasure, and he well knew that the combination was a heady treat for many women. From her reaction to the spanking, he guessed she was one of those for whom pain aroused.

He turned her and said, “Bend over.” He pushed her shoulders down and she grasped her knees for support. He unbuttoned his breeches, lifted her skirts and again searched for her opening with hasty fingers. After finding it, he took her. He meant to ram in, but her slickness prevented that. He slid into a wet channel whose tightness surprised him. She was a widow and he expected her to be more open, but he didnae mind.

He groaned as his staff parted slippery tissues, then rested a moment in her cozy, silken nest. Gripping her hips, he began to saw in and out of her. With each thrust, he grunted and so did she. Her muscles tightened and he sensed she approached her climax. He reached around her to slap her mound. A surprised yelp accompanied a clenching on his rod. He spanked her again, tugged on her clitty and fucked her harder.

He pulled out of her and dragged her over to the bay window, where he forced her down over the cushioned window seat.

She gasped and panted. “We’ll be seen!” Though clothed, they’d be visible to any passer-by who might look up into the first story window.

“Donnae worry. Ye’re close and so am I.” He hauled up her skirt and gave her another few swats, wishing he had a whip. At the thought of marking her lush rump, his cock hardened even more. He grabbed her hair again, wrenched her head back and shoved inside her now-gaping hole. She moaned, her cunt tightening anew.

He rode her hard and long until she was taking great sobbing breaths and sprawled, limp and compliant, over the cushions.

He bent over her and scattered tiny bites over the flesh left naked by her low-cut dress. “Whose are ye?” he growled into her ear.

“Yours.”

Lightning flashed through his veins and he came, flooding her.