Smutketeers

I’ve heard some of the chicks on this blog dig tattoos. That helped me decide to talk about the ink that my hero and heroine both wear in my latest gothic urban fantasy, Blood Rights. It begins the House of Comarré series and the hero and heroine star in every book so they’re fairly layered characters. Their tattoos are just one of those layers.

In the case of my heroine, Chrysabelle, her tattoos aren’t actual ink, but sacred gold that’s been melted down and stitched into her skin. These marks are called signum and it’s a very painful process, as you might imagine, but every one of her kind (the comarré) undergo the procedure to help purify their blood. See, the comarré are blood slaves whose job it is to feed the noble class of vampires so they don’t ravage the human race. Chrysabelle bears a large number of signum, more than many of her comarré siblings, making her one of the most highly prized of her kind.

The comarré are already a status symbol among the vampire nobility, who buy the comarré the way human millionaires buy Bentleys and beachhouses. Unlike other material goods, the blood of the comarré actually increases their patron’s power. So the more gold in their skin, the more power they can provide.

My outcast vampire hero, Mal, has ink for an entirely different reason. His came to him by way of a curse and they mark him as an anathema to the rest of the nobility. His ink is actually a body suit of names. Each name belongs to a victim. Someone he drank to death. And because of another curse he’s under which makes it impossible to sink his fangs into someone and let them live, those names number in the thousands. Unlike Chrysabelle’s gilding, Mal’s names aren’t always stationary. Sometimes they merge and flow over him, covering him until he turns into the manifestation of the beast that lives within him. Sometimes, when Chrysabelle touches him, she can feel them moving.

In these ways, the marks of my two characters give the casual observer an idea of who they are. Chrysabelle looks like a sparkling prize, Mal a dark, tortured monster. And while these initial impressions aren’t wrong, they don’t begin to scratch the surface of what lies beneath Chrysabelle and Mal’s expansively distinctly decorated skin.

What about you? Do you have any ink? Does it define you? Or is it just a peak into who you are?

For more info on the House of Comarre series, visit www.kristenpainter.com or www.houseofcomarre.com

Twitter: Kristen_Painter

FB: https://www.facebook.com/KristenPainterAuthor

I’m doing a contest over on my blog to win a copy of the Prowl series, so go check it out. Here are the details about the books…

Prowl the Night

Amazon | B&N | B-A-M | Powell’s

They are Panthers, sleek and sultry shapeshifters who survive by banding together and mating for life. Theirs is a world of unmatched power and uncontrollable passion…

Crave Me

As newly appointed heir to his Pride, Tomas Montoya struggles with both his new duties and his new mate. He craves the dark and dangerous pleasure he finds with Ciri but wonders if he can ever satisfy her need for more…

Want Me

Teresa Garcia has seen how loving and losing a mate can drive someone mad and she has no interest in experiencing that herself. But when she meets Rafael Santiago, she wants him like no other. Driven by desire, she hungers for his body with a fierce and feral passion…

Read an Excerpt

And for those who might be confused by the 87 books I seem to have with the word “Night” in the title, Prowl the Night has an emphasis on the Prowl because it’s the sequel to On the Prowl.

On the Prowl

Amazon | B&N | B-A-M | Powell’s

Meet the Cruz brothers. They look human—except for the golden sheen their eyes take when they’re aroused beyond control…and the way their claws come out when it’s time to play rough. They’re Panthers, ancient shapeshifters, and their survival depands on mating to bring out their wild sides…

Undeniable
When Antonio, the strong, sexy new leader of the Panther pride, meets luscious Solana in a dark alleyway, their passion lights up the night. But she’s an outcast, an impossible mate—and her touch makes him lose all control…

Irresistible
Ex-model and businesswoman Andrea doesn’t need anyone—until she meets Miguel, who tempts her mind with daring games and teases her body with dark, forbidden please she can’t resist…

Indescribable
Wild twins Ricardo and Diego do everything together—and their women appreciate the teamwork. Until shy Isabel takes refuge in their pride, and both want to claim her. Of course, sometimes two mates are better than one…

Read an Excerpt

Anybody who doesn’t know the Tom Petty song the post title references should click here, just so we’re all on the same page.

Okay, RG says we’re supposed to talk about our self-published work. The stuff that we figured out how to edit, format, do cover art for, and upload to various ebook retail sites like Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Smashwords, etc. It’s a lot of work, but it also gives us all kinds of control over our work. INFINITE POWER!!!! **giddy evil laugh**

Heh.

Okay, I’m good now.

Where was I? Oh, yes. Self-published books. I’ve put out a few short stories this year that were self-pubbed. My most recent one, The Marion Kind, is one I’m especially proud of, because I made the cover myself. It’s not a super complicated cover, but I made it, so to me that makes it super special. The best cover ever. Mine all mine. (Do we sense a me-me-me theme when it comes to self-pubbing. Hm.)

THE MARION KIND
Smashwords | B&N Nook | Amazon
Marion’s all tied up over Kurt. Why? Because she wanted a little thrill in her small-town life and got it by dating the town bad boy. Only it went way beyond a mere thrill in under a week. Now, a year later, she wants to know when they’re going to take it to the next level. She wants it all and she wants it with him. So she asks him to marry her. When he doesn’t react at all, she walks out, realizing that her mother was right…the bad boy isn’t the marrying kind.

But Kurt’s not about to make it that easy for her to leave. He’s had a week to get angry over her stomping off. So what if he has to tie her to the bed to get her to listen to him? He won’t let her avoid him forever, and if this is what it takes to get her attention, so be it. He’d never thought Marion wanted anything other than to burn up the sheets with him, but he’s thinking about it now…and he’s ready to be all tied up over Marion. Until death do them part.
—-

I also put out a couple of free reads this year that I self-published. I didn’t do the covers on these ones. Instead, I turned things over to the talents of my friend Dayna Hart, who writes lovely stories and can occasionally be bribed into using her mad skillz with photoshop.

These two stories are sequels to my book Carnal Desires (and In Ice in the Sexy Beast V antho, which has the Kesuk story RG always talks about). I loved being able to wrap up a few of the characters from the Carnal Desires world, because so many of them tugged at my heart and wanted a story too, even if it was a little one.

IN THE FLAMES
Smashwords | B&N Nook
Prince Taymullah has been made Regent of the weretiger planet, Vesperi, while his elder brother is away on the annual trade run. It’s important that he not upset the balance of power among the weretiger prides during his temporary reign. But his hand is forced when the woman he loves is bethrothed by her father to another man. What would Taymullah risk for love?

IN THE TEMPEST
Smashwords | B&N Nook
Humiliated and abandoned by a weredragon lord sworn to mate with her through political arrangement, Lady Adriana refuses to mate for anything less than love—even if it means refusing the advances of the commanding Lord Baleel. Adriana believes he’s only after the prestige mating with her will bring him…until he forces her to see that his pursuit of her has nothing to do with politics and everything to do with love.

—-
There’s also a special Kindle edition bundle that costs $.99 because Amazon wouldn’t let me make it for free, so I squished them together so you’d at least get more for your money. I figured some people would rather pay the buck than figure out how to download, upload, shuffle files around from Smashwords to Kindle, but it’s up to you. (I’m one for convenience myself, but I like pushing the button and poof, it’s on my Kindle. Heh.)

Right now, I don’t have any real solid plans for self-publishing anything else, but my fellow Smutketeers tell me we’re percolating on something that all four of us will contribute to. All for Smut, and Smut for All, right?

Okay, so as a reward for making it all the way to the end of this blog post, I’m offering up a copy of my ebook, The Marion Kind, to one commenter. I’ll declare a winner at the end of the week. Thanks for stopping by!

I had the Prof pick a number and the winner is… Dawn! You get the necklace and the Amazon gift card. Send me an email with your snail mail address at crystal @ crystaljordan.com (no space) to claim your prize. The man and I are the road on a belated anniversary trip, but I’ll be in touch when I get home!

I’m so excited to announce the release of my new Spice Brief, WANTON, the second in my lynx shape-shifter series. The first one was WILD, and I loved the world so much I had to come back to it not once, but twice. The third in the series, WICKED, will be out next year. So, fear not, these stories may be short, but there are plenty of them to go around!

What I loved about these is that it took a place I’m familiar with, the California Sierra Nevada Mountains (I’m a native California girl and we did a lot of camping up in the mountains as a kid), and I turned it into this feral mating ground where nothing matters but spring fever, the need to mate, and all these paranormal creatures come together to rut. Familiar meets fantastical. It was so much fun, and I hope you enjoy where I went with it.

Plus, I absolutely freaking love the cover Harlequin gave me for this book. I was all giddy the moment it hit my inbox. Check it out.

WANTON

Two years after her lover died, Lynx Jenise finally feels ready to indulge the consuming urge to mate at the shifter gathering known as the Wild. Though her very human heart was broken, her animal instincts can no longer be suppressed.

But even as she finds the rough pleasure she craves with other Lynxes, another instinct haunts Jenise—the feeling that another mate is near….

Find the ebook:
eHarlequin Store
B&N Nook
Amazon Kindle

Excerpt:

She was being hunted.

A small smile curved Jenise’s lips, and her heart began to pound with heady anticipation. The cold mountain air of the Sierra Nevadas kissed her naked flesh, curling between her bare legs to stroke the heated folds of her sex. She shivered, her nipples tightening to an almost painful degree. The slightest rustle of a cat’s paw on dew-covered grass whispered in her ear.

He was catching up with her. Her hunter. The Lynx within her nearly purred as the excitement built higher. She couldn’t wait for him to fuck her, but he’d have to catch her first. Her smile widened. The first week of Spring every year was the Wild time for her kind. Every female went into heat simultaneously, and every Lynx on the continent gathered here. To connect with their animalistic nature, to rut until the heat burned itself out.

It was the last day of Wild. She could feel the heat easing its grip on her body. Tears pressed against her lids at the prospect of this time away from time ending. She clenched her jaw, shoving the thought away. No. She would enjoy the now, squeeze every ounce of sensation out of what time remained to her. Her grin sharpened, showing her truest nature. Feral woman.

Shivering again at the cool breeze licking at her flesh, she shifted into her Lynx form. Her body flowed into the new shape, bones and sinew remolding into those of a feline. Spotted fur soon covered her skin, protecting her from the chill wind.

She wound through the tall trees, padding lightly on her paws as the underbrush thinned and gave way to the rocky shore beside a flowing river. The last rays of the fading sun sparkled on the water as it gurgled around and tripped over larger rocks. The breeze fluttered through her thick fur, bringing with it the scent of her pursuer.

Soon. Soon, she would have him as she had had so many others this week. A pang struck her, and her heart clenched in her chest. Guilt twisted inside her, choking off her breath.

Two years had passed since Shane died. Her mate. The first year, she hadn’t been able to make herself attend Wild. The loss was too raw, too new. Alone in her house, the cravings of her body had eaten her alive until she’d screamed from the relentless want she couldn’t stop. She was in heat, she needed to fuck. Those animal instincts didn’t care that her very human heart had shattered, that half of her soul had been ripped away, leaving her empty and barren. Broken.

Lost.

She couldn’t face her Wild time alone the second year. She just . . . couldn’t. The need had clawed at her too deeply, slicing through her control. She swallowed and twitched her ears, trying to ignore the guilt. Shane was possessive, as all males of their kind were. He would hate knowing that she craved the touch of another man, any other man who might want to stroke his fingers down her naked skin, who might be willing to thrust his long cock into her overheating body. Anything to assuage the need, to ease the carnal torment for even a single moment.

He would never have understood.

Leave a comment on this post for a chance to win a $10 Amazon giftcard and this awesome necklace. Due to shipping costs, this contest is only open to those in the continental US. Sorry! I’ll announce a winner on Friday, so check back then!

The winner for my contest to get a copy of IF YOU BELIEVE is…

Na

Congrats! You’ll be getting an email from me soon about how to claim your prize.

Thanks again to everyone who entered!

That’s right, ladies and gents! (Though I’m guessing mostly ladies, since, ya know, I write the romantically inclined smut.) In any case, the final edition in my Unbelievable series is out today from Samhain Publishing. Heck yeah, I’m super excited about it!

This story has been a long time in coming, and I’ve had a lot of people ask when I was going to write this book, Mason and Celia’s story. Yes, I got each and every one of your emails, and I finally managed to find the time between other deadlines to get it done. Just for you guys, I promise. You’re welcome.

So, without further ado, let me give you a lil excerpt of the fun and games (or divorced bitterness, actually) that was this book. I do love those challenging characters, don’t you?

MAKE ME BELIEVE

She has two words for love. “Make me.” Then love changes the rules…

As far as hairstylist Celia Occam is concerned, she’s struck out at marriage twice, and there will be no “third time’s a charm”. So what if one salon employee and the town gossip seem dead set on fixing her up with Prince Charming. She’s nobody’s princess.

She’s all for scratching the occasional itch with the right man, but flirtatious firefighter Mason Delacroix is all wrong. Besides, with three broken engagements on his romantic rap sheet, even a one-night mattress mambo sounds like a bad idea.

From the first moment Mason encounters Celia’s emotional barriers, he’s determined to turn up the heat as high as it takes to melt the ice. If the whole town wants to back him up by playing Cupid, he’s on board. Track record be damned. He wants Celia, and he’s ready for permanent.

When her self-appointed guardian angels conspire to lock them in the basement, their long-denied chemistry explodes. She finds herself relishing every moment—though her subconscious is already on the run.

Funny thing, though. Every time she zigs, Mason’s already zagged. Making her wonder if this time it’s for real, or if Cupid is just up to its old tricks.

Find the ebook:
Samhain Publishing
B&N Nook
Amazon Kindle

Excerpt:

How did she get herself into these messes? Oh, right. She had friends with the utter gall to be happy.

Celia Occam rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the fact that she was up to her eyeballs in decorations for her best friend’s surprise wedding reception. Aubrey had eloped with her new husband Price a few weeks before, without any of the frills of a real wedding, so a surprise party to celebrate the occasion was in order. Actually, the owner of the local bed and breakfast inn had insisted on throwing the shindig and had roped Celia into helping put it together. Silver balloons and navy blue streamers hung from every surface of the B&B.

“Give me a hand with this, won’t you, dear?” Mrs. Chambers called. The elderly woman—and certified small town busybody—wobbled on top of a stepladder, the white knot coiled on top of her head wobbling even more precariously.

Celia’s heart tripped when she saw the old lady go up on her tiptoes to string more streamers from a doorway. “Get down, Mrs. Chambers.”

“Oh, I can do it. Just hold—”

“No, ma’am.” She leaped up from where she knelt attaching a table skirt, jogging over to brace the other woman’s legs. “Please, stop. I can take care of it for you. Really. Come away from there.”

“If you insist.” Climbing down with more grace than Celia would have imagined, Mrs. Chambers brushed off her dress. Then she wagged her finger. “I’ve told you to call me Tori.”

“Right. Tori.” Celia sighed in relief at having the older woman on solid ground, grabbed the dangling end of the streamer, and hopped up on the ladder while Tori watched. “I might slip and call you Mrs. C sometimes, Mrs. C.”

“So I see.” Tori laughed, but then her tone turned coy and teasing. “Mason Delacroix is coming to the party tonight.”

Celia’s heart thumped at the mention of his name. She stomped down on the reaction, ignoring it as she had for the year she’d known him. Forcing her voice into nonchalance, she busied herself with hanging more paper doodads. “Well, he’s the groom’s brother, so I assumed you invited him.”

“He’s such a nice young man. Handsome, too.” Tori handed her a piece of tape for the next streamer. “I think he likes you.”

“I think he’d just like to get in my pants,” Celia muttered.

“What was that, dear?”

“Nothing.” She glanced down and smiled as innocently as she could, which wasn’t very, but she gave it a shot.

Tori’s white bun teetered when she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. Lately, she’d been hell-bent in her mission to fix Celia and Mason up, and she fired a new salvo. “He’d be good for you, and he does like you. You should take him up on it the next time he asks you out. He’s not going to your hair salon just for his looks.”

Of course, everyone knew Mason made appointments at Occam’s Razor to have her shave his head on a regular basis. Each time he’d come in, he’d asked her out. But he hadn’t come in the last few weeks, and his hair had grown into a dark stubble. It did nothing to detract from his good looks. Tori was right about that… Mason was undeniably handsome.

When Celia didn’t respond, Tori heaved a dramatically disappointed sigh. “I’ll just go see if Jerry needs help in the kitchen.”

“You do that.” Celia shook her head as the town gossip bustled away, reluctant affection winding through her. Mrs. Chambers got her hair washed and styled at Celia’s salon at least three times a week, just for an excuse to eavesdrop on any juicy conversations that might be going on. The woman knew everything about everyone—her abilities in that arena never failed to impress Celia. Spending a good portion of her childhood in Cedarville meant everyone knew everything about Celia’s sordid past already, so she didn’t have to worry about what Tori might hear about her. Ah, small town life.

Tell me about your favorite falling-in-love-after-love-kicked-you-down book or movies in the comments and you’ll be entered to win a copy of the first book in the series, IF YOU BELIEVE. I’ll announce who the winner is, right here on Friday at noon.

Welcome to day three of Smutketeer Idol. Be sure to check out the Smutketeers at IH.

International Heat is taking over the Smutketeers’ blog and bringing the HOT stuff. Today, we continue the last day of “auditions” to see who will become the NEXT HONORARY SMUTKETEER!!!

The rules of the game are simple (think American Idol). Simply read today’s smutty excerpts and in the comments section, place your vote for that day’s smuttiest. Tomorrow, the winners from each day of auditions will compete for the top spot and will be crowned HONORARY SMUTKETEER (at least for that day)!

Anne Rainey is the author of more than twenty steamy romance books—most of which you’ll hide from your mother. From the first filthy scene Anne surreptitiously read, she’s been obsessed with sexy, muscular men and the women they’re intent on handcuffing and spanking.

Excerpt from So Sensitive

“Turn around.” Wade’s deep voice allowed no room for argument.

And still, Gracie pushed. “Why?”

Wade planted both hands on the counter beside her, caging her in. “Do as I said, Gracie.”

In that moment in time, Gracie knew the truth. Wade owned her. Irrevocably and completely. She would do anything for him. The notion sent a jolt of fear clear to her soul. No man should ever have such power over a woman.

On shaking legs, Gracie turned and faced the kitchen cabinets. Waiting, for what she didn’t know, proved to be a lesson in patience. It seemed like an hour passed before Wade spoke again. This time, his words had her pussy creaming.

“You lied to me, baby,” he whispered, his lips caressing the shell of her ear. “As far as I can see there’s only one thing to do about that.”

Gracie braced herself, anticipating the spanking she knew Wade would deliver. Only nothing happened. “Wade?”

“Hush, Gracie. I won’t be rushed.” When large hands cupped her buttocks and squeezed, Gracie groaned. “You wanted me for months, but you turned me down. Time and again. And then you have the nerve to lie about it to my face. That’s very naughty.” He caressed her through the denim, and Gracie knew a kind of torment she’d never experienced before. She ached to have his hard, callused hands against her flesh. Warming her with the erotic spanking she knew was coming.

Still, he took his time.

“So many times I went home after one of your rejections and was forced to take myself in hand. Do you know what that means, Gracie?”

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. His hands kept petting and kneading. She shook her head from side to side, already losing the thread of the conversation.

“It means, my Fiery Angel, that I unzipped my jeans and pulled out my cock,” he whispered. “I had to wrap my own fist around it. Your image stayed in my head while I stroked. Your denials too. I came, vowing that someday soon it’d be your pussy I pumped full, instead of a damn tissue.”

“Oh, Wade,” she whimpered, as the image he’d created with his words flitted through her head.

“And finally here we are.” Wade’s big, warm hands cupped and massaged; he was driving her insane with his words and touches both. “I’ve fucked this tight little ass. I’ve filled your hot cunt. And you’ve taken me to heaven with that pretty mouth of yours. Unfortunately, you had to go and tell that little fib about not wanting me.”

“I-I can’t help it. I’m not used to feeling so…” She simply couldn’t put into words the way he made her feel.

“Vulnerable?” he helpfully supplied. Gracie nodded, knowing that’s exactly what had her so scared. “You think it’s any easier for me? You can’t breathe without me taking notice of it, Gracie. Everything about you fascinates me.”

Facing away made it easier to speak her mind, Gracie realized. For the first time, she let down the walls protecting her heart. “You’re too intense, Wade. I don’t know what to do with you half the time. I feel like a five-year-old going to kindergarten for the first time.”

“These are feelings we can work out. There’s no rush. I don’t need you to be a relationship expert. I only need you to be you. Open. Honest. Willing to embrace what we could have together.”

She had no words. Wade already knew how she felt about relationships, and reiterating it seemed pointless. Instead, she stayed silent and waited.

Several seconds went by before Wade murmured, “So stubborn. Soon you’ll see that I’m a good bet, sweetheart.” One strong arm wrapped around her waist. “Until then, there’s the little matter of your discipline.”

Gracie’s legs trembled as Wade unbuttoned her jeans. The zipper went down next. He pushed, and the material slid down over her hips to pool at her ankles. She felt him grip her panties and yank. The fragile silk tore in two. She moaned, more than ready to step out of her jeans and give him complete access to her body, but he stopped her with a hand on her hip.

“No. Stay still. I like you like this. Shackled at the ankles and at my mercy.” Wade rubbed his palm over one cheek and Gracie tensed. “God, I fucking love this ass. So round and creamy. I want to see it all pink, Gracie. I want you to have a stinging reminder of what happens if you ever choose to lie to me again.”

Gracie took a single breath, then yelped as Wade delivered the first hard swat to her bottom. She grabbed the counter harder and waited for the next, her clit throbbing and swollen, juices spilling down her thighs. She didn’t have to wait long before Wade’s palm came down a second and a third time.

“Reach down and play with your soft little pussy, Gracie. Do it now.”

Helpless against the sensual assault, Gracie did as Wade commanded. She slipped her hand between the counter and her body and cupped her mound.

“Fuck it with your finger, pretty baby. Get yourself off while I spank this ass.”

“Wade,” she moaned, even as she glided her middle finger into her hot, wet opening. So close. She could come so easily.

Wade slapped the left cheek of her rear two more times, then switched to the other and paid the same attention to it. Over and over, Wade alternated between hard and gentle swats. Soon, Gracie was begging and writhing, her finger deeply imbedded in her pussy.

“Damn, you’re hot,” Wade growled as he massaged the sting away with his palm. “So pretty. So naughty. You love this, don’t you? Admit it to me.”

As an answer, Gracie pushed her hips backwards, giving him better access to her ass. Her name passed his lips in a rough demand seconds before his hand landed on her stinging cheek once more. “Come for me. Let me see it.”

Given permission, Gracie moved her finger farther inside the heat of her pussy. Her body gripped the digit, sucking at her finger. Wade brought his hand down on her once more. Over and over. Gracie pumped herself faster, teasing her clit at the same time, while Wade delivered the stinging swats she craved. Unable to help herself, Gracie glanced over her shoulder. Wade stood behind her, his gaze on her ass, every inch the dominant male lover she’d imagined him to be.

Hi, I’m Mari Carr. I write erotic romance for Samhain and Ellora’s Cave. I love boxed wine, Words with Friends and rainy days. It’s been my dream to be a Smutketeer since I was old enough to read the words cock and pussy. When I was still in high school, I used to steal my dad’s Jackie Collins’ books, reading them with a flashlight late at night so my mom wouldn’t catch me. I was scandalized and mesmerized.

Today, for my audition, I’m sharing a piece from Happy Hour.

Trey threw his head back against the pillow as Grace felt each pulse of his cock, filling the condom. Jamie released her and Grace fell forward, Trey’s arms waiting to catch her, pulling her against his chest. Both of them were breathing heavily, their bodies slick with sweat. Trey’s now-soft cock was lodged within her, but neither of them moved to separate.

Jamie remained behind her and a small part of her wanted to turn her head, wanted to look at his face, but there wasn’t an ounce of strength left in her body to allow even that tiny move.

Trey recovered first as she felt his arms tighten around her waist. “Spread your legs a little, baby.”

She wanted to obey, but wasn’t sure she could manage. Once more, Jamie took care of her, gently pushing her legs apart. She and Trey gasped as the motion caused her pussy to quiver against his still-buried cock. “Do you want me to move so—”

“Leave it in,” Jamie said, though her question had been directed at Trey. “You have no idea how hot it looks, seeing you with Trey’s cock buried deep inside.”

Grace closed her eyes, imagining what Jamie was seeing and she was suddenly jealous of his position on the bed.

“This might be cold,” Jamie added and she gasped when she felt him squeeze some lube directly on her ass. His finger quickly smoothed through the sticky gel, gradually working it into the puckered rosette.

He moved into her slowly, but resolutely. Now that she’d made her request and tied it up with the trust bow, Jamie seemed intent on making the experience memorable. Eventually one finger became two and soon two became three. Each addition brought a slight pinching that was quickly soothed by more lube and Jamie’s whispered sweet nothings.

Trey remained relatively quiet during her initiation, stroking her back and occasionally pressing soft kisses to the top of her head. A couple of times he hissed quietly and she knew he was feeling a bit of what Jamie was doing to her as well. His cock jerked and though it was still mostly soft, she could detect it gradually starting to rejuvenate.

Finally, she heard the sound of a package opening and a few seconds later, the head of Jamie’s cock brushed against her ass. Part of her expected Jamie to ask her once more if she was sure, so she was surprised when his cock moved lower, missing her ass altogether.

Grace felt Jamie’s hand near her pussy and Trey jerked beneath her.

“Fuck, Jamie,” Trey’s voice was the perfect mixture of shock and question. “What happened to the part about not touching each other?”

Grace tried to turn, tried to see what Jamie was doing, but her view was obstructed by Jamie’s rock-hard chest, bending over her.

“Always wanted to try something and I don’t want your condom to fall off,” Jamie replied.

“So you’re holding it on?” Grace asked, her voice laced with amusement. No wonder Trey was gritting his teeth.

“This isn’t funny, Gracie.” Trey’s words pushed her grin to the forefront.

“Sorry,” she whispered, the word coming out with a giggle.

Jamie didn’t appear to be paying any attention to their banter, his thoughts consumed by his desire. “Push your ass up a little and tell me if this hurts, Grace.”

Contrary to his intentions, his cock was poised not at the entrance to her ass, but her pussy. She shuddered, her laughter dying, but she didn’t refuse when Jamie slowly pushed the head of his cock inside her cunt alongside Trey’s. He paused.

“This will only work until he gets hard,” Jamie said, and Grace was shocked he was able to speak at all. She took a deep breath.

Trey groaned. “If you’re serious about this, you better hurry up, Jamie. That hard cock thing is gonna come sooner than you might like. Can’t believe I’m letting you touch me,” he muttered.

Grace could feel Trey’s dick thickening and knew he spoke the truth. She also thought he wasn’t as turned-off by Jamie’s hand as he pretended. Jamie pressed in the tiniest bit farther, before moving back again. He gave three shallow, gentle thrusts before pulling out completely.

Grace was speechless, breathless and more turned-on than humanly possible. “No,” she said after Jamie retreated.

He leaned forward to kiss her back. “Trust me,” he murmured. “That was about to cross from pleasure to pain very quickly.”

As he spoke, she realized Trey was totally erect once more, his cock filling her to bursting. She nodded her head jerkily twice to let Jamie know she understood.

“I’m still not sure this…” His words drifted away and she appreciated his concern, his care.

“Please.” There was no way she could turn back now. Her body was a live wire, sparking out of control, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to contain the untapped power they’d released.

He didn’t speak again, his cock pressing against her anus, pushing in until the head was lodged inside.

Hiding behind the disguise of a stay-at-home mum of four didn’t fool anyone so now Rhian Cahill has decided to embrace her dark side. Now, Rhian and Mr. Muse spend their days having sex in every way imaginable, as many times as their stamina allows and in any place big enough for two, or three or more. It’s a tough life but someone has to do it. *grin*

Excerpt from Bondi Beach Boys

Sam walked in, his blond hair still damp from the shower, and Nate glanced at the clock

to see if they had time for a quickie. They had thirty minutes until show time, plenty to get his rocks off and remove the raw edge he currently rode.

“Drop your pants.” He growled the words as he stalked across the room.

“Like that, is it?” Sam smiled with that know-it-all grin that always got Nate’s demanding nature riled up.

“Yes. Drop ’em.”

Sam turned his back, pushed his hips back, and wiggled his arse. “Make me.”

Nate almost crash-tackled him to the ground. In record time, he had the button and fly of Sam’s pants undone and the gorgeous cock hiding inside in his hand. He stroked hard, the way Sam liked it. A moan slipped from Sam’s throat and Nate ground his erection into the curve of his friend’s arse.

“I need…”

“I know.” Sam broke from his grasp and pushed his pants down. He always knew how to soothe the savage inside Nate. They’d been friends long before they’d become lovers, and Nate still thanked the woman who’d shown them this other side of themselves. Fumbling with his belt, he struggled to control his trembling fingers.

“Jeez, she’s really got you on edge.” Sam brushed Nate’s hands aside and dispensed with Nate’s trousers.

“Totally.”

“Good. We’re in the same place then.”

“No offense, but I’m gonna pretend you’re her when I bury my cock in your arse.”

“None taken.” Sam slid a condom down his length, sending fire into Nate’s balls and a shudder up his spine. “I’ll be doing the same when I fuck you.”

Nate laughed as he shoved Sam over to the table. “Hold on.”

Sam leaned forward, thrust his arse toward Nate, and gripped the table in front of them. Lining himself up with Sam’s puckered hole, Nate slid forward, his mate’s arse easily taking his thick cock all the way to the balls. He pulled out, pushed in. Hard and fast. Slam after slam, his thighs hit the back of Sam’s as he fucked him until the heat in his balls boiled over and he came in a rush.

“Agh…” The cry tore from his lips and he collapsed on Sam’s back.

“No time for rest yet.” Sam stood up, dislodging Nate from his resting place.

Nate pulled his spent cock from Sam’s still clenching hole. His legs were like rubber, so he turned and leaned his butt on the table. He wrapped his fingers around his softening length and removed the used condom.

“Too tired to stand?” Sam had the know-it-all grin going on again as he rolled a condom down his cock. “I can work with that.”

He grabbed Nate’s ankles off the floor and pushed them up, making him lie back on the table. Nate’s legs were tangled in his pants, but that didn’t stop Sam. He just pushed until Nate kissed his own knees and Sam could step into Nate’s waiting body. The position put his arse in line with Sam’s cock and he soon found himself on the receiving end of a good, hard and fast fuck. Muscles stretched to fit the thick rod driving into him. His sated cock was rejuvenated by the slide of Sam’s erection over his prostate. Much more and he’d be coming again.

As if he’d read his mind, Sam’s hand wrapped around Nate’s rapidly hardening cock and pumped, the harshness of the caress designed to drive him over the edge. Nate might be demanding and rough at times, but Sam liked to prove he could take him down a peg or two, and much to Nate’s pleasure, it seemed as though Sam was of a mind to do just that. His friend slowed the thrust of his cock, but sped up his hand. Nate shoved his pants to his ankles and widened his knees, made it easier for Sam to wank him off. With blinding speed, Nate raced to his second release. Cum flowed from his cock, spurting onto both their stomachs as Sam leaned into him.

“Done now?” Sam asked.

Nate’s hands shook where he held his knees against his shoulders. The tremors of his orgasm continued to roll through him, but he managed a nod.

With his hands now palming the back of Nate’s thighs, Sam proceeded to fuck him. Driving deep, ramming hard, he took what he needed until he shouted out with his own climax.

Valerie Tibbs. Cover artist extraordinaire. It takes more than words to burn up the sheets. My covers are meant to titillate and excite. My dream is to create them full time and maybe…just maybe I’ll have one smexy enough for the Smutketeers.

Remember to place your vote simply by leaving a comment, saying which excerpt (or if you like the covers best!) you found the “smuttiest.”

Welcome to day two of Smutketeer Idol. Be sure to check out the Smutketeers at IH.

International Heat is taking over the Smutketeers’ blog and bringing the HOT stuff. Today, we continue the “auditions” to become the NEXT HONORARY SMUTKETEER!!!

The rules of the game are simple (think American Idol). Simply read each day’s smutty excerpts and in the comments section, place your vote for that day’s smuttiest. On the last day, the winners from the three days of auditions will compete for the top spot and will be crowned HONORARY SMUTKETEER (at least for that day)!

J.R. Patrick is all about the hot man love, whether it be two guys getting it on or three or four…. Let’s just say that the “R” in J.R. Patrick is for raunchy. I’ll let you guess about the J. ;)

Excerpt from Only Yours

Music started. A low throbbing beat that pulsed through the room. On came the stage lights, illuminating the silhouettes of two obviously male—obviously naked and aroused—specimens dancing their asses off behind the curtain. The crowd cheered.

Dre raised an eyebrow at S.J. and then leaned over to speak directly into her ear. “This is the surprise?”

“Part of it,” S.J. shouted over the noise. “From that flush on your face, I’d say it’s doing the job. Keep watching. It gets hotter.”

Dre shifted in his seat. S.J. was right. The dancing was sexy as hell.

After about ten minutes, the music all but disappeared and so did the noise from the audience. Dre could hear a pin drop. Well… he would have been able to if the first dancer hadn’t started sucking the second dancer’s cock, making him pant and moan. The second grasped the first by the back of the head and fucked into his mouth with all the finesse of a man in the throes of passion, which is to say, none. The first stroked his own cock in time with the second’s thrusts.

Oh my fucking God. How hot was this?

They switched and the second returned the favor. Tall and well-muscled, both men had huge cocks, although the first dancer was a bit shorter.

Dre adjusted his slacks to accommodate his hardening cock. After not so much as a twitch for the past six months, he was primed. He spoke to S.J. in an undertone, “I don’t know if I should hug you or kill you for this.”

S.J. whispered back, “You can hug me. Not everyone in here is on a date. I’m sure someone will be more than happy to help you with your lit—” She looked down into his lap. “Big problem. Don’t worry, Mama brought condoms.”

Dre groaned. “It’s decided. I’m gonna kill you.”

S.J. snickered. “Not yet. Things are heating up even more….”

Dre’s eyes returned to the stage.

What the fuck?

Screw heated. The show had gone supernova.

The first dancer was down on all fours. The second dancer knelt behind him, leaned forward, and stuck his tongue in his ass. The stage had to be wired for sound, because the lapping of the man’s tongue echoed through the bar. The first dancer moaned, his hips making furious circles. Dre groaned at the visual and audio stimuli.

Shoot. Was that aloud? Dre looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but everyone appeared transfixed by the on stage action.

It seemed like hours, but moments later, the second dancer drew his mouth away from his partner’s ass and smacked his lips so loudly that each succulent noise caused Dre’s body to shudder. The second dancer reached for a bottle and squirted liquid onto the first dancer’s crack. He held up one finger to the audience and then inserted it slowly into the first dancer’s ass. Dre bit his lip, wishing for a second that he was on stage. The first dancer cried out, writhing around the digit. Dre was right there with him, his cock throbbing in response. The second dancer removed his finger, repeating the demonstration with two fingers, then three. Dre’s lip pulsed; he realized his teeth had dug in and he had to release it before he drew blood.

The crackle of a wrapper opening sounded. The second dancer sheathed himself—one inch at a time.

Oh. My. God. They were going to fuck.

Lexxie Couper is an Australian, a deviant and utterly obsessed with sex. And romance. Especially sexy romance. You know the kind with lots of moaning and whimpering and pleading for more? That kind of romance. Oh, and she writes about her obsession every single day. With hunky, gorgeous, brooding, sarcastic heroes. Usually Australian ones.

Excerpt from Triple Dare

“Ready, Mr. Thorton?” Anna’s low, husky question jerked his stare back to her face, just in time to watch her part her lips and slide them over the purple head of his cock.

“There’s no bed big enough for this,” Rob spoke, skimming a hand down her back and over the curve of her ass. His fingers stopped at the folds of her pussy, exposed to his touch by her position in Joseph’s arms, “and the floor’s a might cold, so we’re going to have to worship your body standing up.”

His statement sent a shard of wanton excitement into Anna’s sex and she felt her juices wet Rob’s fingers. Fingers he slowly, deliberately slid into her folds. Two at once, wriggling them until he couldn’t penetrate her any deeper.

She sucked in a breath through her nose, the scent of her pleasure filling her body, driving her faster to an unexpected orgasm.

Oh, God!

Her pussy clamped shut on Rob’s fingers, constricting on them, squeezing them in fast, powerful pulses.

“Oh, yes,” Rob scissored his fingers inside her sex, plunged them in and out and wriggled them some more, “that’s my girl. Come for me. I want you so fucking wet I could drown in your cream.”

Joseph growled against Anna’s lips at his friend’s words, hauling her closer to his chest as he sucked her tongue into his mouth.

“She’s so wet for us, Hudo.” Rob continued to fuck her pussy with his fingers. “So very, very wet.”

Joseph broke the kiss and stared into her face. “I want her wetter.”

Rob chuckled, a low, dirty laugh. “No worries, mate.”

He slapped her ass. A swift, sharp slap that made her cry out in surprise.

Stinging heat branded her ass cheek, but before the pain could register in Anna’s mind, Joseph pressed his lips to her temple. “Do you want him to kiss it better?”

She nodded, her breath hitching in her throat.

She sensed Rob move beside her, his hand sliding over her butt, caressing the spot he’d smacked until it wasn’t his palm on her skin but his lips.

And then, his lips weren’t on her ass cheek but on her folds, his tongue flicking at her clit, his fingers delving into her slit.

“Does that feel good?” Joseph whispered, his stare holding her still in his arms.

“Yes,” she panted. “Yes.”

“I want you so wet there’ll be very little pain when Rob enters your arse.”

Her heart slammed into her throat, her rock-hard nipples aching. She gazed into his eyes, knowing she should feel something other than absolute trust and blissful rapture. She didn’t.

Rob’s tongue rolled over her clit, already swollen from her last orgasm, and she hissed in a gasp.

“I can’t hold on much longer, Anna.” Raw tension wrought Joseph’s statement into a strangled groan. “My dick is so hard and I want to sink it into your pussy so much.”

“Then do it,” she rasped. “Do it. Please.”

He shook his head. “Not yet. Not until you are ready for both of us.”

As if Rob knew exactly what Joseph wanted, he placed his hands on her ass cheeks and spread them apart, dragging his tongue from her pussy to her anus. Smearing her hole with his saliva and her cream.

She clung to Joseph, a distant part of her mind in awe of his physical strength—he’d held her for what must be a lifetime now—a more elemental part of her mind more aroused than ever by it. “Oh, Joseph.”

It was the first time she’d called his name during their sexual contact and he let out a shaking groan, his eyes clouding with desire. His arms tightened around her and he slanted his lips over her mouth.

Rob laved her anus with his salvia, dipping his thumb into her pussy as he did so. She thrust her hips upward, her inner muscles constricting, another climax mounting. Fast.

It hit her. An explosive tension shuddering through her body.

Bringing with it fresh moisture from her sodden sex.

“Hmmm,” Rob hummed against her ass. “You taste so good. My face is so wet with your come.”

He lapped at her ass, stabbed at it with the point of his tongue, fucking her pussy with his fingers. Smearing her juices to her anus.

“I think she’s ready for us, Joe.”

The statement uttered against her backside made Anna’s ass squeeze tight with a wanton thrill she’d never experienced before. Her heart quickened faster still and she wrapped her arms around Joseph’s neck with desperate need.

She was ready. More than ready.

Without a word, Joseph removed his arm from beneath her knees and her feet hit the floor with a soft thud.

Rob was there immediately. From the time it took to remove his mouth from her ass and straighten to his feet, he’d stripped himself of his snow pants and shirt. She heard a condom packet tear and then he pressed his naked body to her back, smoothing his hands under her thermal. She drew in a shallow breath, the feel of his warm skin on hers almost as wonderful as the feel of his rigid erection nudging the crevice of her ass. He skimmed his palms over her belly, her ribs and breasts, a taunting journey that made her knees wobble before he embraced her in a firm hold and tugged her backward.

The tips of her toes brushed the floorboards a split second before Joseph stepped in front of her—now gloriously, proudly naked, his thick erection stretching the condom he wore—and gathered up her legs, draping her knees over his bent arms. Hooking them in the inside of his elbows.

He met her gaze, a small smile on his lips. “To the hilt,” he whispered.

He moved. Raising her knees higher and leaning into her body with fluid grace. His massive cock first pressed and then parted her folds, separating her sex until, with a groan and a clenching of his jaw, he sank his length into her very core.

“Oh, yes!” She threw back her head, the surreal sensation of being suspended on Joseph’s arms while being impaled on his cock almost driving her mad. She’d never felt anything like it, like she was connected to the world even as she hung above it.

Joseph sucked in a sharp breath, and another, his hips thrusting up, driving him deeper inside her.

“Damn, Hudo,” Rob growled, his lips against Anna’s throat. For a dizzying moment she realized she’d forgotten he was there.

How could you forget? The man has made you come four times in the space of two hours.

“If I don’t…” Rob didn’t finish.

His lips on her neck turned hungry, each kiss growing more wild.

“Touch me, Anna.”

She did as he asked, reaching down between their two bodies to close her fingers around his straining cock.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Feel how hard I am for you. Feel how thick and long.”

She gripped his length a little firmer, all the while drowning in the thrusting strokes of Joseph’s dick in her pussy.

“I’m going to take you soon, Anna,” Rob continued, sliding one hand down her body until he wrapped his fingers over hers. He held his cock with her hand, pumped it once, twice. “Here.”

With a slight shift in the position of his hips, he aligned the domed head of his cock with her sodden, puckered anus. The beads of pre-come anointing his shaft’s tip slicked over her hole, adding to the natural lubrication he’d so thoroughly painted her with.

In response, Anna’s ass squeezed closed. A wicked thrill shot into the pit of her belly, and with it came the undeniable realization she didn’t just want him to, she needed him to.

She lifted her free arm above her head and tangled her fingers in his hair. The musky aroma of her essence was potent on the air. “Now,” she begged through clenched teeth. “Please.”

He groaned, the guttural sound echoed by Joseph.

“This will hurt,” Rob panted, each word as gentle and controlled as she knew he could be, “but only for a moment.”

He pushed his hips upward. Slowly.

Anna’s cry rose in her throat and she stiffened, fear lacing her ecstasy.

“Shhh,” Rob hushed in her ear, just as Joseph leant  into her body, his length burying deeper into her sex, and placed his lips on hers.

“Tell us to stop, Anna, and we will. If you need us to stop…”

She shook her head, the burning sting in her ass radiating through her lower body. It hurt, but underneath the pain, like a blazing sun behind dispersing thunderclouds, was unbelievable pleasure. Intense. Unfathomable.

Rob released his grip on her hand and his cock, smoothing it up over her stomach to cup her right breast. “Take a breath for me, sweetheart.”

She did as he told her, and drew the undeniable scent of Joseph into her lungs.

“That’s it,” Rob’s voice left him on a ragged breath. “I’m going deeper.”

A wave of concentrated, delicious sensations rolled out from Anna’s stretched ass and she tightened her fist in Rob’s hair. “Oh…oh…”

“Fuck a duck, Thorton,” Joseph groaned, stroking his cock in and out of Anna’s sex. “Holy shit, this feel so good.” The muscles in his arms quivered, and for a moment the steady rhythm of his penetrations turned erratic.

The awe-struck claim sent a spear of liquid electricity into Anna’s core. She moaned, any lingering apprehension destroyed by the image of Rob and Joseph together. She drew her knees closer to her body, wanting Joseph to bury himself to the hilt just as he promised.

Wanting Rob to do the same.

“God, I want…” She couldn’t finish the demand. She didn’t need to.

Without uttering a word, the two men drove their cocks into her body, simultaneously filling her, stretching her. Possessing her utterly and completely.

“More,” she ground out the single request, awash in pure rapture.

Lila Dubois is a multi-published, bestselling author of erotic, paranormal and fantasy romance. Having spent extensive time in France, Egypt, Turkey, Ireland and England Lila speaks five languages, none of them (including English) fluently.

Excerpt from Red Ribbon

Sliding the smooth strawberry Popsicle into her mouth, she swirled her tongue around the tip. Filling out that checklist had been one of the sexiest things she’d ever done. There were things on there that scared her and she liked that. There were things that were just exciting, things like ice…

Liz pulled the Popsicle from her mouth, realizing she been sucking it like a cock, she was so aroused.

Tossing it into the sink before she could do something stupid, she bent over the counter, lightly thunking her head on the granite. She needed sex. No, she needed Mark.

Liz returned to the bedroom and took the envelope containing Mark’s checklist from a drawer in her nightstand. She ran her finger along the flap, licked her lips. She hadn’t opened it yet because she was afraid she’d find his answers were the complete opposite of hers. With each day that had passed she was sure that was the reason he hadn’t contacted her—despite their hopes, they weren’t a good sexual match.

Climbing into bed, she settled herself against the pillows with her legs under the covers. With deliberate care she bent the butterfly clasp of the envelope and opened the flap, removing the pages inside.

He’d completed it in blue pen, his handwriting broad and spiky.

Enough stalling, Liz.

She skimmed the disclaimer and instructions at the top of the page. As with her list there was an activity and then a rating system, but the options for rating were different on the Dom version. While hers had ranged from “yes” and “willing to trying” to “no” and “absolutely not,” his categories were “necessary”, “desirable play”, “punishment use”, “willing to try” and “no interest.” Besides “willing to try” there was no overlap in the categories. There wasn’t an off-limits or “absolutely not” category, but that made sense, since Mark had said he’d customized the list. That meant everything on here was something he was at least willing to do. The question then was did her “yeses” match his “necessaries”?

She flipped open to a random page, landing in the Ss.

Activity

Sexual deprivation

Shaving

Spanking

Speculums

Speech Restrictions, what and when…

Spreader bars

Stable (serving in, with or without other submissives)

Stocks

Straitjackets

Strapping

Suspension

One by one she considered each item, and as she did Liz sank lower in the bed, her free hand roaming over her belly and thigh.

Sexual deprivation. Mark had his marked “necessary” while she remembered indicating “willing to try.” She didn’t want to be denied orgasm. She wanted to orgasm over and over again, the way other women talked about, the way magazines said she should. She’d never had that before, because she’d never really been sexually satisfied before. Of course orgasm denial was a big part of BDSM play, and she was being stupid to think otherwise, but she’d never looked forward to that aspect of it. Until Mark. What would it be like if Mark aroused her only to take his hands away?

Liz had been lightly scratching her nails over her panties, but now pulled her hand away and out from under the covers. She squeezed her knees together to alleviate the ache she’d left behind.

She’d be frustrated, as she was now, but she’d also know that he would put his hands back, would and could bring her to orgasm.

Shaving ranked “willing to try” from both of them. Liz wiggled out of her underwear and combed her fingers through the trimmed hair on her sex. She waxed regularly and so knew she was well groomed, but wondered if Mark would like her sex naked and smooth. He didn’t seem like the type to wield a straight razor over her pussy lips, but maybe he’d watch her shave, watch her spread her legs, rub the shaving cream over the lips of her sex.

Her fingers mimicked her thoughts, playing out the fantasy. When her index finger circled her clit she forced herself to pull back and read the next item on the page.

Spanking. He’d underlined “necessary” twice. Mark was going to spank her. He would pull her over his knee, pull down her panties and swat her ass with his big, rough hand while he told her what a bad girl she was.

She had a finger buried deep in her pussy now, her thumb on her clit. Would he spank her as punishment or for his pleasure? The list didn’t tell her. All she knew was that if he called, if he wanted her, she would end up over his knee.

Speculums were an “absolutely not” for her, as she didn’t want to be turned-on every time she saw her gyno, but he’d only listed them as “willing to try”.

Speech Restrictions, what and when… were another “no” for her, but “necessary” for Mark. Liz’s fingers stilled, her arousal fading as she wondered if she’d found the thing that had prevented him from calling her. Maybe he wanted a sub who was quietly obedient and didn’t speak unless ordered to or given permission.

Would it be that bad with Mark?

The traitorous thought whipped through her before she could stop it. Something inconceivable with a nameless, faceless Dom wasn’t as horrifying at the hands of a man she knew and respected. Closing her eyes, Liz let the pages flutter to the floor and groped in her nightstand for her trusty vibrator.

What would it be like to be Mark’s ultra-obedient slave?

She imagined herself kneeling in silky thigh-highs, a breast-baring black corset and a leather collar with a thick ring in the front.

Her legs are held open by a spreader bar. Mark sits in a chair across the room, one leg extended, chin propped on his hand as he watches her. She wants to beg him to touch her but she cannot. To speak out of turn is to risk a brutal strapping session, orgasm denial and loss of his favor.

He rises from his chair, tall and strong in leather pants and vest. Hooking a finger in the ring in her collar he draws her to her feet. Rough palms cover her bare breasts, massing gentling before slapping each. She gasps at the slap and he does it again, harder, fingerprints marring the white mounds.

Outside the fantasy, Liz was gasping and moaning, her fingers thrusting in and out of her sex while she balanced her vibrator against her clit with the other hand. She was sweaty and thrashing under the covers.

Fantasy Dom Mark spins her, forcing her to bend at the waist and positioning her neck and wrists inside stocks. With a frightening thud he lowers the upper piece, locking it in place. Terrified, she wants to cry out but will not disobey her beloved Master.

Hands massage her hanging breasts, slapping and pinching the nipples. Her ass is swatted until it burns, her thighs beaten with a crop. Just when she would beg for forgiveness, beg his pardon for whatever she’d done to earn such punishment, she feels his cock at her sex, the hot, thick length rubbing the length of the sex before finding its position.

Liz came, the vibrations against her clit combined with her fingers thrusting in her sex providing the physical stimulation she needed to match the emotional and intellectual stimulation of her fantasy. She held the vibrator on her clit just past the point of pleasure into the realm of so-good-it-hurts before taking it away.

Panting slightly she lay there, staring at the ceiling. In the sober light of post-orgasm she was embarrassed and ashamed of her ridiculous fantasy. While it had been nothing more than a fantasy, there was no denying the simple truth that there were things that she would do with Mark, or more precisely let Mark do to her, that she wouldn’t with anyone else.

Remember to place your vote simply by leaving a comment, saying which excerpt you found the “smuttiest.”

And now…for something completely different, the Smutketeers and International Heat are holding a blog swap. Be sure to check out the Smutketeers at IH.

International Heat is taking over the Smutketeers’ blog and bringing the HOT stuff. For the next four days, we’re going to “audition” to become the NEXT HONORARY SMUTKETEER!!!

The rules of the game are simple (think American Idol). Each day, different International Heat authors will compete to see who is the smuttiest. This is where YOU THE READER come in. Simply read each day’s smutty excerpts and in the comments section, place your vote for that day’s smuttiest. On the fourth day, the winners from the previous three days will compete for the top spot and will be crowned HONORARY SMUTKETEER (at least for that day-LOL)!

Let the smut commence…

It’s always the quiet ones and Jambrea Jo Jones is no different. Innocent and shy on the outside–sex goddess extraordinaire on the inside. She’ll write you anything your heart desires. From two men hot for each others bods to a man and woman taking it to the next level, Jambrea will make you squirm and reach out for your partner or a cold shower.

From Salvation

Alliance series, book 2

“What are you waiting for, boy? Get over here,” Rock said between clenched teeth.

It was then he realised he was watching from afar, pumping his cock to the rhythm of Se’s blowjob. He scrambled close enough for Rock to grab his shoulders and pull him into a kiss. It wasn’t gentle. Not that he expected it to be. Rock was all man. Every inch of him as hard as his name.

Zander was forced to cling to Rock or fall over. A hand wrapped around his dick and jacked him off. He almost lost it when a wet mouth enveloped him. Rock’s hand cupped his ass and he rocked their bodies together. Zander was a goner. Se’s hand and Rock’s stomach threw him off the ledge and he came harder than he ever had in his life. The stimuli were too much. And he wanted more. Se continued to stroke his cock, sucking him dry. Never had he recovered this fast. Zander was ready for another round. But not before he tasted something other than his new lovers’ lips.

He eased out of Se’s mouth and dropped beside her. He kissed her, tasting his own spunk and Se. It was a lovely combination. The only thing it was missing was Rock’s essence. He would have to see if he could rectify that situation. First things first, Se’s nipples. They taunted him and he needed to sample them. Zander kissed his way down Se’s throat, taking little nibbles here and there. When he reached a nipple, he drew it into his mouth causing Se to buck. Rock held her down for him. God that was hot.

“Someone needs to fuck me,” Se whispered. “God, I need—” she stopped talking and moaned. Zander had bitten down.

“I’ll have to remember that. No need to fill Se’s mouth as long as you’re feasting on her nipples.”

Rock’s words spurred him on.

Se rocked against Rock’s thigh. She was trying to get some friction, but he could see that Rock was teasing her with his fingers too.

Watching Se stroke Rock, and Rock pinch Se’s matching nipple, his other hand buried in her pussy, a sense of right flowed over Zander. The situation, the people, everything fitted. He felt empowered in a way he never had before. He wanted to add his fingers to Rock’s. He walked them down Se’s body until he found her clit and gave it a light tap. She almost came off the bed. He tapped again, before sliding a finger in alongside Rock’s.

“Let me taste,” Rock’s raspy voice insisted.

Zander didn’t hesitate. He pulled his finger free and fed it to Rock.

“Oh. Oh. Rock! Zander!” Se screamed as she fell apart in their arms.

Zander wanted to sink inside her body, but Rock was in position and slid home. Zander couldn’t wait until it was his turn. But until then, he had some exploring to do. Rock released his finger to kiss Se, and Zander got down to tasting his lovers.

My name is Jayne Rylon and I’ve been a Smutketeer at heart ever since I picked up an erotic romance novel (Marly’s Choice) by accident at a half price bookstore.  I devoured Lora Leigh’s Men of August in a single sitting, buying my first ebooks because I couldn’t stand to wait a moment longer than necessary to get my next dose of smexy from that series and I’ve never looked back.

I’ll be honest and say I have at least one flaw as a candidate… I’m such a huge fangirl of the real Smutketeers that I would be jumping around squeezing and dancing and begging to have my books autographed until they grew bored of my antics.  Also, I’m not nearly as nice as these ladies.  When I met most of them in person for the first time at RT2011, I was blown away by their generosity, friendliness and general welcome.  I’m pretty sure I don’t have nearly the grace and social skills needed to be a true Smutketeer.  However… I can handle my naughty.

Okay okay, down to the good stuff…  I deserve to be the next American Idol… wait, wrong show.  I meant, I deserve to be an honorary Smutketeer because my latest completed novel includes all of, but not limited to, the following smutty themes:

-Fisting
-Massive ménage
-Spanking
-Sex machines
-Public sex
-Slave girls
-Slave guys
-A naughty sex drug
-Strap-ons
-A cattle prod
-A live sex show
-Sex in a whirlpool
-More fucking machines
-M/M/F elements
-A smoking hot romance

And much much more… Impressive right?  Just to prove I’m the dirtiest of the dirty bird contestants, here’s an ultra-sneak-preview of Mistress’s Master (Men in Blue Book 3), which will be out on September 6^th.  Smutty reading!

“What’s your name?” The strong submissive met Lily’s gaze when asked a direct question. The shocking sparkle of his eyes reminded her of Jeremy and the potent stare he’d leveled on her two nights before. She could drown in the attention.

“I’m Ryan. At your service, Mistress Lily.”

“Good boy.” She shifted to her right. The other four men understood her intent. They rotated her ninety degrees until she was perpendicular to her starting point and her legs draped over Ryan’s shoulders. The man who’d been at her left supported her shoulders against his buff chest, never missing a beat as he massaged her forehead, cheeks and temples.

Divine.

The three unburdened slaves continued to stroke her body, cupping her breasts, petting her belly and chaffing her arms. Puffs of Ryan’s elevated respiration dusted the lips of her bare pussy.

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” She guided his tongue to her clit with a firm grip on his too-long hair. “That’s nice. Suck my clit.  A little harder. Yes, perfect.”

Lily relaxed, allowing her eyes to flutter closed as Ryan demonstrated impressive skill.

After long minutes of reveling in the pressure building inside, she tapped the long fingers making a circuit from her knee to her hip. “Inside me. Feel how hot my pussy is. For you. All of you.”

The man groaned as he kneeled beside Ryan. The slaves pressed close in order to fulfill her wishes. She enjoyed the manscape as their defined pectoral muscles gleamed with a light sheen of sweat.

The second slave notched two digits at the entrance of her pussy and began to work them inside. “Yes, like that.”

“You’re delicious, Mistress.” Ryan redoubled his licking at the moisture coating her pussy. His tongue flickered over the other man’s knuckles.

“Would you like a taste?” She tilted her head toward the second slave as she observed the man tunneling deeper within her sheath on every pass.

“May I?” He looked as if afraid to hope. Who had treated these men so poorly? She made a mental note to offer to incorporate them into her personal stable.

“Of course.” She interjected as his fingers neared his mouth. “But I’d prefer you to take your sample from Ryan’s lips.”

He hesitated, debating.

“That’s not an order.” She wouldn’t force either of the men to violate their boundaries. “Merely a statement of my preference.”

Ryan lifted his head from her drenched folds. He nodded at the man studying his glistening lips and chin. “If you want to, Ben…”

Ben eroded the distance between them, tentatively extending his tongue. He touched the tip of the thick muscle to Ryan’s parted lips and licked. A teeny taste. His lashes fluttered, and he groaned. He returned for seconds, this time sealing their mouths firmly.

Lily studied the men as they devoured each other, battling for supremacy. Few things ranked as high as witnessing two hard, sexy men kiss, especially when they did it to please her.

She shivered.

“Very nice.” She regulated the breathy quality of her praise. “Now, finish what you’ve started. Make me come then you can play with each other if you’re interested.”

Their instant enthusiasm brought a grin to her lips. The men massaging her drove her insane with gentle swipes across her belly and breasts. “Suck my nipples.”

The men not holding her head or perched between her knees dipped down and teased the hard tips of her breasts. They licked, nibbled and suckled until her toes curled.

She couldn’t hold on to the whirlwind of desire. She opened her eyes and met the adoring gaze of the man supporting her neck. “Kiss me.”

He obeyed her passionate hiss, allowing her to part his lips with her tongue. She coaxed him to explore the recesses of her mouth, enjoying the minty taste she sucked from his mouth when pleasure expanded, radiating outward from her pussy.

“Mistress Lily is coming.” The man burrowing his fingers beneath Ryan’s oral manipulation informed his brothers. “She’s squeezing me tight. So tight.”

She rode his hand and Ryan’s face until every last drop of satisfaction had been wrung from her body. Their cocks must have ached from the persistent pressure in them. None of the five asked for relief.

Lily hummed as she scooted toward the wall, bracing her back on the cool surface. She patted the space between her thighs. “Hop up here, Ryan.”

He leapt onto the table with the grace of a jungle cat. She nudged his shoulder until he understood what she had in mind. He spun, lying between her thighs, his shoulders dwarfing her abdomen where they rested against her heated skin.

The slave cuddled into her embrace. She brushed the hair from his brow and petted his face as he leaned into her touch. “Very nice, sweetheart. Would you like some help with your pretty hard-on?”

“Yes, please.” His ass flexed, thrusting his pelvis upward. “Let me come for you, Mistress.”

“Oh, you will.” She smiled at the men ringing them. “All of you.”

When Ryan reached for his cock, she stopped him with a curt, “No.”

His hand dropped to his hip instantly.

“Ben, stroke him.” The other man bit his lip but reached out tentatively, surrounding his fellow submissive’s dick with thick fingers. “Very nice. Now, you…”

She tipped her chin at the man beside Ben. “He shouldn’t be left out of the fun, should he?”

“No, ma’am.” His southern accent amplified her grin. Adorable.

“Help Ben.”

The slave didn’t pretend to balk. He wrapped his supple, lotioned hand around Ben’s impressive shaft and began to glide it up and down. Two sets of male grunts floated through the room. She nodded at the other three men. They moved in unison, each gripping the cock of the man beside him.

“Close the circle, Ryan.” She nibbled his ear, momentarily drawing his attention from the pleasure Ben gifted him with. The long, slow glide of the slave’s hand from root to tip on his erection had to feel phenomenal. No one knew better than another man how to stroke dick.

When Ben concentrated his undulating fingers on the oozing head of Ryan’s cock, Ryan latched on to the stiff, waving shaft of the man to his right. He linked them all in a ring of pleasure.

Lily sighed and rubbed her spread pussy on Ryan’s flexing back. His knotted muscles made a nice pad for stroking her clit. The sight of five impressive male specimens surrendering to their lust at her command did more to rocket her toward orgasm than the squirming of Ryan’s velvety tongue had.

Their cocks strained, growing more rigid and defined, darker as blood pumped between their legs. Pre-come bubbled from their balls, adding to the slippery sounds interspersed with grunts and soft curses from the cohorts.

“Who will be first?” Lily panted when the pace of their strokes sped up as though by mutual agreement. Each man communicated his rising need through his attention to his neighbor.

Ryan shuddered in her hold.

She clutched his chest as it bellowed with his pants.

“Maybe me. Close. So close. Please, Mistress. Please, Ben.”

Lily smiled at the man stroking Ryan’s cock when he looked to her for guidance.

“Whenever you’re ready. All of you.” She struggled to appear calm when their surrender to her wishes set her ablaze. “Make sure you come on Ryan. I want to see your pleasure spilling over him.”

As though they found the idea as appealing as she did, the men lost all reserve. One by one they tipped their heads back and roared. The first man to surrender to orgasm shuffled closer, as tight as he could get to the table. His partner aimed the purple head of his cock at Ryan, who looked like a very unvirginal human sacrifice.

Come dribbled from the tip of his cock. The meager display disappointed her insatiable libido a tiny bit. Until she realized it was just the warm up.

Jess Dee used to be a sweet, kind and well-behaved wife and mother—until she discovered erotic romance. Now she likes nothing more than to lose herself in the scandalous world of love and sex (and not necessarily in that order.) If you want her, you’ll find her hiding in her office, tapping out yet another hot-as-hell ménage scene.

Raising the Stakes

(Three of a Kind, Book 2)

As Des watched, Meg’s eyes closed, her hips jerked and her inner walls flexed around his cock, once, twice, a third time. She emitted a long, low moan, contracted the muscles of her pussy and…

Came.

She fucking came, on his cock, thinking about Alex.

Only this time the convulsions were not quick and sharp. They were long and languorous and went on and on. Pissed off as he was, Des could not keep still. Damn it! He pulled out and thrust back into her, his cock swamped by her climaxing pussy. By God, it felt unbelievable. Unfuckingbelievable.

He drove into her again and again, unable to stop. Her climax, brought about by another man, was going to make him come too. Hard.

Back and forward he rocked, plunging into her repeatedly. Her walls grasped him, caressed him, called him back. He was out of control, moving too slow, too fast, too soft, too hard.

God, she felt amazing. Slick and wet and tight and fanbloodytastic.

She cried out his name and Alex’s, and Alex answered, calling her name. Still she climaxed, her pussy undulating around him, begging for his release.

He couldn’t stop it, no longer wanted to. Trapped in her convulsing channel, he came. So fucking hard he thought he might have a stroke.

He emptied himself deep inside her, the orgasm every bit as mind-blowing as he’d ever fantasized. He came inside his best friend. Inside the woman who’d climaxed around his cock while imagining it belonged to her other lover.

Implausible. Impossible. And fucking incredible. The most unbelievable orgasm ever.

He collapsed on top of her as the final spasms in her pussy died away, and she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight.

Long moments passed in her arms, in heaven, before a hand pulled at his shoulder.

Alex.

“Move over.”

Every instinct yelled no, but Des forced himself to reconsider. Alex had shared, Meg had shared. So far, he was the only selfish ass in the room. Much as it went against every grain of his being, he too had to share. Had to give Alex the access he required to Meg.

Des dragged his postclimactic dick from her pussy, each movement extreme torture. Exhausted, he pushed himself off the couch and collapsed on his butt on the floor, leaving the way open for Alex.

Alex turned her slightly towards him, then he knelt, naked, on the floor beside Des. He leaned over to brush his lips over hers.

Meg smiled. “Hey.”

“Hey, baby. You doing okay?”

“Oh, yeah. More than.”

“Was it good?”

She sighed. “So very, very good.”

“Show me.”

“Hmmm?”

Alex was hard, his cock standing erect and proud. “Show me what he did to you, baby. I wanna see.”

Des swallowed. He’d never have considered looking, but now that Al brought it up, damn it, he also wanted to see.

“Anything you want.” Meg smiled her Meg-a-watt smile and opened her legs to Alex’s gaze.

Des stared, dazed, at her puffy pussy.

Alex groaned, drawing Des’s attention.

He looked up at the man.

Alex’s eyes burned. His cock thumped against his stomach.

Meg moaned breathlessly before his heated gaze.

Des watched Alex. Couldn’t take his eyes off him.

“God, your pussy’s so wet.” Alex licked his lips. “So pink and swollen. It’s pulsing, over and over, leaking juice onto your thighs.”

Meg raised her knees higher, spread her legs wider.

“Was he that good?” Alex asked.

Meg whimpered. “Better.”

Des’s chest expanded.

Alex nodded. “I can see. Did you come hard?”

“Very,” Meg wheezed.

“Good for you, baby,” Alex praised her.

“Very good for me.” Meg chuckled softly, telling them both she’d deliberately misunderstood.

Before her laugh died down, Alex buried his face between her legs.

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