Mr. and Mrs. Monster (11 page)

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Authors: Kelly Ethan

Tags: #Erotic Romance Fiction

BOOK: Mr. and Mrs. Monster
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She panted as she pushed herself against him, using her powerful thighs to lever herself up and down, trying to extend the powerful wanting, craving, that boiled inside her. She dug her claws into his backside, causing him to jerk and rock mindlessly against her. She began to tremble, fighting the orgasm. Fighting to extend the feeling of balancing on the edge of passion.

Damien growled and sank his own lengthening fangs into Kyla’s upper breast. She came with a violent shout. All nerve endings raw, exposed. Craving more. Damien thrust then roared like a lion instead of the wolf he was.

Kyla collapsed against him. She swore she’d blacked out for a few moments after they hit the ground. Tremors rocked both of them. Damien rolled to his side and pulled Kyla in tight, spooning her close to him.

“Who knew you were a snuggler?” she managed to gasp. “Do you suck your thumb as well at night?” Kyla was glad no sign of her volcanic eruption showed in the strength of her voice. She’d never hear the end of it otherwise.

“Hush, evil wolf, or I might just find something else to shut your mouth with.”

“Promises, promises, but it’s all about the follow-up.”

He reached for her. Slid his hand down her arm until he clasped her tightly. “Well, get used to it. After this fiasco, I’ve decided I should hang around for the next few centuries and keep an eye on you. With the amount of trouble you get into, you need a partner.”

Fighting down the need to retaliate at the slur on her capabilities, she focused on Damien.
Partner indeed…
“Maybe I could stand it for a little while. As long as you know who’s on top.”

Kyla gave up the fight and pressed in for a kiss. Her lips softly lingered on his, and Damien’s breath fanned over her skin like a gentle breeze. Shivering, she pulled back and stared at him, considering. “Hang on. Was that a proposal, wolfman?”

He smiled and shifted her more fully into his embrace. “Guess it all depends on the answer, doesn’t it?

Kyla flashed her teeth in a bared grin and flexed her nails sharply against his shoulders.

“Just call us Mr. and Mrs. Monster.”

 

 

Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:

 

Vegas Mythbehaving: Mr. Muse

Kelly Ethan

 

Excerpt

 

Chapter One

 

 

“She caressed his strong, iron shaft with her delicate virgin fingers, all the while trembling in pleasurable terror.”

Missy snorted in disgust at her purple prose. Damn it, this sex stuff wasn’t easy—especially when you’d split with your cheating husband. Besides, what was the big deal? A stuck his appendage in B and most of the time, B faked it.

Resting her head in her hands, Missy tried to picture something romantic.
Anything!
Hot sold books. Sales meant money in the bank and security. She thumped her head on the desk. “Heat, sizzle. Vavoom. Think, Missy.”

Walks by the beach, chocolates, flowers…
Argh.
None of it made
her
want to rip her clothing off.

Her agent had demanded hot sex scenes. Sizzle sold and her normal, close-the-bedroom-door scenes weren’t selling in the current market. One reviewer went as far as to call her an old prude.
Old.
So she’d gone ahead and tried to put the sizzle into her writing. Now the damn book wouldn’t flow right.

Anyway, after her divorce, what did she know? The only orgasms that raced her way were the ones her vibrator, Mr. Happy, gave her.

“Okay, girl, suck it up and get on with it.” Missy started again, but her purple prose sat there blinking, mocking her. Staring up at the beige roof above her, she sent a mental prayer to the heavens.
Please, please, send a Muse here. Because unless I can write scorching sex scenes, I’m out of a job.

Breathing deeply, she rested her hands on the keys, closed her eyes and let the words flow out of her mouth.

“The blunt head of his hard, twitching erection drew her. Mouth moistening, she imagined slaking her thirst with the single bead of cum that glistened on the head of his cock. His hand sought her, parting the folds of her center—delving deep inside. First one finger, then another. She arched her back and drove his fingers deep. His wet thumb stroked her round and round.

“Her entire passage, soaked in desire, released the musky scent of heaven into the air. She clenched in mini paroxysms of pleasure. An interlude to the main concert. He flipped her over until she lay flat on her stomach, submissive to his dominant. His teeth stroked her backside and his finger disappeared to be replaced by his heated mouth and lips. She throbbed like a drum when his mouth parted her and his rough tongue thrust savagely inside. A high-pitched scream ripped out of her. He suckled hard and she came apart in his arms, crying his name.”

Missy breathed heavily and stared at what she’d written.
“Oh. My. God.”

She scanned the passage again. Where had that come from? She’d never experienced that sort of release in her life, let alone written about it. How on earth…?

She noticed something else. Her panties were completely soaked. It’d been six straight months without sex and almost two years without good sex. She had to be repressed if only a couple of paragraphs could have her like this. Without her brain consciously giving the order, she ran her hand across her breasts, lingering on her nipples. The plain cotton of the sports bra rubbed against her skin and caused her breath to shorten. She eased her other hand down her body and under her panty line.

Moving her fingers in a rapid rhythm, she arched her hips. All thoughts of her cheating husband, her manuscript and Mr. Happy, her vibrator, evaporated. She throbbed in time to the movement of her fingers and came in hard bursts of pleasure.

The feelings were so intense, for a moment she imagined a tall, dark, long-haired man standing to the side of her with his hands clasped around his large erection.
Wow
, she was more in need of a good fuck than she’d thought if make-believe men were appearing.

Her chest rising and falling like she’d run a marathon—an orgasmic one—Missy slumped forward onto the desk, knocking her keyboard and wiping the work on the page. “Shit, I forgot to save. I guess I’ll have to write it again.”

Giggling, she twitched her clothes back into place and settled herself to write the scene again. Who needs a man when you can have a good old-fashioned hand job? Now if she could keep it up for the rest of the book…

 

* * * *

 

Keeping it up wasn’t a problem. Telling it to stay was.

Eric Elikonas stared at his offending body part standing to attention like a proud soldier. Inspire her to erotic heights and get her to write her novel. That’s all, they said…easy. But he was the one as horny as a shade in the underworld.

Filling in for his sister, Erato, while she was on maternity leave was supposed to be his vacation from teaching. Being a high-school English teacher in Vegas was fun, but every so often, he needed a holiday. He’d thought his sister’s Muse gig an easy one. Inspire one to pen an erotic poem or story, fun.
Not
. This was a family job anyway. Their mother had been the first Muse of erotic writing and his sister had happily taken over the job when it had come time. Both women swore only their family could do this job. The other Muses had their gifts, but their family was all about sex. He didn’t want to inspire others just to write sexy stories—he wanted to inspire love of the written word in everyone. Although he loved the written word, he’d only ever wanted to teach others. No Muse gig for him, but he was happy to help out if Era was on leave. She’d transferred her erotic Muse powers over to him for the course of her maternity leave and he would hand them back as soon as she’d had her baby.

Instead, he’d inspired the writer to masturbate. Disgust at his failure tore at him. Damn it. He’d never failed at anything in his centuries of life. It was his sister’s job to inspire. He was only a teacher and sadly, his inspiration skills were rusty when it came to erotic romance writers.

He turned to glare at his client. Missy Duncan, a bodice-ripping romance writer without the bodice-ripping. Her other two novels had sold poorly and she’d been told to spice it up, but had been struggling when she’d called for a Muse. Enter Eric, Mr. Sex-Scenes-Are-Us, staring at the most desirable woman he’d ever seen—and that said a lot when you saw Greek Goddesses every day.

Her short blonde hair spiked upward in jagged clumps and her cupid bow lips glistened. Blue eyes twinkled out at him, encouraging him to play, and her curves called to his body. He’d grown up in a time when the women were real and packed a punch. Every time he saw a skinny woman, he wanted to shove a burger at her. He loved small women with meat on them. Missy only came up to mid chest, so she must only be a squirt above five feet, but height didn’t matter when they were horizontal.

“Damn it.” Cursing, Eric clothed himself with a thought just in case the client saw him. When his delectable client’s head shot up, he backed away. In this form he couldn’t be seen, but could be heard. His sister had giggled when she’d told him the job had to be done
au natural
. Naked! Who the heck went to work in the buff? He glanced over at Missy and smirked.
Okay, maybe I didn’t do too badly.

Frantically typing away with a maniacal grin, she chuckled every now and then. He smirked. He had certainly inspired her…

A sense of foreboding slammed into him with the power of a Mack truck. Eric shuddered and straightened.
Something’s wrong.

Clenching his teeth, he focused on the only piece of furniture in the room. Missy’s computer. He opened his senses.

Missy formed large in his sight, her desk looming behind, dominating, and overpowering her. The outline of the computer wavered, gray and indistinct…

Until Missy used it, then it radiated black hate. The computer had been booby-trapped. Someone wanted to hurt Missy…

And it was about to go off.

Reacting without thought, he lunged forward and grabbed her by the shoulder. Ignoring her squeak of shock, he scooped her up into a firefighter’s lift and bounded through her house, frantically trying to reach the front door before the computer, house
and
her body exploded. His mother might have been a Greek Muse, but all that meant for her offspring was longer life and quick healing abilities. His sister could inspire her charges with sweet whispers in their ears to write epic erotic poems and stories but he couldn’t influence anyone. His students were a prime example of that. Reaching the door, he flung it opened and threw them both through the opening. The house roared its displeasure. Hitting the ground with a heavy thump, he groaned when Missy’s full weight landed on him. He loved curvy women, but not when they were flying through the air. Flipping her over, he covered her with his body and prayed the entire house didn’t land on them. Semi immortal beings survived lots of things, but burning, flying Las Vegas houses were probably not one of them.

With an explosive boom, the computer and the front of her house disintegrated. Debris and household items flew everywhere. Blazing projectiles fired over their heads. Eric pressed himself tighter into the warm, soft body below him. His cock—which had a thought process of its own—stirred in its nestled position between her thighs.

Thank the Gods he was wearing clothing, not to mention still invisible. One of his sister’s side gifts as an erotic Muse was to have the ability to clothe and unclothe herself with just a thought, a skill he’d already found useful. She preferred to work in her skin—maximum impact for her charge. Era used her gifts and presence to inspire others to write. She used mental suggestions and sent erotic thoughts to her client and used her bare skin close to her clients to help foster…that loving feeling. She could have done the job with clothing, but it wasn’t as effective. Eric shook his head. She also liked getting naked, probably why she was on maternity leave. She always thought he was too straitlaced to be the offspring of an erotic Muse. She’d probably told him to be naked for a bit of sibling payback. To keep the peace he’d do what she asked. Besides, as long as he kept in control of Erato’s Muse gifts, he wouldn’t shock his client with his nudity. Hopefully she’d put this entire episode down to stress?

Missy moaned and he noted the dull blue of her eyes as she stared up at the empty space above her.

“Oh. My. God. Look at my house. What the hell happened and who dragged me out?”

Eric tried to lever himself and his cock off her body, not getting far before she screeched and ducked.
What the hell?
He glanced over his shoulder to see why she’d freaked out, but before he focused, something slammed into the back of his head.

Jagged fire seared through him. It ripped his sight away in a blaze of scorching pain. Eric’s control over his invisible, clothed form wavered and his consciousness shattered.

Shit
, his sister was gonna be pissed.

 

 

Order your copy here

 

 

About the Author

 

 

Kelly Ethan enjoys writing paranormal and urban fantasy romance.

 

No matter the genre, Kelly loves kick-ass and sarcastic heroines who like to save the day and the hero.

 

Writing is her outlet for madness. She has worked as a library assistant and reviewed category romance novels. She moves regularly around Australia every few years and is a supernatural/paranormal TV junkie. She inhales paranormal, erotica, urban fantasy, science fiction and fantasy, middle grade, young adult, and military spy thrillers.

 

Email:
[email protected]

 

Kelly loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at
http://www.totallybound.com
.

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