Friday Eve Snippet – A Question of Love

For the first time in ages, I’m actually remembering to blog. (Luckily – or I’d have Viv after me with a sledge hammer.)

Very excited to post a snippet from my newly contracted book, A Question of Love. It’s releasing in November at Samhain, and I have not begun edits. So please forgive me for any massive grammatical errors or stupid spelling mistakes.

Jess

A Question of Love

(The sequel to A Question of Trust)

 His upper lip twisted. “I just want to know if you love him.”

“Why? What difference does it make?”

“It make a shitload of difference. Because if you do love him, I won’t do this.”

“Do wh—?”

Her question was cut off mid-word. Gabe swooped forward and caught her mouth with his in a fierce kiss. He gave her not a second to object. Tina was aware only of three things. The slamming of a door, a sense of weightlessness as he hauled her off the ground and held her in a tight, all-encompassing embrace, and the sheer glory of his tongue sweeping past her lips, filling her mouth and showering her taste buds with a thousand drops of heaven.

God, he tasted good. Like the long forgotten sugar of a childhood treat. Now that she’d sampled it again she only wanted  more. More, more, more.

Instinct took over. She wound her legs around his waist and kissed him back, licking into his mouth, desperate to devour every last ounce of sweetness. Her nipples tightened as they pressed against the solidness of his chest, and she wound her arms around his neck.

Her groin clenched as her clit ground against his stomach, and she whimpered into his mouth.

He wrenched his lips from hers. “Say it,” he rasped. “Tell me you don’t love him.”

She was incapable of speech. All she wanted was the heat of his mouth back on hers. She sought his lips blindly, found them and locked her mouth to his. His hands were on her ass, molded to her cheeks. The heat from his palms scorched her straight through her jeans. He kneaded her butt, pulling her cheeks apart as far as they’d go within the confine of her denims and then pushing them back together so the string of her thong scraped against her skin. As he kneaded he pushed harder against her, massaging her intimately with his belly.

Again he pulled back from her kiss. “Damn it, Tiny. Tell me you don’t love him.” His eyes were scrunched closed.

She nipped his jaw.

“S…say it.” He dipped her lower, introducing her clit to his rock hard erection, rubbing her against it until she yelped as heat flooded her pussy.

Fuck, she could climax just like this.

“W…want to make you come, T.” He thrust his groin against hers repeatedly, sending flaming darts of pleasure shooting straight into her. “Want you to explode in my arms. Just tell me you don’t love the fucker. Please.”

“Don’t…don’t love…him.” She ground down hard against his cock, her clit a mass of sensitive nerve endings. “Ended things…this…oh, Jesus…morning.”

His growl of satisfaction echoed through her ears and he bucked wildly against her. “Now,” he ordered, as his denim encased cock seemed to grow against her. “Come…” He continued his frenzied thrusting, driving her insane beyond comprehension. “…Now.”

(Remember – November from Samhain.)