The Outcast has won a Silver IPPY award for erotic romance, and I couldn't be more excited! I love all the heat and steam in this book. In order to celebrate I thought I'd share a scene for you to enjoy and see what heat rating you felt it deserved. Enjoy!
Chapter 14 excerpt
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Fabian holds himself above me suspended on his arms, muscles bunching in my peripheral vision, his ropey body sporting the imprints of where I’ve mapped his tattoos, traces of honey on his chest. His eyes are fixed on my face, sweat and honey sticking us together, and his hair is a halo of riotous curls as I’ve wound the strands around my fingers over and over again. I’m buzzing with distracted desperation. The sheets are oily. We’ve been here for hours, and he’s taken me close to the edge time and time again. I run my hands down some scratches on his sides and follow the ridges of his abdomen, the
dark curling hair between his legs. His distended cock distracts me, and I start to wrap my hand around it, but he shakes his head, batting my hand away.
“I’ll come if you touch me, Kate,” he mumbles, his voice gritty and coarse like he’s holding on by the slightest thread.
I slide my hand over his thigh and in, and his eyes widen, thinking I’m disobeying him, but I cup his balls, stroking behind them, and he fixes his gaze on the wall above my head as he grinds his teeth. My other hand locks around his hip as I pull him forward widening my legs. I’ve tried several times to coax him inside me tonight: Is he going to allow it now?
He groans, bending to kiss me. “Don’t. Just … this is … I can’t …” He sucks in a long breath. “Christ, I don’t know what I want.”
I tug at him until his length is pressing against my wet folds, and he closes his eyes, swallowing. Then he rests his forehead against mine, opening his eyes, and I stare at their soft gray, the black in the center, his pupils blown wide.
“You’re drenched.”
I want to say something that might tempt him to push forward, but my mind is blank, floating with the tide, drowning in sweat and skin. We both watch as he grips his cock, and it strikes me that he’s handling himself almost gingerly, so I grin up at him and his eyes crinkle at the edges in return: a smile and a grimace.
“I think I’m a bit wound up.”
The cute vulnerability of that: My heart takes off at a gallop. He’s such a surprise in bed. He’s tender and slow, but dictatorial too. My God, I want to give him every relief I can.
He pushes forward pressing on my mound and I reach down to move him so he can press right where I want him. My fingers brush the tip of his shaft, and he grinds his teeth.
“Fucking hell, Kate.”
When I tip my hips, his cock slips over my clit. He stretches out, leaning over and pulling a condom out of the nightstand, going up on his knees. Thank God. He rolls it on, wincing. Then he’s back down and moving lower, finding my entrance with his cock but sliding back up again; pushing forward to press against me. After all the torture, to have direct pressure there gives me tremors down my legs. He smirks and repeats the movement, once, twice, and I’m shuddering, scrabbling at the damp skin of his hips. He slides back down again, this time holding himself unmoving in my opening. So, I relax my knees
and rest my feet on his calves.
“Holy shit,” he says and starts a rocking motion backward and forward just inside, just out, and I arch with the pressure and the stretch, pushing my breasts into his chest, gasping as I lift my head and my lips slide clumsily across his jaw. He instantly dips his head and nips my lower lip, tongue soothing along after his teeth.
Just in, just out.
“Oh, Kate. Fuck,” he mumbles into my mouth.
He’s going in a bit farther each time, teasing me open, and I can’t believe after the hours of foreplay that we’re actually doing this now. I shift my legs up over his waist, opening up more, wrapping around him like bindweed until I can’t tell who’s moving, him or me. Our hips lock together, and his mouth is all over my face, smearing and urgent, taking my face in his hands as he moves all the way inside and then he stills, forehead against mine, fingers wrapped around my jaw, my temple. He kisses down my nose; I know it’s costing him to stay still. Is he doing it to relax me or …?
“This is incredible,” his voice breaks, and I can hardly answer him. Are we stopping now? Is he going to pull out? I grab his backside to keep him where he is, and he smiles against my cheek.
“Fabian, please,” I groan.
“Good,” he says, and the smug ring of his tone lights a fire in me, so I slap his ass. His eyes widen, and he props himself up on his arms as he starts to move in earnest, pulling right out and thrusting back in again, watching my face intently. But I lose him as my eyes flutter and close.
“Open your eyes!” he says. “Goddamn it, Kate. After all this I want to see you fall.”
His hand sneaks between us, and he’s gently rubbing my clit and my eyes open on a gasp. And he’s nodding at me. The intensity of staring at each other like this, with the half smile on his lips as I tighten up all the way along his cock, getting closer as his hips jerk and stutter as he pushes into me.
“Yes, Kate. Sweetheart, yes.”
The endearment sends a sharp stab through my chest.
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I hope you enjoyed that. And if you'd like to read about the playing with honey that comes before this or the rest of The Outcast, you can find it here.
Do you want free access to exclusive content and short stories? Then sign up to my mailing list by clicking the button below!
Love,
Eve
P.S. Here's The Outcast on the IPPY site, alongside two other award winners for you to enjoy!
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