Lacy Danes


Jan 6
2009
A Red Hot Valentines Day Releases Today!!

It has been getting some wonderful reviews.

~~ RT Magazine Says Four Stars ~ “All these stories are sure to make for a hot Valentine’s Day.”

~~ Harriet Klausner says “These are four well written erotic romantic novellas that range from historical to fantasy to contemporary, but share the title of A RED HOT VALENTINE’S DAY collection. Fans who relish their sweets served differently will want to read this heated holiday anthology.”

Pick up a copy at any local books store or at Amazon.

Here is an unedited taste of my story:

Torn Desires by Lacy Danes.

Alistair sat across from Anne in her overdone plush carriage. He shook his head and stared out the window. How in damnation had she talked him into coming with her to the country, to the estate of a gentleman, whom he didn’t know?

He inhaled long and deep through his nose hoping to settle the unease in his stomach.

“Stop scowling, Alistair. This is supposed to be relaxing for you. Remember?”

Oh, so that was the reason. He needed to relax. How this was going to relax him he certainly had not a clue. He found fencing and playing cards relaxing. Not inhaling the smell of cows and talking wife business of Anne’s.

“Indeed my memory is sharp, Anne. I simply do not have a clue how you got me into this carriage on the way to a place I have no desire to be.”

“Well, dear. If you don’t remember, then I shall have to remind you.” She reached across the seat and placed her hand on his cock. “Besides, you said you would protect me and my girls, as Lord Quinton has a reputation.”

Protection? Indeed. He would protect anyone of the girls he bedded, and Anne certainly knew how to use her hands… His cock flooded, stretching the skin taunt. “Mmmm. I suppose I should stop thinking with my pego because this trip I have the feeling will drive me daft in the attic. Did you smell the cows as we passed that last farm?” Bile rose in his throat just at the thought of it.

Anne’s fingers undid the buttons to his breeches and her knowing hand slid inside, freeing his hard erection.

He shifted his hips and pressed his need toward her. Futter in the carriage would make things only marginally better, but better was the only way to go.

Her hand wrapped about his shaft and she gripped. His shoulders relaxed and he closed his eyes letting her do what she was so good at.

“Only have a few moments before we arrive, Alistair. So I will not be able to give you a proper release. Do you still wish me to continue?”

“Right you will, and you will give me release if I have to keep you in the carriage with the footmen rushing about.”

“You rogue.” She hissed as her lips came down on his cock and sucked him all the way back deep into her throat.

He fisted his hands on the seat, then slid them up into her hair. He grasped her head and thrust up, controlling the stroke and the depth of her oral delights.

Her tongue swirled and saliva drizzled down his length. “Uh, Uh.” Each press into her mouth sent pleasure pulsing through his soul. This is what he lived for. This is what relaxed him and was the only thing Anne provided him with. Well that and friendship…and for him that was all he knew.

“Uh, Uh.” Her tongue fluttered into the eye of his head. His buttocks clenched and his legs jerked. He wanted to be buried deep in her cunt, making her scream so the footmen heard. But he knew better than to ask that of her on this trip. Besides, she certainly didn’t have a sponge in on a carriage ride to a visit a client.

“Take me deep, Anne.” She slid forward and he pressed her head down all the way until the soft flesh on the back of her throat touched the tip of his cock head.

She gagged.

“Uh…yes.” He wanted to thrust deep into her. “Sit back and lay on the seat so I can thrust into your mouth, Anne.”

She slid back, her black hair amazingly still pinned up in perfection. He never understood how she did that. He kneeled down on the floor of the cab and put one of his feet up on the bench she lay on.

She licked her lips and opened her mouth. His cock still glistening from her saliva, twitched, and he placed the tip to her plush lips. She angled her head and he slid into her.

Each press, his thrusts grew harder and faster. Her lips glided over his hardness like oiled flesh. The light futtering taps of her tongue flicking all about his peg made his seed rise quickly. Anne knew exactly how to please him. He braced his hands on the wall of the cab.

His buttocks clenched. Anne groaned. The vibrating sensation pushed him over the edge. His head grew light and his sack tingled. A startling quick halt pulled the carriage to an abrupt stop, tossing him back from Ann’s sweet depths and onto the carriage seat he had resided on. His cock glistened with Anne’s saliva and his muscles clenched on the verge of release.

“Damn it. What is going on?” His cock twitched and he ground his teeth in outrage at the denial of his spend.

Anne laughed and sat up on the carriage seat. “I am uncertain, Alistair.”

His blood raged and all thought concentrated on his twitching peg.

“Bo! Come here Bo! Get out of the carriage’s way!” A woman’s voice came from outside the carriage.

A dog barked and barked.

“Bo! Come here Bo!”

“Damnation. A stupid dog denied me my pleasure.”

Alistair hastily buttoned up his breeches and sprung to the door. He pushed it open and hopped down. Mud spattered up his boots and his pantaloons. He rolled his eyes and blew out a tense breath. Where was that blasted mutt? His hands fisted in want to strangle that dog.
He strode forward.

“Ma’am, please remove yourself from the road. We need to pass.” The driver’s shrill voice pierced Alistair’s ears.

“No worries, Jenks. I shall remove her and the mutt myself.” His teeth ground together as all the pleasurable sensations he had raging through his body turned to anger.

He rounded the last of the four horses. There running about the road was a woman with dark brown hair pinned up. She ran chasing after a small black-and-rust-colored puppy.

The scene, if he had not just been denied his pleasure, would have made him laugh. She chased after the mutt. The mutt ran from her. Her face, a delicious shade of scarlet, either from embarrassment or from exertion, shot heat through his gut.

“I am so sorry, sir. If I could catch him, I would remove him myself.”

“Stop chasing him. He thinks it is a game,” Alistair growled.

She continued as if she had not heard him, which was a distinct possibility. Women often paid him no mind. He strode forward and wrapped his arms about her firm waist.

She jumped and pulled away from him as he hoisted her up into the air. “Wh–what are you about?” Her legs and arms struggled and thrashed thudding against his frame.

An utterly feminine floral scent filled his senses and all of his muscles locked. Her thighs brushed along his front and her calf firmly rubbed his pego.

His cock wept in his trousers and his balls contracted. Insufferable! Damnation! He was too close to spending. A slight strain developed in his sack. He shifted uncomfortably.

He didn’t even truly know what this chit looked like and he wanted to spread her legs to the side of him and burry his peg deep in her pussy. He held in a cringe. See what happens, Alistair, when you do not spend you become uncivilized.

The puppy growled and nipped at his ankles. He gritted his teeth. Having raised five pups from his bitch Grete, he knew full well this mutt would not cease. He was sorely tempted to kick the whelp.

He spun about and strode from the road. At the side, he ever so slowly lowered her back to earth. Her body slid down his rock hard erection. There was no way she had not noticed the press of his sex along her body.
She staggered back and placed her hands on the top of the rock wall lining the road. The puppy placed himself firmly between them. She stared at his breeches.

“Ma’am.” His voice came out deep, aroused, annoyed. “Please do keep your mutt out of the road or a carriage shall run him up.”

She continued to stare at his breeches, then slowly looked up at him.
Beautiful. Wild curls sprang in rings about her round doll face. Eyes, deep as the fresh grass she stood upon. Tingles raced up his neck in anticipation of–

“Pardon, sir.” Her face grew incredibility red as she stared him straight in the eyes. “Your um…” Her plush red lips parted and her tongue darted out. “Your umm… button’s undone.”

Alistair glanced down to see the tip of his stiff peg poking through the side of his flap.

He scowled, and with the side of his hand pushed his peg back into his pants. What did it matter really?

She smiled and cocked her head to the side. “I was in my garden here, sir, and we heard the carriages and Bo simply bolted though the gate. I shall do better from now on.” Her hand rose and rubbed her cheek smearing dirt across the porcelain white surface.

He swallowed hard. She even made dirt look appetizing. Indeed he would have her on her hands and knees in her garden, as she pulled weeds or whatever women did there. Ummm… He would flip up her skirts and slide so slowly into her wet cunny from behind. A moan burst from him and he coughed to cover the sudden sound.

The smell of long, sweet, sweaty sex, mixed with the floral tones on her skin assaulted him. She had recently futtered.

He held back the urge to reach down between her legs to see how swollen her pouting ruffles were. Would she mind if he simply lifted her skirts right here and diddled her against the wall?

“Alistair.” Anne’s laughing tone came from the carriage. “Thank you for taking care of our… obstacle. Now shall I move on without you and let the little miss take care of your needs? Or shall you be joining me?”

A laugh burst from his chest. Only Anne would say such a thing as if it were normal and proper. “Pardon her ma’am. She is quite of the fallen variety.” He glanced over his shoulder at the carriage. “Where is this damned Elm Place anyhow, Anne?”

“Oh!” The woman in front of him raised her hand and pointed to the dense line of shrubs abutting the stone wall. “There is Elm Place, sir.”

“Well then, Anne. I shall walk, seeing I have to make myself presentable for arrival.”

“Indeed, Alistair. Drive on, Jenks.” The carriage door shut and then rolled past them followed by two more, which held two women for Lord Quinton to choose from as brides.

He turned back to the miss before him. “I am Alistair Taylor the third son of the marquis of Lanktor. And who may this little pup be?”

~~~~~~

I hope you enjoyed…

Lacy.

Leave a Reply




XHTML: You can use these tags: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>