Smut Peddler with A Prize

I am a smut peddler. I will sing the praises of authors who write a good smut-tastic story and tell all my friends to buy buy buy it! But please be aware that all smut is not created equal. Sex for the sake of sex isn’t sexy..however..

I love a hot sexy scene. I love a gritty dirty scene. I love an Alpha “I need to be buried balls deep inside you” kind of scene. A set your panties on fire and you need a glass of wine after reading that kind of scene.

I’ve had my share of book affairs, as I am sure you all have too, but I what I want to know is have I missed any? What sexy alpha male have I not had the pleasure of enjoying? Who would you recommend and why? What scene solidified this smut-terific status?

I am giving away a $20.00 Gift Card to the E-reader of your choice (itunes, Amazon, Nook, etc.) to the person that can give me the hottest sex scene out there NOT from Fifty Shades of Grey! Comment on this post or on Facebook with the Name of the Book, Author and most memorable quote from the sexiest scene. The contest will close Monday January 19th at 9pm. The winner will be announced the following day!

12 Comments

  1. Here you go fellow smut lover😜
    This is from Cage by Harper Sloan- part of Corps Security Series

    His hands shoot out and grab my hips to help steady my legs. “Get naked. Now,” he finally pants, once he makes sure my footing is solid. He steps back and drops his ass into a chair that I didn’t even notice was there. Looking around the room, I take in the masculine warmth. All the furniture is dark wood, and cream colors the walls. Very earthy. My red dress stands out against all the muted tones. I look back over to where he is lounging and take in his arrogantly lifted brow. He doesn’t think I’ll do it. Stupid man. Turning on my heel and presenting my backside to him my back, I reach up and slowly draw the zipper down the length of my back. Luckily, it isn’t so high up that I need to ask for his help. I take my time, feeling the teeth unhook one at a time with the measured glide of the zipper. When it catches at the bottom, I look over my shoulder again and watch as he brings his hand to his belt. Well, that is fucking hot. I slip each shoulder off slowly before letting the dress drop and pool at my feet. I can’t hold back my smile at the harsh intake of breath that comes from behind me. I’m certain that he didn’t expect to find me completely naked beneath my dress. I bring my leg up, but right before I slip my shoe off, I hear his strained voice say, “Leave it.” I drop my foot and slowly turn to face him. I’m comfortable enough in my own skin to know I look damn good. When I complete my turn and meet his eyes, I can see that he agrees. Looking down his body, I notice that he has slipped off the shirt, and his pants are unfastened. One hand grips the arm of his chair with so much force that it looks like he might rip the arm right off, but his other hand? His other hand is slowly stroking one hell of a shock to my system. His body alone is enough to convince me to sell my left tit just to touch it, but to see what he has been packing all day makes my center weep with wetness. Huge, thick and decorated. He fingers the hoop, which causes his dick to jump and a hiss to shoot from his mouth. As if the Prince Albert isn’t shocking enough, the second horizontal bar through his bulbous head has my jaw dropping. My first thought was ‘holy shit that had to hurt,’ but closely followed it is my body screaming ‘hell fucking yes, that will feel like pure bliss’! “Like what you see, Beauty?” He continues his slow strokes. I can see the drop of come that is starting to fall from the top and my mouth instantly waters. “Tell me how bad you want my dick.” Shaking my head to clear the lust-filled fog, I have to remind myself of the game I started. I don’t know when it became important, but I want the upper hand. I smile sweetly. “I don’t think so, big boy.” I bring my hands up and caress my breasts, tracing the swell, and then cupping them and pushing them together. The friction forces a soft moan to escape. I trail one hand deliberately down my body, allowing my fingers to outline my sex a few times, and drawing the warm moisture across my soft skin. When I part my folds and drag a finger through my wetness, his hand stops stroking and his eyes flash. “Melissa,” He warns. “Greg,” I moan, swirling my finger around my clit. “Tell me, how bad do you want my pussy?” With his answering growl, I push two fingers deep, close my eyes, and hum low in my throat. It’s been a while since I had a man to pleasure my body, long enough that I know exactly what my body needs. When it became obvious that no man was able to do it for me, I forced myself to learn. My rolling hips and moans of pleasure must be the trigger that causes him to snap. Before my eyes even finish opening, I am flat on my back and his mouth latches to my pussy. He pushes his tongue in deep and with his hands on my hips, pulls me roughly against his mouth. After a few stabs into my seeping center, he slowly licks his way up to my clit. I can see one corner of his mouth tip up, and his eyes crinkle before I feel the sharp : sting of his teeth as he bites down on my swollen bud. My hands fly into the sheets, my head falls back, and with a loud scream, I come on his tongue. “Oh my God!” I have no idea what I am screaming at him now. For all I know, I am speaking in another language. The things he is doing to my body should be illegal. Never in my life have I felt so overcome with pleasure. He continues his slow licks and nips until my body comes back down, then he trails leisurely kisses up my abdomen. He pauses briefly to lick around my belly ring before continuing his way up to my tits. “Love these. Your tits . . . fuck me babe, but I could spend hours on these alone.” He licks and swirls his tongue around my nipples. He makes sure to spend enough attention on each before taking my mouth with his. His kiss is demanding and full of control. With his hands holding my head firmly between his palms, there isn’t much room for me to try and regain the upper hand. Hell, at this point, I can’t remember why I wanted it. The things he is doing to my body . . . my heart pounds as if it is seconds away from exploding and every inch of my skin feels too tight. I need him. “Please . . . pl-please Greg!” I scream, wrenching my mouth from his wicked attention. My body is shaking so violently with the built up desire that I can feel my teeth knock together. “Goddammit! I need you inside my body! Fuck me!” If he hears me, then he is clearly ignoring my begging. His lips nip at the skin around my collarbone, soothing each sting with his tongue. To hell with this. I need his dick inside my body now. Bringing my feet up flat on the bed, I push down with all the strength I have left in my body. Clearly, I catch him off guard, making it easy to flip his large body off of my own. Using his shock to my advantage, I pounce. Before he can even move, I jump up and straddle his chest, trapping his arms under my legs. My slick pussy meets flush with the heated skin of his chest. When he tries to speak, I cover his lips with my finger and shush him. “No.” His eyes flash with warning, warning that I have every intention of ignoring. “I told you I wanted your dick. I didn’t stutter. My words, Greg, were clear. Condom?” His tongue darts out and licks my finger, but even with the playful act, his eyes light from within. I have a feeling he is just letting me take the lead here. “Drawer,” he says with a nod towards the side table. Luckily, when I flipped him, we landed within arm’s length. I lean forward, letting my breast fall heavy against his face. He doesn’t waste any time before attacking. His tongue and teeth cover every inch he can reach without the use of his hands. Grabbing a condom and then sitting back on my perch before he can try anything is harder than I think it could be. He lets out the most raw, feral sound when his lips lose purchase on my nipple. I give him a smirk before deliberately inching my way down his body. When I get eye level with his cock, I want to cry with joy. This is going to be delicious. Ripping the condom open with every intention of making quick work of rolling it over his impressive length, I quickly realize that I have no idea how this will work. I don’t know what the hell I am supposed to do with the ring and barbell. He growls, snatching the condom from my fingers before rolling it on. Right before he moves his hands, I catch another flash of metal down near his balls. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I whisper, “Do you have some self-mutilating fetish?” Right where his shaft ends, there is a long barbell through his skin. Fuck me; it just keeps getting better and better. “You won’t be complaining about that one when it’s slamming against your clit, promise you that.” “Oh God.” Climbing back up his body has me swearing that I have died and gone to hard body heaven. I lick every inch of his skin that I can reach before straddling his hips and taking his mouth. While our tongues“swirl together and our breathing clashes, my hips are busy rubbing against his. My legs spread just about as wide as I can get, forcing my pussy to open like a flower and hug his dick tight. Pushing off his chest, I lift up, grab his dick, and slam myself home. I almost can’t hear the harsh bite of his breath over my scream. I feel the rings hitting a spot deep within me that will have me begging in no time. The one pressed tight against my clit has my vision going hazy. “Have . . . to . . . move,” he warns, and once again, I find myself rolled onto my back. He doesn’t even pause when he flips and pounds into me. His hips slap against mine, his balls make a loud, wet sound as they hit my skin, and his eyes flash something I wish to God I understood. “H-h-harder!” He slams deep and leans up on his knees causing his dick to slip out almost completely. His large hands grab my hips and bring my body half off the bed. With my head still on the bed, the rest of my body hovers under his control as he pulls back and gives me my wish. My legs are dead weight, my hands clench tightly in the sheets, and my eyes hold his. The look in his eyes combined with the hard hitting of his piercings, and the awe-inspiring thrusts is enough to have me screaming. Screaming, begging, and pleading. I have lost control of my body. It is locked tight and shattering into pieces. His hips pick up speed but then slightly slow down towards the end of my release. He brings my body back down to the mattress and rocks his hips, causing a few more aftershocks to roll through my body. “Do you like my cock? Do you like having me so deep in your body you won’t be able to walk tomorrow? The way your pussy is gripping my dick and your wetness is coating my balls, I would say you fucking love it.” I whimper and he smiles. This isn’t the attractive smile he gives the public, no this smile is pure fucking sexy evil. “Going to fuck you raw.” He warns before making true to his words. When he finally grabs my hips and locks our pelvises together, I have come twice and lost track of reality.”

    Like

  2. Um… the sexiest scene that comes to my mind right now is from Falling Into You by Jasinda Wilder

    “I wake slowly, like drifting to the surface of a lake after diving deep. The first thing I’m aware of is the thumpthump…thumpthump of Colton’s heartbeat under my ear. God, I love that sound. Then I become aware of his body, hard yet soft beneath me. I’m basically on top of him, half of my torso on his chest and stomach, my leg over his, my foot between his. Then I become aware of my hand.
    It’s on his belly. Okay…well actually, it’s not quite his belly. It’s a bit lower than that. A lot lower. And I’m cupping a part of his body that is most definitely awake. Very, very awake. And huge. Thick. My hand is on it. Holding it.
    Oh god. Oh shit. Oh god.
    His breathing is even, softly soughing in and out. He’s still asleep, then.
    The major problem in this situation is that I don’t want to move my hand. I want to touch him. It’s been so long, and the thought of him, of what my hand is touching…I feel a clench down low in my core, a gush of damp desire.
    I can’t really help it. I slide my palm down, then back up. He shifts, rolls his hips up and then relaxes. I do it again, slowly, gently, guiltily. I watch in hungry fascination as his abs ripple and tense as he rolls his hips again. He moans, a lupine growl deep in his chest. His breathing stutters, and then he takes in a deep breath.
    I look down. A sliver of pink shows at the top of his gym shorts. I lick my lips. I’m so awful. This is so wrong, so stupid, so slutty. But I don’t stop. His shorts are hiked up around his thighs, and yet tugged down low on hips by the way he’s moving, shifting. So now, the very tip of him is peeking out from beneath his shorts.
    I glance up at his rugged face, lax and handsome and innocent in repose. He swallows, shifts his face to the side, lifts his lower half up slightly into my touch. I don’t know what I’m doing, why, where it’s going to go. He’s still deeply asleep, sucking in long, even breaths, letting them out on a slight and adorable snore.
    His arm is around me, curling over my back and cupping me to him, his other hand on his chest. And now his hand slides down my back, falls limp and lands on my ass. Yes. I like that. I shift up a little so his palm and fingers are clutching my left ass cheek.
    What am I doing? I’m such a fucked-up mess. He stopped kissing me while I was upset to avoid taking advantage of me, and here I am fondling him in his sleep, getting cheap thrills off his hand touching my butt while he snores innocently.
    It’s so wrong, but I tug his shorts a little lower, so more of him peeks out. Now I can see the thick pink mushroom head, the tiny hole at the tip, the groove around the bottom of the head. I squeeze my eyes shut and tell myself to stop. It doesn’t work. I touch the pink flesh with my thumb, biting my lip. So soft, like velvet. I can’t help stroking his length again, and I swallow hard in appreciation. It takes me a ridiculously long time to stroke him from root to tip.
    I bite my lip hard, just to make sure I’m not dreaming. The sharp twinge of pain tells me I’m awake. Awake, and clearly a slut with no morals. I mean, I haven’t touched anyone like this since Kyle. I’ve kissed a few guys in an attempt to force myself to move on, in an attempt to ease the ache of need that I’ve carried in my belly for so long. But none of the guys I kissed ever ignited any kind of spark in me. Just dead, nothing. Dan tried and tried, and I really did try to get into it. I never could.
    I can’t accurately say there’s a spark, with Colton. No, it’s way, way beyond a spark. Just looking at him lights a fire. Touching him, being touched, even innocent touches, even his hand in mine creates an inferno.
    This? Touching him so intimately, so erotically? You could light a match from the waves of palpable heat radiating from me, flames of desire fanned hotter every second.
    I can’t stop stroking him. Up and back down, caressing his length, exploring his thickness through the swishy fabric of his shorts. He moves in time with me, now, and he’s waking up. Moaning, writhing under my touch. I can’t stop now. I think he’s close.
    I press my thumb to his tip again and rub in circles, and I feel his body tense beneath mine. I glance up at his eyes, watch them flick open and waver in confusion, then stutter and blink as he comes. My gaze flits down to watch the white stream cover his belly.
    “The fuck?” His voice is muzzy and and puzzled and slow.
    He’s awake, he’s released, but still thick. I slide my hand into his shorts and take him in my hand, and I bite my lip at the satiny hardness of him. His eyes meet mine, and I can tell he’s wondering if he’s awake, how he should feel, what to say.”

    Liked by 1 person

  3. 😜 This is from Ugly Love by Colleen Hoover ❤

    “Tell me what you want, and I’ll see if I have it,” he says.
    “Orange juice.”
    He grins, then reaches toward the bag. He pulls out a container of orange juice, and the simple fact
    that he even thought about it is testament to his generosity. It’s also testament that it doesn’t take much
    to make me melt. I should tell him my one rule has just become Stop doing things that make me want to
    break your rules.
    I take the orange juice from him with a smile. “What else is in the bag?”
    He shrugs. “Stuff.”
    He watches me open the juice. He watches me take a drink of the juice. He watches me put the lid
    back on the juice. He watches me set the juice on his kitchen counter, but he doesn’t watch me closely
    enough to notice how fast I can lunge for the bag.
    I grab it right before his arms wrap around my waist.
    He’s laughing. “Put it back, Tate.”
    I open it and look inside.
    Condoms.
    I laugh and toss it back onto the counter. When I turn around, his arms don’t leave me. “I really want
    to say something inappropriate or embarrassing, but I can’t think of anything. Just pretend I did and
    laugh anyway.”

    He doesn’t laugh, but his arms are still around me. “You’re so weird,” he says.
    “I don’t care.”
    He smiles. “This whole thing is weird.”
    He’s telling me how weird this is, but it feels pretty damn good to me. I’m not sure if weird feels
    good or bad to him. “Is weird good or bad?”
    “Both,” he says. “Neither.”
    “You’re weird,” I tell him.
    He grins. “I don’t care.”
    He moves his hands up my back, to my shoulders, and slowly down my arms until his hands are
    touching mine.
    That reminds me.
    I pull his hand between us. “How’s your hand?”
    “Fine,” he says.
    “I should probably check it out tomorrow,” I say.
    “I won’t be here tomorrow. I leave in a few hours.”
    Two thoughts cross my mind. One, I’m very disappointed he’s leaving tonight. Two, Why am I here if
    he’s leaving tonight?
    “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
    He shakes his head. “I can’t sleep now.”
    “You didn’t even try,” I say. “You can’t fly a plane on no sleep, Miles.”
    “The first flight is short. Besides, I’m copilot. I’ll sleep on the plane.”
    Sleep isn’t on his agenda. Tate is.
    Tate overrules sleep on his agenda.
    I wonder what else Tate overrules?
    “So,” I whisper as I drop his hand. I pause, because I don’t have anything to follow the So. Nothing.
    Not even a la-ti-do.
    It’s quiet.
    It’s getting awkward.
    “So,” he says. His fingers move through mine and spread them apart. My fingers like his fingers.
    “Do you want to know how long it’s been for me, since I know such an intimate detail about you?” I
    ask him.
    It’s only fair, considering my entire family knows how long it’s been for him.
    “No,” he says simply. “But I do want to kiss you.”
    Hmm. Not sure how to take that, but I’m not about to analyze his no when it’s followed up with a
    statement like that.
    “Then kiss me,” I say.
    His fingers leave mine and move to the sides of my head, and he holds me still. “I hope you taste like
    orange juice again.”
    One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.
    I count the words in that last sentence, then search around in my head for a place to store those eight
    words forever. I want to hide them in a mind drawer and label it Things to pull out and read when his
    stupid rule number two becomes a sad and lonely present.
    Miles is in my mouth. He’s invading me again. I shut the mind drawer and get out of my head and
    come back to him.
    Invade me, invade me, invade me.
    I must taste like orange juice, because he’s certainly acting as though he’s enjoying the taste. I must
    enjoy tasting him, too, because I’m pulling him to me, kissing him, doing my best to infiltrate him with

    nothing but Tate.
    He pulls away to catch his breath and speak. “I forgot how good this feels.”
    He’s comparing me. I don’t like that he’s comparing me to whoever else once made him feel this
    good.
    “Want to know something?” he says.
    I do. I want to know everything, but for some reason, I pick this moment to get revenge on that one
    word he spoke to me.
    “No.” I pull him back to my mouth. He doesn’t kiss me back right away, because he doesn’t know
    what to think about what just happened. His mouth catches up pretty quickly, though. I think he hated
    my clipped response as much as I hated his, and now he’s using his hands to get his own revenge. I
    can’t tell where he’s touching me, because as soon as he touches me in one spot, his hands move to
    another. He’s touching me everywhere, nowhere, not at all, all at once.
    My favorite part about kissing Miles is the sound. The sound of his lips when they close over mine.
    The sound of our breaths being swallowed by each other. I love the way he groans when our bodies join
    together. Guys usually tend to hold back their sounds more than girls do.
    Not Miles. Miles wants me, and he wants me to know it, and I love that.
    God, I love that.
    “Tate,” he mutters against my mouth. “Let’s go to my bedroom.”
    I nod, so he pulls away from my mouth. He reaches across the bar to get the box of condoms. He
    begins walking with me to his bedroom, but he quickly walks back into the kitchen and grabs the orange
    juice. When he shoulders past me to lead the way to his bedroom, he winks.
    The way that one little wink makes me feel leaves me terrified about what it’ll feel like once he’s
    inside me. I don’t know if I can survive it.
    Once we’re in his bedroom, I begin to grow apprehensive. Mostly because this is his place, and this
    whole situation is pretty much on his terms, and I feel a little bit at a disadvantage.
    “What’s wrong?” he asks. He’s slipping off his shoes. He walks to the bathroom and flips off the
    light, then closes the door.
    “I just got kind of nervous,” I whisper. I’m standing in the middle of his bedroom, knowing exactly
    what’s about to happen. Usually, these things aren’t discussed and prearranged like this. They’re
    spontaneous and heated, and neither party knows what’s happening until it happens.
    But Miles and I both know what’s about to happen.
    He walks to the bed and sits on the edge of it. “Come here,” he says. I smile, then walk a few feet to
    where he’s seated. He cups the backs of my thighs, then presses his lips to the T-shirt covering my
    stomach. My hands fall to his shoulders, and I look down at him. He’s looking up at me, and the
    calmness in his eyes is contagious.
    “We can go slow,” he says. “It doesn’t have to be tonight. That wasn’t one of the rules.”
    I laugh, but I also shake my head. “No, it’s fine. You’re leaving in a few hours and won’t be back for,
    what, five days?”
    “Nine this time,” he says.
    I hate that number.
    “I don’t want to make you wait nine days after getting your hopes up,” I say.
    His hands slide up the backs of my thighs and come around to the front of my jeans. He flicks the
    button open effortlessly.
    “Being able to imagine doing this with you is in no way torture for me,” he says as his fingers touch
    my zipper. He begins to pull it down, and my heart is hammering away in my chest so hard it feels like
    it’s building something. Maybe my heart is building a stairway for himself all the way to heaven, since
    he knows he’ll explode and die the second these jeans slide off.

    “It’ll for sure be torture for me,” I whisper.
    My zipper is undone, and his hand is sliding inside my jeans. He pushes his hand around to my hip,
    then begins to tug them off.
    I close my eyes and try not to sway, but his other hand has lifted up my shirt just enough for his lips
    to press against my stomach. It’s overwhelming.
    Both his hands slip inside my jeans now, around to my backside. He pushes my jeans down slowly
    until they’re around my knees. His tongue meets my stomach, and my hands get lost in his hair.
    When my jeans are finally around my ankles, I step out of both them and my shoes at the same time.
    His hands slide back up my thighs and to my waist. He pulls me to him so that I’m straddling him. He
    adjusts my legs on either side of him, then cups my rear and pulls me flush against him. I gasp.
    I don’t know why it seems like I’m the inexperienced one here. I certainly expected him to be a little
    less take-charge, but I’m not complaining.
    Not at all.
    I lift my arms for him when he attempts to pull off my shirt. He throws it to the floor behind me, and
    his lips reconnect with mine as his hands work the clasp of my bra.
    It’s not fair. I’m about to be left with one article of clothing, and he hasn’t removed anything yet.
    “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, pulling back to slide off my bra. His fingers slip beneath the
    straps, and he begins to slide them down my arms. I’m holding my breath, waiting for him to take it off.
    I want his mouth on me so bad I can’t think straight. When the bra lowers, revealing all of me, he
    exhales. “Wow,” he says with shaky breath.
    He tosses the bra onto the floor and looks back up at me. He smiles and briefly presses his lips to
    mine, kissing them softly. When he pulls back, he brings his hands up to my cheeks and looks me in the
    eyes. “You having fun?”
    I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling as much as I want to smile right now. He leans forward and
    takes my lip into his mouth, pulling it away from my teeth. He kisses it for a few seconds, then releases
    it. “Don’t bite that again,” he says. “I like seeing you smile.”
    Of course, I smile again.
    My hands are on his shoulders, so I slide them lower on his back and begin to tug on his shirt. He
    releases my face and lifts his arms so I can take it off of him. I lean back and take him in, just as he’s
    taking me in right now. I run my hands over his chest, touching every contour of every muscle. “You’re
    beautiful, too.”
    He presses his palms into my back, urging me to sit up straight. As soon as I do, he lowers his mouth
    to my breast and softly glides his tongue across my nipple. I moan, and he covers it with his mouth
    completely.
    One of his hands moves to my hip and slides beneath the hem of my underwear. “I want you on your
    back,” he whispers. He keeps one hand on my back as he seamlessly switches positions, pulling me
    from his lap to his bed. He’s bent over me now, pulling on my underwear as his tongue dips inside my
    mouth. My hands immediately fall to the button on his jeans, and I unbutton them, but he pulls away
    quickly. “I wouldn’t do that yet,” he warns. “Otherwise this will be over faster than it started.”
    I kind of don’t care how long it lasts. I just really want his clothes off of him.
    He begins to slide my underwear off of me. He bends one of my legs and slips it off my foot, then
    does the same to the other. He’s definitely not looking me in the eyes anymore.
    He allows my legs to fall back to the bed as he stands up straight and backs two feet away from me.
    “Wow,” he whispers, staring down on me. He’s just standing here, staring at me as I lie naked on his
    bed, while he’s still in the comfort of his jeans.
    “This feels a little unfair,” I say.
    He shakes his head and pulls his fist against his mouth, biting his knuckles. He turns around until his

    back is to me and takes a long, deep breath. He faces me again, scrolling up the length of my body until
    he meets my eyes. “It’s too much, Tate.”
    I feel the disappointment seep in with his words. He’s still shaking his head, but he’s walking to the
    nightstand. He picks up the box of condoms and opens it, then pulls one out and puts it between his
    teeth, ripping it open.
    “I’m sorry,” he says, frantically stepping out of his jeans. “I wanted this to be good for you. I wanted
    it to be memorable, at least.” He’s out of his jeans now. He’s looking me in the eyes, but I’m finding it
    hard to keep eye contact with him, because now his boxers are off. “But if I’m not inside you in two
    seconds, this is going to be really embarrassing for me.”
    He walks swiftly to me and somehow slides the condom on at the same time as he’s pushing my
    knees apart with his other hand. “I’ll make it up to you in a few minutes. Promise,” he says, pausing
    between my legs, waiting for my approval.
    “Miles,” I say, “I don’t care about any of that. I just want you inside me.”
    “Thank God.” He sighs. He takes my leg behind the knee with his right hand, and then his lips meet
    mine. He thrusts himself inside me so unexpectedly hard and fast I practically scream into his mouth.
    He doesn’t stop to ask me if it hurts. He doesn’t slow down. He pushes harder and deeper until there
    isn’t any way we could possibly get any closer.
    It does hurt but in the best possible way.
    I’m moaning into his mouth, and he’s groaning against my neck, and his lips are everywhere, along
    with his hands. It’s rough. It’s carnal and heavy and hot, and it’s not quiet at all. It’s fast, and I can tell
    by the tensing of his back beneath my hands that he was right. This won’t take him long.
    “Tate,” he breathes. “God, Tate.”
    The muscles in his legs become tight, and he begins to shake. “Fuck,” he groans. His lips press to
    mine, hard, and he holds himself still, despite the tremors moving throughout his legs and his back. He
    pulls his lips from mine and exhales a huge breath, dropping his forehead to the side of my head. “Jesus
    fucking Christ,” he says, still tense. Still shaking. Still pressed deep inside me.
    The second he pulls out of me, his lips are on my neck, moving down until they meet my breasts. He
    kisses them but only briefly before he’s back at my mouth again. “I want to taste you,” he says. “Is that
    okay?”
    I nod.
    I nod vigorously.
    He pulls away from the bed, disposes of the condom, and returns to his spot next to me. I watch him
    the entire time, because—as much as he didn’t want to know how long it’s been since I’ve been with a
    guy—it’s been almost a year. That’s not anywhere near the six years he’s waited, but it’s been long
    enough that I don’t want to miss this by keeping my eyes closed. Especially now that I get to stare
    freely at that V and not have to be embarrassed by the fact that I can’t take my eyes off of him.
    He’s watching my body now with the same fascination as his hand glides across my stomach, then
    moves down until he reaches my thighs. He pushes my legs apart as he watches what he’s doing to me
    with so much enthrallment I have to keep my eyes open so I can watch him watch me. Seeing what I do
    to him is enough of a turn-on without him even touching me.
    Two of his fingers slide into me, and I suddenly find it a lot more difficult to continue watching him.
    His thumb remains outside me, teasing every spot it can touch. I moan and let my hands fall to the bed
    above my head as my eyes close.
    I pray he doesn’t stop. I don’t want him to stop.
    His mouth meets mine, and he kisses me softly, his lips a stark contrast to the pressure of his hand.
    His mouth slowly begins to explore its way down my chin until it’s on my neck, the dip in my throat,
    trailing down my chest, covering my nipple, down my stomach, down, down, holy shit, down.

    He settles himself between my legs, leaving his fingers inside me as his tongue meets my skin,
    separating me, causing my back to arch and my mind to let go.
    I just let go.
    I don’t care that I’m moaning so loudly I probably just woke up the entire floor.
    I don’t care that I’m digging my heels into the mattress, trying to pull away from him because it’s too
    much.
    I don’t care that his fingers leave me in order to grip my hips and hold me against his mouth, refusing
    to let me climb away from him, thank God.
    I don’t care that I’m more than likely hurting him, pulling his hair, pushing him into me, doing
    whatever I can to reach a point so high I’m almost positive I’ve never been there before.
    My legs begin to shake, and his fingers find their way back inside me, and I’m pretty sure I’m trying
    to smother myself with his pillow, because I don’t want to get him kicked out of this apartment building
    by screaming as loudly as I need to scream right now.
    All of a sudden, I feel as if I’m up in the air, flying. I feel like I could look down and there would be a
    sunrise below me. I feel like I’m soaring.
    I’m . . .
    Oh, God.
    I’m . . .
    Jesus Christ.
    I’m . . . this . . . him.
    I’m falling.
    I’m floating.
    Wow.
    Wow, wow, wow.
    I never want to touch the ground again.
    When I’ve completely melted to the bed, he hungrily works his mouth back up my body. He takes the
    pillow off my face and tosses it aside, then kisses me briefly.
    “One more time,” he says. He’s off the bed and back on it in a matter of seconds, and then he’s inside
    me again, but I don’t even try to open my eyes this time. My arms are splayed out above my head, and
    his fingers are entwined with mine, and he’s pushing, thrusting, living inside me. Our cheeks are
    pressed together, and his forehead is against my pillow, and neither of us has the energy left to even
    make a sound this time.
    He tilts his head until his lips meet my ear, and then he slows down to a gentle rhythm, pushing into
    me, then pulling completely out. He holds himself still, then pushes into me again, then pulls all the way
    out. He does this several more times, and all I can do is lie here and feel him.
    “Tate,” he whispers, his lips close to my ear. He pulls out of me and stills himself again. “I can
    already say this with one hundred percent certainty.”
    He thrusts back inside me.
    “The.”
    He pulls out, then repeats his movement again.
    “Best.”
    Again.
    “Thing.”
    Again.
    “I’ve.”
    Again.
    “Ever.”

    Again
    “Felt.”
    He holds himself still, breathing heavily against my ear, gripping my hands so hard they hurt; but he
    doesn’t make a single sound while he releases for the second time.
    We don’t move.
    We don’t move for a long time.
    I can’t wipe the exhausted smile off my face. I’m pretty sure it’s there permanently now.
    Miles pulls back and looks down on me. He smiles when he sees my face, and looking at him brings
    it to my attention that he never once made eye contact either time he was inside me. It makes me
    wonder if this was intentional or if it was just a coincidence.
    “Comments?” he asks teasingly. “Suggestions?”
    I laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m just . . . I can’t . . . words . . .” I shake my head, letting him know I still need a
    little time before I can speak.
    “Speechless,” he says. “Even better.”
    He kisses me on the cheek, then stands up and walks to his bathroom. I close my eyes and wonder
    how in the hell this whole thing between us will ever end well.
    It can’t.
    I can already tell because I never want to do this with anyone else ever again.
    Only Miles.
    He walks back into the bedroom and bends down to pick up his boxer shorts. He picks up my
    underwear and jeans in the process and lays them on the bed beside me.
    I’m guessing that’s his hint that he wants me to get dressed?
    I sit up and watch as he picks up my bra and shirt and hands them to me. Every time his eyes meet
    mine, he smiles, but I’m finding it hard to smile back.
    Once I’m dressed, he pulls me up and kisses me, then wraps his arms around me. “I changed my
    mind,” he says. “After this, I’m pretty sure the next nine days are going to be pure torture.”

    Like

  4. The Kane trilogy by Stylo Fantome….it is so HOT, dirty, and raunchy…and just YES! Everyone that loves smut should read it! Fair warning it is a little dark.

    “Stop talking. I came to dinner. I win. I get to extract payment,” Jameson said.

    With an abrupt shove, he pushed her to the side. Tate fell against the dresser, catching herself with her hands before she could face plant on the wood. She went to push herself up, but his hand pressed down on the center of her back, holding her in place.

    “What are you doing?” she asked.

    “Whatever I want. You said you trust me,” he pointed out, and she felt his other hand brush against the fabric of her skirt.

    “I do, but I don’t want to have sex in my friend’s bedroom,” Tate told him with a laugh.

    “Why not? And what makes you think we’re going to fuck?”

    “Um, I was in a similar position last week, and you fucked the hell out of me,that makes me think we’re going to fuck. And I don’t want to be disrespectful. This is her house, her party; she thinks I’m laying down with a migraine. The door is open, anyone can see us,” she told him.

    “You’re shy, Tate?” Jameson laughed. She snorted.

    “No, but as I’ve been saying, these are my friends. I don’t want to -,” she stopped talking as he lifted her skirt up. It was long and flowy, went to just past her knees. He draped the material over her back.

    “I’m not going to fuck you. That would be giving you a treat. You’ve been very bad. I’m going to do whatever I want,” he informed her, and she could feel her underwear sliding off of her butt.

    Her argument caught in her throat. Lifting her head up off the dresser, she was facing the door – she could see down the hall. The living room was just to the right, and she could see the edges of a couple peoples backs. It was dark in the bedroom, and she and Jameson were towards the back of it. If anyone turned around, they probably wouldn’t be able to see anything. But if anyone came down the hallway …, not good. She took a deep breath.

    “Jameson, I don’t think we should do this,” she started, but then ended in a gasp as two of his fingers slid inside of her.

    She wasn’t sure how this wasn’t giving her a treat. He wasn’t getting anything out of it, he was standing just enough back from her that she couldn’t even reach him. She swallowed a groan and bit in to a table runner that covered the length of the dresser. He hooked his fingers a little, almost massaging her insides.

    “Don’t hear any arguing now,” Jameson’s voice was dark behind her. Tate shook her head.

    “We shouldn’t …, do this,” she whispered, though her words had no conviction.

    “You want this. Say stop, and I’ll stop.”

    She pressed her lips together and hummed softly. Bit her tongue. Anything to keep from crying out. His other hand grabbed onto her hip and pulled her back a couple inches, enough so he could work his arm between her and the dresser. She made a high pitched squeaking noise when that hand reached her front. Dipped in to wetness. Spun her in to outer space.

    “Jameson,” she whispered his name, almost a moan.

    “You’re awfully ready to play for someone who says she doesn’t want to do this,” he pointed out, and she laughed.

    “You started it, in the car. Mean man,” she joked, and then really did moan. She flicked her eyes to the door. No one seemed to have heard her.

    “Always mean. Remember that. Jesus, Tate, how are you still so tight? All these years, and you’re still the tightest pussy I’ve ever had,” he groaned, working his fingers faster.

    “Kegels. Every day,” she replied, and then had to bite down on the runner again. She clawed her nails down Rachel’s dresser.

    “God, talk about being disrespectul. What about you is respectful, Tate? Your slutty mouth? Or your wide open legs? I’d only been back in your life for two days, and you fucked me. Easy fucking girl. Did Angier get it that easy?” Jameson asked. She knew he wasn’t, but he sounded like a jealous lover. It drove her wild.

    “Easier,” she lied. His fingers were working on her so fast, she felt like she was being cut in half. Two Tatums. Which one would he want? She was pushing back against him, pushing for the edge, for the orgasm. It was very close.

    “Fucking bitch,” he swore.

    “You shouldn’t be surprised.”

    “What am I going to do with you? Fucking slut. Fucked him while I was gone. Couldn’t last three days. How much does it take to satisfy you?” Jameson demanded.

    Maybe he is jealous …

    “Maybe more than you’ve got,” she taunted in a breathy voice, gasping for air.

    He pulled away and yanked her back from the dresser. She waited for the swearing, the crushing fingers, the angry mouth. But none of that happened. He backed her up, pressed her butt against the dresser and her front to his chest. She looked up at him, breathing heavy, rubbing her thighs together.

    “If you are very good, when we get home, I will let you finish this,” he told her, smoothing his hands over her hair.

    “Huh?” she asked, dumbfounded. He smirked down at her.

    “That’s all you get, baby girl. You’ll learn not to push me,” he whispered, before leaning down and kissing her.

    Tate moaned and wrapped her arms around his waist, held him to her. Sheloved the way Jameson kissed. For an aggressive guy, sometimes he could be very gentle with his mouth. His lips moved over hers, his tongue against hers, quiet and soft. It made her heart flutter. She sighed and ran her hands down to his pants, ran her fingers along his belt, began pulling at the buckle. But then he pulled away, so fast she actually stumbled. He patted her cheek and then strode out of the room.

    What. The. Fuck.

    Like

  5. Mine would have to be Obsession by Jennifer Armentrout. Here is an exert…enjoy!
    “Hunter’s hands were on the outside of my shorts. My fingers dug into the cool skin of his forearms. “Hunter…” His mouth was on mine again, kissing away any reservation I had. Hunter kissed like a man staking a claim, like someone who never had the luxury of doing so before. And those hands… those quick and agile hands tugged my shorts down. He broke the kiss long enough to get them below my knees, and then he was back up, his tongue demanding entrance to my mouth as he lifted me off my feet, leaving the shorts in a messy pile. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” he ordered. My body obeyed his demand without thought. That was the power of Hunter, I realized distantly. He was pure seduction like this, his voice deep and wholly persuasive. Hunter growled his pleasure as he pressed his lower half against my core. His erection strained through his jeans and the thin satin of my panties. With his hands cupping my rear again, he rocked his hips forward, drawing a loud gasp from me, and when he thrust forward once more, nudging the bundle of nerves, the intensity of the arousal that swept through me was startling and pushed me into the unknown. I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and tugged up. Hunter lifted his arms long enough for me to drag the material over his head, and then he grasped my hips. I slid my hands over his shoulders, surprised to find them warmer than normal, and I wanted to be skin against skin with him, no barriers, but as he nipped at my lower lip, I couldn’t find the words to tell him. “Put your arms up,” he said in a low voice, “and grab hold of the shelf.” I gripped the shelf above me, my fingers digging in, brushing the spines of the books stocked there. The movement arched my back, making me feel feminine and vulnerable all in the same moment. Wrapping an arm around my waist, Hunter reached up, his fingers digging into the vee of my tee shirt. Before I knew what he was up to, he tore the material right down the middle, jerking my body toward his and then back against the shelf. Books rattled. A few toppled onto the floor. Goddamn.”

    Like

  6. The Hook Up by Kristen Callihan
    The first touch is a slow, insistent push. I swallow hard, my clit throbbing and my entire lower half clenching. God.

    The thick tip of his finger breeches the tight ring of my ass. I moan, my head falling forward. Oh God. What we’re doing is something new for me. Something I never trusted anyone to do. It’s personal, naughty, decadent. I want more.

    Watching me with dark eyes, he sinks in further. My lids flutter, pleasure and a feeling of fullness overwhelming me. I’m so hot, so turned on, I can barely breathe. My chest is heaving now, my thighs shaking.

    He shakes too, his heavily-lidded gaze never leaving mine, and I know he’s never done anything like this either. He pants like he’s run miles, sweat making his golden skin glisten.

    With every thrust of his cock, his finger slides away, then pushes back in as his cock retreats. In and out, a slow, inexorable rhythm of dual attack that gets me hotter. I’m so weak, I can only lie prone against his chest and take it as I shiver and sweat. Our lips brush, our breath shared. I kiss him, trusting my tongue in his mouth, fucking it just as he fucks me. Drew groans. His hips slam into mine, harder, aggressive. Another finger plunges into me, and I whimper. The invasion aches, a sore heaviness that I both want to escape and push into further. I feel it everywhere, running up against my skin, licking down the valley of my spine. I’m going to melt right here, dissolve and sink into his flesh.

    Like

  7. From The Invitation by Roxi Sloane:

    JJ’s head falls back against my shoulder, leaving her body open to me. I slowly stroke her breasts, moving my other hand over her stomach, and down between her hot thighs. She stifles a moan as I stroke her through her dress. My eyes meet the cab driver’s in the rearview mirror. He winks. I lean in to whisper in JJ’s ear. “We have an audience,” I murmur, still stroking in circles around her clit. “Want me to stop?” She keeps her eyes shut. “Was that a no?” I grin, reaching to squeeze her other nipple. JJ pants against me. “Was that a yes?” I rub faster. She whimpers. “He can see everything, you know,” I keep whispering. My words are making her hot, I can tell. She’s getting off on how naughty this is, spread out on my lap in the backseat of the cab with the driver just inches away, hearing every moan. Damn, I love how wild she is. Other girls would be blushing by now, pushing my hands away, pretending to be good and proper. But JJ arches up, pressing against my hand, then grinding back into my cock. She keeps her eyes shut, but I can tell from the heat in her body she’s loving every minute of this, there in the dark with just my hands and dirty words urging her on. “I bet he’s wishing he was me right now,” I murmur, sliding my hand up under her skirt. She’s naked underneath, juicy and dripping for me. I curl two fingers up inside her, and feel her body clench around me, greedy for more. Soon. So fucking soon. “He’s hearing those sexy whimpers, and wishing he was balls-deep in your tight, wet pussy,” I whisper in her ear. “I bet he’s never fucked a girl like you before. Hell, I bet the minute he drops us off, he’ll be jacking off, imagining your lips sliding up his shaft and taking him deep, choking on his cum.” JJ lifts her head and turns to me. Her eyes are wide and lusty, her breath is coming fast. “Too bad,” she tells me, gasping as I plunge my fingers deeper inside her clenching channel. “Yours is the only cock I want inside me, every inch, Ash, I want every fucking inch.” Goddamn. I fight to keep control, but JJ clenches around my fingers. “You feel that?” she demands. I groan. Fuck, this is too much. “That’s what I’ve got for you,” she promises, her eyes bright. “I want to feel you stretch me wide open. I want you pounding me into the mattress. Hold me down, tie me up, do whatever you want with me, just promise, you’ll take me hard.” The cab screeches to a halt. For a second, I think the cabbie’s just come, but then I look out the window and realize, we’re outside my apartment. Thank fucking God. I push JJ out the door and throw a twenty into the front. “Keep the change.” The driver smirks. “You are one lucky bastard,” he calls, as I slam the door shut. Don’t I know it.

    One of the sexiest scenes I’ve ever read. 😉

    Like

  8. Honestly this isn’t that smutty but the hottest line I ever heard was in fighting to forgive by jb salsbury when the playboy Blake says “id rather cut my own dick off than put it in anyone else.” It was so fiercely loyal and different from his past that it was a total turn on

    Like

  9. This isn’t real smutty but it was such a turn on

    In fighting to forgive by jb salsbury playboy Blake Daniels says “I would rather cut off my own dick than ever put it in someone else again”. Not über romantic but it’s so fiercely loyal and different from his past slutty ways that it was really meaningful

    Like

  10. He pushed me against the wall before I could take another breath, grabbing my hands and lifting them above my head. “Hold the wall…” I nodded, pressing my hands against the cool surface. With a ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ look on his face, he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, and spoke softly, “I’ll make you regret it if you let go.” “Yes…” “That wasn’t a question.” The look on his face softened, and I was sure he could hear the loud beating in my chest. I shut my eyes as he ran his hands up and down my sides. I could feel his cock hardening through his pants as he lowered his kisses to my breasts and swirled his tongue around my nipples. His mouth trailed down my stomach, and his hands caressed every inch of me as he made his way down. “Thoreau…” I gasped as his tongue skimmed the inside of my thighs. “My name is Andrew.” He got down on his knees. “We’re done playing that game.” He trapped my legs with his hands and pressed his mouth against my pussy. Licking me gently, he massaged my clit with his thumb. I tried not to moan too loudly, tried to keep it all in, but each time he swirled his tongue, my mouth let another sound escape. “You’re so fucking wet…” He groaned. “So fucking wet…” He slipped two thick fingers inside of me, pushing them as far as they could go. My eyes fluttered open as he added a third finger, as he whispered, “So tight…” “Ahhh… Andrew…” I gave up trying to be quiet. “Yes?” He slowly pulled his fingers out of me and looked up, waiting for me to say something, but I couldn’t focus when he looked at me liked that. With no lead-in kisses whatsoever, he buried his head in my pussy and fucking devoured me. “Ohhh…” I cried out in indescribable pleasure. “Ohhh godddd, Andrewww…. Waitttt… Slow down…” He ignored me, plunging his tongue deeper and deeper. I couldn’t help but let go of the wall. I dropped my hands to his head, grabbing fistfuls of his hair to keep my balance. The harder I pulled his hair, the more his tongue lashed against me with no mercy. Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door, but Andrew didn’t bother stopping. Instead, he lifted my right leg up and draped it over his shoulder. He grasped my thigh so I couldn’t move, and then he slid his tongue into me a little deeper— licking every corner of my walls. On the verge of coming, I grabbed his shoulders as my pussy throbbed against his mouth. But he stopped abruptly. He moved my leg and kissed his way back up my body, stopping when he reached my breasts. He palmed them with one hand and roughly twisted my nipples. “I told you not to let go of that wall,” he said, looking down at me as he unzipped his pants. I stared back into his eyes, nearly breathless. “I did tell you that, didn’t I?” He clasped my hand and pressed it against his chest, slowly moving it lower and lower. When my hand finally reached his dick, I looked down in utter shock. He was huge, massively thick, and my jaw was hanging wide open. “You don’t like it?” He tilted my chin up and smirked. I was utterly speechless, but I couldn’t deny how horny I felt right now. Remembering what he’d said on the phone, I lowered my head to taste him, but he stopped me. “Not tonight.” He pulled a condom out of his pocket, and kept his eyes on me as he put it on. Leading me to the couch, he sat down and pulled me into his lap. I leaned forward to kiss his lips, but he quickly repositioned me so I was facing away from him. Then he teased me with the head of his cock— rubbing it against my slit. Again and again. “Remember how you said you wanted to ride me until I came inside of you?” he whispered into my ear. “How you wanted to grind on me until I begged you to stop?” “Yes…” I moaned. He pushed me down by my shoulders and sank me onto his cock, burying himself to the hilt inch by inch. The further I slipped onto him, the more he groaned. The more he said my name. When he was completely inside of me, he held me still and pressed his lips against the back of my neck, letting me adjust to his length. The feel of him was like nothing I’d ever felt before. It was intense, powerful, addictive. “Ride me, Aubrey…” He pushed me forward. “Fucking ride me…” I took a deep breath and rocked against him, slowly stretching my insides further and further. I could barely maintain a rhythm; the fullness of him was almost too much, and he was rubbing my clit with his thumb— driving me insane. “You feel so fucking good right now…” He yanked me back by my hair. “Don’t fucking stop.” I held onto his legs to steady myself, slightly lifting my body up and down. I tried to finally establish a tempo, to finally take control. “Andrewww…” I couldn’t handle his cock anymore. “I’m… I’m about to cum…” “No.” He gripped my hips harder than ever. “Not yet.” He suddenly stood up, with me still impaled on his cock, and bent me over. “Grab that table and don’t let go.” My fingers clutched the edge of the coffee table and he pounded into me again and again, smacking my ass each time I cried out. “I told you I was going to own your pussy,” he whispered harshly. “Don’t cum until I tell you to fucking cum…” His cock was throbbing inside of me, and my muscles were clenching with his every stroke. “Fuck…. Fuckkkk!” My legs were starting to give out as an intense pressure built inside of me, as he fucked me relentlessly. “Andrewwwww…” “Don’t let go.” He warned, but I couldn’t help it. My orgasm took ahold of me in a rush and I collapsed, falling forward. Before I could land face first onto the coffee table, he pulled me back and continued pounding into me until he reached his own release.

    By far one of the sexiest scenes I have read. It’s from Reasonable doubt by Whitney G. Thank you for the chance 🙂

    Like

  11. I have such a bad memory, so to actually find and quote a scene, probably not, but I love all of Tijan’s sex scenes, and Kelly Elliott’s are pretty dang sweet also! Abbi Glines has spiced up her scene’s too! I am a few books behind though with her.

    I am going to look into the other suggestions above though, Thanks!

    Like

  12. Falling Away by Penelope Douglas. The popsicle/carnival scene!! Quote: “‘I hope you’ve been working out,’ I warned. ‘You’re going to need stamina for this.'”

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s