Paranormal Fantasies: A Promotional Collection of 14 Erotic Supernatural Stories (11 page)

Hers was the only human blood he would take. She trusted him
with that: not just that he would constrain his feeding habits in
that way, but also that he would never take too much. It would be
all too easy for him to hurt her, if he wasn't careful - and she
trusted him to take that care. Just as he trusted her, when she
teased him with the stake or beat him with the whip, never to go
too far. She knew that he was safe in his arms - just as he knew
that he was safe in hers. No matter what.

Alex soon finished his meal, licking gently at the wound to
encourage it to heal. In a moment, it would be gone. Jen sighed
gently, relaxing against him.

"All done?" she murmured sleepily.

"All done," he assured her, licking his lips clean before
kissing her cheek. "Thank you."

"Mm."

"Want me to go get you some water? Something to eat? Iron
supplements?"

She laughed. "Later, baby. Right now I just wanna be here with
you... Lie down, will you?"

Alex smiled and lowered them gently back down to the futon.
Jen immediately snuggled closer, letting out a sleepy and contented
sigh.

"I love you," he told her.

"Yeah," she breathed lightly, nuzzling at his collarbone. "I
love you too."

END
:)

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Space
explorer Julia has found a pretty sweet deal on the Earthlike
planet Hippolyta: lush alien landscapes to explore, and the chance
to spark a hot romance with the beautiful homesteader Emily. But
when she ventures out into the alien woods, she has a wild
encounter she could never prepare for - and is given an offer that
will change her forever...

Excerpt:

"My pack desires to know your kind. We do not seek conflict.
But we are frightening to you. Are we not?"
Julia looked away, oddly embarrassed. "A little bit..."
"We want a liaison," Bright said. "Will you go between for
us?"
The tension went out of Julia's shoulders, and she smiled in
relief. "Oh, of course! I'd be glad to."
"But you cannot as you are. Will you join us?"
Alarm bells were starting to sound in the back of Julia's mind.
"Well... what would that entail?"
"Become one of us. Part of our pack. Then you will understand both
our ways and yours. Then you will be our liaison."
Julia considered the offer, biting her lip. It was possible that
they just meant an initiation of some sort, of course. Stay with
them for a while and learn, maybe undergo a hazing. Like joining a
sorority back in college. But that didn't seem the most likely
option, somehow - not when she was talking to a pack of werewolves.
Maybe Hippolytan lycanthropy wasn't transmissible, though? She
didn't know.
"How long will it take? I promised I'd be back tomorrow..."
"It will be done this night," Bright said. There was something
about the way she spoke - the abrupt, authoritative tone, her way
of saying how things would be, rather than asking - that was
strangely enticing.
And, well, that confirmed it. One night wouldn't cover a crash
course in Hippolytan wolf culture, Julia was pretty sure. Which
meant they wanted her to become a werewolf.

Other titles by Cassandra Court include:

You've Got Dick!

Ricki
never thought she'd have anything to do with cocks - until
following a mysterious pop-up ad gave her one of her very own!
What's a lesbian to do with a brand-new cock - and what will her
girlfriend Leslie think? #1 in the Magic Pop-Up series! Warning:
This story contains explicit f/f sex, oral sex, and transformation,
and is not for readers under 18 years!

What a Mindfuck!

Married
woman Kelly has a fetish for hypnosis, but she's never been able to
be hypnotized - until now! When a mysterious ad makes Kelly's wish
to be hypnotized come true, she and her husband Martin start on a
journey of erotic hypnosis, limited only by Martin's
imagination...

About the Author

TWITTER: @CassandraCourt

AMAZON BIO PAGE:
http://www.amazon.com/author/cassandracourt

SMASHWORDS BIO PAGE:
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/cassandracourt

* * * * *

Fuck on the Wild Side

By

Jessi
Bond

Copyright © 2012 by Jessi Bond

* * * *
*

“
No.”

“
But -”

“
No, no, no. And again…”

“
Matt…”

“…
no.”

Matt was already halfway out the door when Glenn jumped out of
his chair and ran after him, grabbing his arm. “Come on. There’s
got to be something that would make it worth your
while.”

“
Absolutely fucking not. No way. Not if he were the last writer
on earth and I could never edit anything ever again; no. I will not
work with that lunatic. Also, get the
fuck
off me.”

He managed to shake off Glenn’s grip and escape further out
into the office, but Glenn was relentless. “Try to see things from
my point of view. I need a bestseller. You two can give me a
bestseller, guaranteed. I know he’s not your favorite person in the
world, but if you can find it in your heart -”

“
No.”

“
- Amy needs braces -”

“
No.”

“
- Christmas is coming -”

“
It’s March.”

“
It’s still coming.”

“
No.”

“
That’s not really a disputable fact, Matt. Comes every year.
Like clockwork.”

“
Fuck off.”

“
You
owe
me.”

Something in Glenn’s tone made Matt stop and turn.

He lowered his voice. “Don’t do this.”

Glenn’s face was as firm and impassible as a brick wall. All
around them, the other employees of the publishing house
tap-tap-tapped on their keyboards and all tried desperately to look
like they weren’t straining to hear.

Matt clenched his jaw until it hurt.

“
Fine,” he gritted out. “But this is
it
.”

-

“
This was not part of the deal,” Matt snarled into his cell
phone. He was standing outside of the fifth dive bar he’d had to
hunt through tonight, stinking of beer and cigarettes, and Glenn
sounded completely unsympathetic.

“
I don’t believe we addressed this specifically at all. Would
you like me to send someone else to find him?”

“
No,” Matt forced himself to reply. There was no point in
anyone else looking. Jack Archer wouldn’t allow himself to be found
if he didn’t want to be. “I just made the crazy assumption that you
had, you know, any idea where he is right now. In the entire
world.”

“
We’re pretty sure he’s within the city,” Glenn replied,
sounding distracted. “I don’t think he’s got a valid
passport.”

“
You don’t need a passport to leave the city,
Glenn.”

“
You sure? I haven’t been above forty-fifth street since
Jillian was born.”

“
You’ve been a great help, as always. Thanks.”

Matt hung up and raked a hand through his hair. There were
only so many places a guy like Archer would be found, and most of
them were even more dark, dirty and depressing than those he’d
already visited. After another hour of fruitless searching, he gave
up and headed back to his apartment.

He was on the phone with Glenn, delivering the bad news, as he
walked through the door. In that moment, two things happened
simultaneously. He looked into his living room and saw that Archer
was lounging on the sofa, feet up on the very expensive end-table,
T.V. remote in hand. And he realized that he was relieved - no,
even glad - to see him.

“…
you’re sorry that…what?” Glenn prompted him, after he’d
stopped talking mid-sentence.

“
Nothing,” said Matt, as Archer looked up and waved. “Never
mind.” He hung up.

“
Good evening,” said Archer. “I ordered pizza.”

“
How did you get…you know what? Never mind.”

Archer reached into his pocket and held up a set of keys.
“Remember when I watered your plants while you were in
Cannes?”

“
Two years ago? And you gave those back.”

“
I gave you
some
keys back.”

“
I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of engaging you in
a conversation about why you’d even want a copy of my keys. I’m
really not. What kind of pizza?”

“
Thin crust, pesto and artichoke, extra cheese. I was thinking
to myself - my God, Jack, why don’t you do a nice thing for him for
once? Make a copy of his keys and then he won’t have to loan you
his anymore when you need your plants watered. I was fairly drunk
at the time.”

“
They all died,” said Matt, around a mouthful of pizza. “See if
I ever ask you for another favor.”

“
Normally I revel in low expectations, but I really am sorry
about that. I sort of got wrapped up in my work.”

“
Right. And what work is that, exactly? What do you have to
show for it?”

“
Absolutely nothing. It was rubbish, I chucked it in the
bin.”

“
Well, that’s all going to change. Glenn needs a
bestseller.”

“
Glenn always needs a bestseller.”

“
Glenn always
wants
a bestseller,” Matt corrected him, settling down
on the sofa with a pad and pencil in hand. “But now he
needs
a bestseller. And
he thinks you’re just the one to produce it, given the proper
encouragement.”

“
Okay,” said Archer, cracking his knuckles. “I have this idea.
But it’s awful.”

Matt smiled down at the notepad in his lap. This was always
how the best ones started.

-

Around two-thirty in the morning, when Matt woke up to use the
bathroom and tripped over an antique typewriter in the hallway, he
started to remember why he’d been so reluctant to work with Archer
again. The man himself was nowhere to be found, but his
paraphernalia had somehow multiplied and strewn itself throughout
Matt’s normally well-organized apartment. Pens, paper, musty books
in languages he didn’t even recognize - surveying his living room,
Matt felt an irritated heat prickling up the back of his
neck.

Oh.

Oh no.

Matt resolved to go back to sleep and try to ignore it, only
to wake an hour later with that telltale dryness in his mouth and
the heat spreading, spreading, all the way down his
back…

A glass of water and a cool shower later, Matt left the
bathroom only to catch a glimpse of Archer hunched over his
typewriter in the living room, reading glasses perched on the end
of his nose. His mouth was downturned in a frown of concentration,
a glass of brandy sitting forgotten at his elbow. He looked like
he’d been warped through time, right from Gertrude Stein’s
sitting-room. Matt stood there for far too long, just staring at
him in the dim light of the reading lamp, before quietly returning
to bed and contemplating his predicament.

The heat was coming. There would be no stopping it.

Already, he could feel the familiar tingle in his groin.
Archer had looked
good
. Matt gritted his teeth and tried to remind himself that this
was just a thing, just some weird hormonal thing, and he’d been
dealing with it since he was a teenager and he knew damn well
enough to just ignore the feelings and ignore the heat until it
became unbearable. Then, he’d hit up some seedy gay bar in a
different part of the city and get himself fucked raw, and he’d be
fine for another month. Sex with friends, acquaintances, or
co-workers was strictly out of the question. No matter how much
they looked like a porno version of Ernest Hemingway.

Normally he could stave off the worst effects of this fever by
avoiding sexual thoughts, but now Matt found himself unable to stop
thinking about the way Archer’s forearms looked when his sleeves
were rolled up, the sly curve of his mouth when he smiled
-

Matt’s dick, which had begun to stir as soon as he’d looked at
Archer, was now fully hard, creating an absurd tent out of the
towel he’d wrapped around his waist. He threw it off and laid down
on the floor, tucking his toes underneath the bed, to see how many
crunches he could do before it would go away.

The answer, it turned out, was “not enough.”

All right. Okay. So his dick was absurdly hard, flushed red
and angry-looking, his balls were aching, and his ass felt empty
and neglected. And his abs were burning, but that was his own
stupid fault for thinking he could ignore one of these feverish
hard-ons by working out. But it wasn’t the worst thing in the
world. He’d just started this cycle; it was early enough yet that
some vigorous masturbation could stave off the insanity and night
sweats for a few more days.