Today I turn my blog over to the capable hands of Doris O’Connor. Take it away, girfriend!
Thank you so much for letting me crash here today, Kastil. I’m very excited to be joining the ranks of Evernight’s Naughty Fairy Tale Authors with my contribution, The Last of his Kind.
What do you do when you stumble upon a naked, injured Adonis on your morning jog? You take him home and nurse him back to health of course. If that involves the hottest sex a girl ever had, then so much the better, right?
Penelope Jefferson has returned to her childhood vacation spot at Loch Ness for peace, solitude, and inspiration. When she stumbles upon Doric she is floored by her body’s instantaneous reaction to the clit clenching stranger who washed up from the Loch.
Doric is the last of his kind. Cursed into the Loch by a witches spell he needs acceptance from the very species he detests. When his little human is abducted after their night of bliss, will it spell the end for them both, or will they get to live the fairy tale?
I’d been meaning to write something for this series for ages, but none of the Fairy Tales really grabbed me. I knew it would eventually, such is the way my muse works, and as per usual, inspiration came when I least expected it. I belong to a wonderful critique group called UCW, and we’d had a meet up in the Trossacks in Scotland. Beautifully inspirational place to visit. If you’ve never been, do go and visit. We had wonderful weather too, lots of sunshine, which I am told is something of a rarity in Scotland! We all returned to our various homes on fire to write. At the time I had three different projects on the go, somehow unusual for me, as I normally stick with just one and then one of my crit partners and I were talking on Skype and she shared an idea her mum had come up with.
The idea: What if you had a dinosaur type creature who shifted into a human. Now my muse immediately sat up and took notice. Naturally we thought of Loch Ness, where else are you going to hide a huge ‘dinosaur fishy type’ as my heroine calls Doric. And naturally all that water made me think of the Little Mermaid. A little research into the origins of the Loch Ness legends later, coupled with some more research into the origins of the Fairy Tale, and wouldn’t you know it. It all fit the unfolding story in my head perfectly.
Now, all I needed was some visual inspiration. I found it in the rather yummy Jason Momoa
Once I started writing the story took on a life of its own and The Last Of His Kind was born.
I leave you with a little excerpt:
“Well, for starters I haven’t got any clothes.” He chuckled at her sharp intake of breath, when he dropped the material he’d used to cover his arousal. “Of course if you don’t mind, then let’s go.”
“Err, do you mind? Let me find you something better to cover up with. You’ll do someone an injury with…with that.”
She wrenched her eyes up to his face, only for her gaze to stray back down to his hardening cock. Her breathing grew shallow, and the scent of her arousal in the air made his mind up. He would deal with the aftermath in the morning. He needed to heal, and he had the perfect means to achieve that standing in front of him. It had been way too long. He just hoped he could control his true self.
Oh the man was infuriating and arousing in equal measures. She once again wrenched her eyes away from that huge cock, suddenly all too aware how isolated the cottage was. No one would hear her screams, should he choose to attack her. The mere thought had her heart miss a beat, before it turned into a jackhammer, even as the barely functioning rational side of her brain told her not to be so stupid. She was hardly God’s gift to men. He seemed perfectly able to control himself, and everyone knew men’s cocks had a mind of their own. It didn’t mean he would rip her clothes off. She’d never evoked that kind of passion in a man before. She had no boobs to speak of, her hips were too wide, her legs too skinny, and the damn glasses, well, they spelled librarian, not sex goddess, as her ex-fiancé had accused her of acting like all too frequently.
“Has anyone ever told you, you think too much?” His deep voice shook her out of her musings, and his hot breath fogged up her glasses. When had he gotten so close? The tip of his now fully erect cock left a wet stain along her tummy, and Penelope took an involuntary step back. The smile on his face could only be described as predatory, as he matched her step by step until her back hit the wall. She swallowed nervously when he took her glasses off her nose, and pulled the hairband out of her hair. His large hand massaged the back of her neck, and he caged her against the wall until she couldn’t move. Heat suffused her being as his natural scent surrounded her, and his body heat seeped into her very bones. He towered over her, and panic set in for one minute, before the sharp yank of her hair brought tears to her eyes and forced her head up to look at him.
“I asked you a question, ceannbeag.” The softly spoken words held an edge of steel she found unable to resist. Her pussy clenched, and her nipples tightened; and she bit back a moan as he yanked her hair again, just hard enough to hurt, just hard enough for her to soak her panties. A flash of triumph in the depths of his rapidly darkening golden eyes preceded his knowing smile. He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she licked her lips, willing him to close the distance and kiss her. She tried to get her hands up to pull him down for that kiss she so desperately craved, but he had her pinned so effectively, she couldn’t move.
He shook his head at her ineffective attempts.
“Well? Would you like me to stop those thoughts I see swirling in your eyes? But I warn you.” He pulled back slightly, and Penelope drew a shuddering breath into her lungs. “Thinking will not be allowed, and I expect complete obedience. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Did she? Did she ever! Was this man even real, or was she still asleep and this was all a dream? Who looked like that and washed up on her shore naked, and injured, and still able to turn her insides into a quivering mass of need just by the way he looked at her? He watched her now out of hooded eyes with an unwavering gaze that raised goose-bumps on her flesh. Instantly his warm hands rubbed up and down her exposed arms, and a shiver of a different kind went down her spine. His nostrils flared, and the grip on her arms grew painful.
“If you want me to leave, you have to tell me now.” His voice had dropped an octave, his accent thicker than before. “If you want me to stay, and I sure as fuck hope you do, then know that you’re mine to do with as I see fit. I will use your body until you scream your surrender and my cock has filled you every which way you can think of and some you couldn’t even imagine.”
Oh good God. I’m doomed. If this is a dream then I really must eat more cheese to make sure I have more of them.
“Do I get a safe word?” She barely heard her own whisper over the roaring in her ears. Her heart beat so fast she felt faint and had his body not been holding her up, she would have simply sunk to the floor in a puddle of her own arousal. Never, ever had she been this turned on, and he’d barely touched her.
Thanks again for having me here. :)
Doric tells me he is feeling generous today, and he is offering one lucky commenter the chance to take him home for free, so do leave a comment!
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