EXCERPT
“Shhh, my lover,” he whispers against the place that aches for him. “I want to make you scream.”
The burn of his finger as it reaches into my depths has hot tears rolling down my temples.
Despite the pain he’s causing, he’s not doing it cruelly. I soon learn his probing has purpose. Within me, he finds a place that seems to throb for his touch. When he presses against it, I lose all sense of reality. I jolt off the bed, let out a scream of pleasure, and spin in the dark fog of ecstasy. It isn’t until I hear him chuckling that I come to. I blink open my eyes to see that his hair is dusted in snow and the entire room glows light blue. The fire has been snuffed out of the fireplace.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he says, sliding his finger from within me and giving me a playful wink that has my womb clenching with need.
Instead of replying to his remark, knowing I’m not going anywhere until he allows it, I track him as he makes his way over to the fireplace. Both of his hands glow orange-red and he kneels at the hearth. A hot flash bursts through the room as he ignites the fire again. Then, he stands and begins shedding his clothes. I can’t help but drink in his perfect form.
Broad shoulders. Muscular chest. Strong arms.
He pushes his trousers down and his cock bobs out eagerly. I’m fixated on it. I’ve never seen one up close. Sure, I’ve seen the Eyes of the White men pissing outside before, but never have I seen one that looks like this. It bounces as he prowls my way, a bead of wetness glistening from the tip. His balls hang heavy beneath his impressive length.
“What, snowflake?” he teases as he crawls onto the bed. “Would you like to take a closer look?”
He knows me better than I know myself.
Rather than denying it, I simply nod. His eyes widen a fraction before he straddles my naked body with his powerful thighs. Slowly, he makes his way up the bed until he’s practically sitting on my breasts. He grabs his cock with one of his strong hands and leans forward. His other hand clutches my bound ones, his thumb caressing me gently.
“Care for a taste, Cold Queen?”
I lick my lips. “Don’t tease.”
He arches a brow and chuckles. “As you wish.”
The tip of his cock is brought to my lips and he runs it back and forth along my bottom one. I dart out my tongue and seek out the wetness to see what he tastes like. Salty and masculine. My tongue circles the soft crown of his cock, eager to learn more of him. He groans in a way that makes me ache for him. I don’t understand his power over me, but I’d gladly yield to him over and over again. I crave to be at his will. Desperate to taste more of him, I wrap my lips around him, loving the hiss that escapes him.
“You’ve earned the title of Punisher,” he growls. “You’ll tease me to madness, my queen.”
My queen.
I run my tongue along the underside of his length, craving to make him weak for me despite me being the one bound and beneath him. He allows me to taste him a moment longer before he jerks away from me.
Pure fury contorts his handsome face.
Did I do something wrong?
A chill races down my spine as he slowly slides back down the bed, his angry eyes never leaving mine.
“What did I do wrong?” I demand in a whisper.
The fierce look softens. “Absolutely nothing.”
“What then?”
He wrenches my thighs apart. “You were about to finish things early and I’d like to be deep inside you when that happens.”
My erratic heart slows at his words. I didn’t do anything wrong because I did it exactly right. Pride has confidence returning as he settles between my legs. I dig my heels into his back, urging him closer to me. His hot cock slides through the fine hair of my sex, teasing me.
“Will you do this with my sister once you’ve had your fill?” I mutter, trying and failing to keep the hurt from my voice.
Instead of answering me, he leans forward to take my mouth with his. I taste the muskiness of myself. I’m curious and distracted from what he’s doing down south until his thickness is pushing into me brutally. A loud sob rips from me as he drives deep inside. The singe of hair can be smelled as he releases me from my bindings. His fingers dive into my hair and he doesn’t move an inch.
“Look at me, my beautiful, sweet queen,” he commands, his voice gruff.
I blink away tears and find his intense, amber stare. My bottom lip wobbles and he presses a soft kiss to it.
“Hear me and hear me well.” His brows furrow as he regards me. “I only want you.”
My heart flutters in my chest. “This hurts, Ryke.”
“I’ve taken your innocence, snowflake. It’s a brutal matter. But soon, your body will adjust to mine. You’ll realize we fit together perfectly.” His lips urge mine to part and he kisses me deeply, his tongue sliding against mine in a gentle way. “The ache will fade and the fire will ignite. Burn with me, my queen.”
He distracts me with another kiss as he slides out of me. Then, with another hard thrust of his hips, he drives back into me. I moan against his mouth. The pain is contorting into an unusual sense of pleasure. Even though he hurts me, I like being impaled by him. I’ve never been this close to another person. It’s surreal. Bordering on magical. I fear I might wake from a dream at any moment and this entire encounter with Ryke will have been a dream.
Then I’d be back to the lonely cold.
Sad and fading.
The Book Junkie Reads . . .Reckless Dreams Interview with . . . K Webster . . .
How would you describe your style of writing to someone that has never read your work?
Eclectic. Different. Layered. My stories are usually a blend of dark, sweet, funny, steamy, and angsty. I love drawing out as many emotions in my readers as I can while giving you a love story with many twists and turns along the way.
Do you feel that writing is an ingrained process or just something that flows naturally for you?
For me, I feel like it flows naturally for me. I see my stories inside my head as movies, replaying over and over again. I’m only there to record what I “see.”
What mindset or routine do you feel the need to set when preparing to write (in general whether you are working on a project or just free writing)?
I love the quiet. I make sure I’m fed, have a coffee in hand, and a blanket on my lap. If it’s quiet and I’m cozy, I can write for hours and never leave my chair!
Do you take your character prep to heart? Do you nurture the growth of each character all the way through to the page? Do you people watch to help with development? Or do you build upon your character during story creation?
I love character prep. I’m obsessed with fleshing out my characters FIRST before the plot even evolves. I feel like I want my characters to stand out so much that you could put them into any plot and they would work because they’re the most important part.
Do you have a character that you have been working on for a long time that still isn't quite ready, but fills you with excitement to work on the story?
Yes! I have a story right now I’m dying to write, but I have other stuff that has actual deadlines that I need to do first. So, in my free time, I pin stuff on Pinterest and make a playlist to get excited for it.
Have you found yourself bonding with any particular character(s)? If so which one(s)?
I feel protective over many of my characters, especially if they have a rough time. War from This is War, Baby is one and so is Torin from My Torin.
Do you have a character that you have been working on that you can't wait to put to paper?
I have one character, Zak, from my Brigs Ferry Bay series and he’s loud in my head. I can’t wait to finally give him his love story.
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