His Dark Kiss (Erotica Erotic Romance)
Hope Hart, the most unpsychic psychic in the business, is desperate. Her customers are demanding refunds. With the help of a bizarre CD, suddenly she’s nose-to-nose with mysterious man...who claims he’s a ghost. She’s skeptical but intrigued. Once he pulls her into his arms, and presses his lips against hers, she yearns to surrender to the ecstasy only he can give her...no matter the danger. More
Hope Hart, the most unpsychic psychic in the business, is desperate. Her customers are demanding refunds. With the help of a bizarre CD, suddenly she’s nose-to-nose with mysterious man...who claims he’s a ghost. She’s skeptical but intrigued. Once he pulls her into his arms, and presses his lips against hers, she yearns to surrender to the ecstasy only he can give her...no matter the danger.
Previously published as PHANTASMIC FANTASIES
“When I was alive, I took the sense of touch for granted, most of the time unaware of textures, temperatures and so on unless they were extreme or painful.” His gaze captured hers again. “How often are you aware of the weight of your clothes, or the texture of the carpet under your feet?”
She glanced down at her bare feet. “Never.”
He lifted their hands until they were both upright then uncurled his fingers and slid his flattened hand up and down against hers. The innocent touch sent sparks of awareness through her body. “Did you feel the rasp of my calluses against your palms?”
“Not until you mentioned it.”
“Or the chill of the tabletop,” he said, tipping his head to her left hand, which was resting flat against the table’s slick surface.
He lifted his fingers to her hair, tugging the cotton scrunchy from it. Curls fell around her face, resting on her shoulders and cascading down her back. He gathered a fistful and pulled slightly. The tingling tension on her scalp felt wonderful, erotic. The little sparks of awareness flared into blazes of molten pleasure as she let her eyelids drop, partly obscuring her view.
“Your hair is so incredibly silky, like the finest satin.” He lifted it to his nose and visibly inhaled. “Mmm…coconut.”
“It’s my shampoo,” she whispered. She captured a stray piece and lifted it to her nose as he gently stroked her jaw with his thumb. “But I showered hours and hours ago… I don’t…smell the scent any longer.” It was getting increasingly difficult to speak thanks to the heat building inside her body. And he hadn’t touched any vital parts yet.
“It’s still there. You’ve just become desensitized to it.” He pressed her strawberry curls to his lips, and enraptured, she watched. He hadn’t touched anything but her hand, face and hair, yet she was blazing hot. Waves of need crashed through her body with blinding force. She hungered to be closer, skin to skin, breast to wide, hard chest. She wished he would gather her into his arms, hold her tight.
She wanted to taste him.
As if he could read her thoughts, he tipped his head and slowly lowered it. Dizzy and giddy, every cell in her body humming with anticipation, she closed her eyes, held her breath and waited for the moment their mouths met.
In a single heartbeat she felt his warm mouth press against hers. A flurry of emotions and sensations pummeled her at once. In response, she sucked in a deep breath through her nose and threw her arms around his neck. His supple lips slid over hers and his damp tongue traced the seam of her mouth.
Her lips parted and his tongue delved inside, finding hers and slowly stroking it. She moaned into their joined mouths, the sound echoing in her head, as spikes of tense, blinding need shot up and down her spine. Her pussy throbbed with the urge to be filled. Her breathing quickened and her heartbeat hammered an unsteady beat against her breastbone.
And in that instant she knew she would sleep with him that night.
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