Blisse Kiss: The Smut By The Sea Edition

It’s Snogday again, and this time the theme is kisses by the sea, to celebrate the forthcoming Smut By The Sea anthology. I have a story in this, but I’m going to keep that one under wraps until nearer publication time, so for this occasion I’m going to relive a lovely beach scene from my Carina Press novel Erotic Amusements. Enjoy!

“Where is this?” she asked, struggling again with the chinstrap until Rocky stepped in.
“Smugglers Cove. Popular with smugglers, in days gone by, as the name suggests.”
She looked around the isolated inlet, beaming. “Really? Real smugglers? Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum?”
“Case of rum, more likely. And anything else they could lay hands on. Wrecking was the big pastime round here.” He held out a hand, which Flipp took, and began walking down the steep path to the shore. “They’d stand up there, on the outcrop, and shine lights out to sea. Sailors would mistake it for the harbour at Goldsands, head in and hit the rocks. Cue dozens of rowing boats stripping the wreck of its cargo.”
“God. People might have drowned!”
“Sometimes they did. These guys weren’t sentimental.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Oh, years ago. Not that similar stuff doesn’t happen around Goldsands now. It’s just a bit less primitive.”
She looked up at him queryingly, but he turned his face away and pretended to save her from tripping on a rock.
“Mind yourself.” His arm shot out to steady her by the shoulder; she found herself spun into him until her face connected with the warm maleness infusing his T-shirt. She knew she should pull away, straighten herself out, perhaps make some self-deprecating remark, yet she did none of these things. Instead she kept close, made no attempt to shrug his hand off her shoulder, marvelling at how she was compelled by his heat and scent and physicality.
Now they were on the beach, crunching across the pebbles to where the waves lapped ashore.
“So what’s your real name?” asked Rocky, keeping his eyes on a cargo freight vessel on the far horizon.
“Flipp. That’s my name. That’s me. Aren’t I real enough for you?”
He looked down, sniffing, registering her helmet-flattened platinum spikes and her mutinously set jaw. She needed to deflect him from this course. “Oh, you’re real enough for me alright,” he said, the words coming from a place low down in his chest. He moved his hand up from her shoulder to stroke gently at the shaved bit behind her ear. “Unless I’m dreaming you. I’m not, am I?”
“So corny,” Flipp scoffed, but her breath caught at the expression of naked intent in his gaze. “You’ll be asking if heaven’s missing an angel next.”
“The old lines are the best,” teased Rocky, tugging on a strand of ruthlessly-lacquered hair. “How did you like your first ride?”
“Yeah.” Flipp smiled, recalling the elemental joy that had coursed through her all the way along the ribbon of coast road. “Nice. I’d definitely do that again.”
“I’m glad to hear it. These are pretty. Butterflies.” Rocky’s gloved fingers were fiddling with her earring, rubbing at the sensitive spot behind her earlobe in the process. She inhaled shudderingly at the sensation of leather in that special place, looking at his other arm, bare and strong until the flare of the gauntlet announced the beginnings of his wrist.
“I like butterflies,” she managed to say. “I kind of feel them, you know. Their spirit.” She swallowed. Rocky’s thumb had reached slyly round to the hollow at the back of her neck and was pressing into it, unleashing spectacular sensation and a telling dampness at her crotch.
“You’re a butterfly? Can’t choose which flower to settle on?”
“In a way. I like to be free.”
“You want to watch someone doesn’t come along with a bloody great net, then. I can imagine someone wanting to pin you down by the wings.”
She dared to look up at his face. “Can you?”
“Ohhh, yes,” he crooned, and then he was leaning down and into her and the sharp tips of his stubble prickled her and lips that were hard and soft at the same time made their demands known.
Flipp had guessed he would kiss like this, imperiously and urgently, holding her fast with a hand at the back of her neck, but it still felt like a luscious revelation. The rush and clatter of shingle beneath the waves provided a fitting soundtrack to this unexpected passion strike, which was broken off only for him to urge her to discard the ‘stupid bloody jacket’, which she did eagerly, with jittery fingers, to press up all the closer. The layers of thin cotton did little to restrain their open-air ardour; their arms and legs intwined, their tongues twirled together and still they were not close enough, still they needed to close up every particle of space between them.
Stretched up on tiptoes, Flipp hooked an elbow around Rocky’s neck, clinging for dear life while he ravaged her mouth. At the base of her stomach, she could feel a hard, leathercovered bulge; she wanted to climb up this solid wall of man and sit astride it, feeling it where it needed to be felt – between her legs. She could see why Rocky treasured his bike – they were of a kind: powerful, attractive, embodying freedom of spirit.
As if he could read her mind, or her smell, or the frantic language of her hands, Rocky lifted Flipp off the shingle and perched her at waist level, so that she could wrap her legs around his hips, kicking her heels joyously against his tight leather arse while their communion kiss grew still deeper and stronger. Surges of pleasure and need whizzed along Flipp’s neural pathways, all over her body until they gathered in her groin, building up and up into a ferment of wetness and wanting that had her bucking herself into Rocky’s pelvis. Her denim miniskirt was rucked around her thighs now and her knickers must have been transferring their soaked warmth to Rocky’s T-shirt, even through her leggings. He pulled down the spaghetti straps of her layered vest tops and grabbed a handful of breast before wrenching himself out of the kiss to snarl, “You need a good fuck.”
Flipp could hardly disagree, but managed to gasp, “What? Here?”
“If you want.”

Saucy fellow, isn’t he? If you want to read on, I’m giving away a copy of Erotic Amusements to one commenter. The competition ends on 30th June. For more kisses and giveaway opportunities, check out the Blisse Kiss website.