Monday, November 21, 2016

A Jewel Thief and a Bounty Hunter on #MoltenMonday #paranormalromance

She's a witchy woman and a jewel thief...
He's the bounty hunter hot on her trail...
The trick is she's toying with him, playing with him and the hunter has become the hunted 
Bounty, story 2 in the Daydreams erotic paranormal short story collection by Dakota Skye content 

She could be anywhere.

I know you're here.

A black cat perched on a post on the pier and watched him. Or at least, in his mood, he imagined that it watched him.

Thinking of the cat that had been on his balcony, he stepped toward it unconsciously. When it bolted from the post, leapt across the hill, and then down another dock, he followed from pure intuition. That cat had been afraid of him...not that cats were usually overly friendly, but something about the way it had bolted triggered his inner predator.

He jogged along the shadows, eyes locked on the cat scurrying toward the end of the pier. There were six boats on this particular dock. He put his hand on the butt of the gun he'd tucked in the back of his jeans and did his best to stay away from the light pools cascading down from the tall poles in between each boat. Far away voices whispered over the water. Rocking waves pulsated against resting hulls and stirred beneath the wooden planks under his feet.

He lost track of the cat, which narrowed it down to the final two boats.

Of course, if he was wrong and he ended up crashing some rich guy's party, his day would end on a definite low. What would his excuse be? Chasing a cat?

And he'd give up.

If, after all this, he'd lost all focus and deductive reasoning, he'd admit defeat and return to Dallas never to speak of his Los Angeles escapades again.

He stood between the two yachts at the end and debated about which one to board first. The cat had long since disappeared and, because they were notorious for hating water, he knew it had boarded one of these.

I can't believe I'm chasing a black cat. He exhaled a long sigh and shook his head with disgust over his level of desperation.

With an eeny-meeny-miney-mo level of decision-making, he chose the one to the left—the dark, empty looking one—and jumped onboard as silently as possible. Creeping low, he found the door on the stern that led inside, pulled on the handle, and frowned when it was open.

This could be another trap, he thought briefly before dismissing the idea. Why would she assume he'd follow a cat? No one in their right mind...

He froze at the menacing click in the otherwise silent boat.

"Hands up. Turn around. Slowly. No tricks."

He'd know that voice anywhere.

He complied and smiled when he came face-to-face with his prey.

She held a gun, but it trembled in her hands. She'd changed into a black dress with a zipper going across her chest diagonally from left shoulder to right hip. Black hair partially covered her face illuminated by the outside light.

"You're not going to shoot me. That's not your style," he said softly.

"There's a first time for everything." She frowned, her confidence from earlier slipping. She used both hands to try to control the shaking gun. "How did you find me?"

"Finding people is a specialty of mine."

She gritted her teeth and motioned for him to step further into the room.

"Why didn't you take your gifts and go?"

"The bigger question is why are you giving me gifts in the first place? I can't be bribed."

They circled around the small space—her holding a gun in her trembling hands and him raising his hands out to his sides.

"You're alone. Always."

"So are you, what's your point?"

"Go to hell, Jakey."

Round and round they went. He kept his gaze locked on the gun while trying to figure out what she was trying to say.

"I can't be bribed," he said again.

"Never assumed you could. Can't a gift just be a gift? No strings attached?"

"Not from you."

"Such a cynic."

"Side-effect of the job."

"You should come to my side. I'm the eternal optimist—no limits, no rules. This situation is unexpected, but I'm confident I'll be leaving you behind tonight, Jake. Optimism. Give it a try."

Taking a chance that she wouldn't accidentally shoot him, he lunged forward and grabbed her wrists. The gun dropped almost immediately, but she fought back using her high heels, claws, and teeth.

They collapsed in a tangle of limbs on the ground.

He pushed her face into the carpet, grabbed her wrists, and searched his back pockets for the handcuffs he hoped like hell he'd remembered to bring. Still she kicked and writhed beneath him, a wild woman with nothing to lose, fighting him until he had her hands secured behind her waist.

"Stop it. I've got you and I'm not letting you go."

"I'll let you think that." She twisted her head and peered at him through a veil of black hair and shadows.

Tired of this bullshit day, he rolled off of her and panted at the ceiling. He needed a minute to relish the victory.

She wiggled until on her knees. "I wouldn't get too comfortable if I were you."

"No? Meeting Carl? Or some other accomplice?"

"You don't have me."

"Yes, sweetheart, I do." He moved to turn on a light so he could get a good look at her.

He could barely believe that he'd finally won.

Her chest heaved; hair fell across her face, revealing only one green eye that flashed menacingly at him, high cheekbones led to a full mouth that remained unsmiling at his perusal.

He knew now was the time to call in the Feds, deliver her to an agent, and go home to collect his fat paycheck.

But he couldn't quite find the motivation to do that.

"How'd you manage to get bail in the first place?" he asked.

"My secrets are for no one else's ears." She tossed her hair over her shoulder and glared at him from half-closed eyes.

"Why did you set me up? I wouldn't have known how close I was if you hadn't. You could have just sailed off into the sunset without me being the wiser. Why this game?" He straightened his legs out in front of him, still on the floor, and watched her gaze skim over him.

"I already told you that. I wanted my goodbye to be memorable." She caught her lower lip between her teeth, her gaze roaming over his body.

"How do you travel around with a cat? A pet of any kind? Doesn't that make being on the run difficult?"

He sighed at her continued silence.

"Were you really leaving town tonight or was that whole stunt this afternoon purely for your enjoyment?"

When the corners of her mouth turned upward in a barely there smile, he answered with a grin of his own. His lingered on that mouth of hers and wondered what it would feel like sucking his cock. Of course, that would violate any ethics he had left.

"You were talkative when our positions were reversed, now you're mute. Interesting." He tapped his fingers on the floor next to his hip. He wanted answers, damn it. After following her all over the country for two months, he needed them.

She scooted forward on her knees and further into the light. She leaned forward, her hair tickling the side of his face and whispered, "We have a few hours to play, Jake. Isn't that what you really crave? My body, my lips, my hands, my heat?"

He gulped and leaned his head away from hers until he could look her in the eye. "Seduction won't change how this ends."

"I know." She sat back on her heels. "Why have I been toying with you all this time, Jake? Because I want what you want."

He knew that this had to be another one of her manipulations, yet his cock twitched in response to the suggestion.

"Do you ever stop lying?"

"The key to a successful con is to always mix in some truth."

He decided to test the dare by reaching out and grabbing the top of the zipper on her left shoulder. "Is this what you want me to do?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Isn't it what you want to do?"

Oh, hell, yes, it was. He'd fantasized about it ever since she'd skipped out on him in Denver—allegedly with a half-million dollars worth of stolen jewels.

He pulled down the zipper, telling himself that he was simply testing her but knowing he wanted to fuck. The idea of her willing and hot beneath him boiled his blood.

Zzzzzzip---the sound ripped through the silence.

The sight of her full breasts above the bra removed any trace of self-control. He pushed the dress open and skimmed his fingers over the fleshy curves. Her nipples pointed out from the lace. He brushed his thumb over them and heard her gasp.

"You really do want this, don't you?" he asked, sliding his gaze to hers.

She answered by leaning forward and sweeping her lips across his.

He pushed the dress down her arms, exposing her chest even more, reached under the fabric and unsnapped her bra. He wanted her tits in his mouth. Ached to roll his tongue over the hard nipples.

She crawled over his lap, straddled him, and grinned. The hem of her dress rose up her hips.

He grabbed one breast before latching onto the other with his mouth. He sucked, nipped, squeezed. He momentarily wished her hands were on him, but knew that would be detrimental to his plan. Her breasts were heavy and warm, exactly like he'd imagined.

She pressed tight against him and grinded her pussy against the front of his jeans. She purred low in her throat, tipped her head back, and completely surrendered to his mouth and his hands.

Her submissiveness contradicted everything he knew her to be—always in control, cunning, independent, strong. He abandoned her breasts and nibbled his way along her collarbone to her earlobe. He knew they'd only have one night—one chance at this—and he intended to indulge.

When his mouth covered hers again, he groaned with pleasure. Their tongues dueled in a passionate dance. Hot. Wet.

She continued rubbing herself against the front of his jeans until he felt certain his cock would break the zipper. He lifted her off of him, sat her on the edge of the sofa, stood, and freed his dick from the confines of his jeans. Without his urging, she leaned forward and licked the tip, her large green eyes looking up at him with a gleam of desire.

He grabbed the back of her head and fucked her mouth. His fingers curled into the long strands of her hair and he thrust his hips in and out of those full lips that had mocked him with an arrogant smile only hours ago.

His balls tightened and he pulled free of her mouth, not wanting to come. Not yet.

He fell to his knees in front of her, pushed the dress higher until the lace of her panties showed, and peeled them from her long legs. She fell back against the cushions and spread herself for him.

He took a moment to savor the view of her slick cunt, disheveled dress, and lush breasts with the hard nipples before squeezing her thighs and sucking her clit. She tasted like wine and all things decadent. He shoved two fingers into her already wet cunt while he went at her clit without mercy. He licked, sucked, nipped while he finger fucked her into a frenzy of gyrating hips and low moans.

"Jake," she rasped. "Please."

"Please what?" He crawled up her body and reclaimed one of her breasts.

His cock throbbed, aching for release, but he wanted to torment her for all the hell she'd put him through these past two months. He plunged his tongue into her mouth and ground his lips against hers until he tasted blood. No mercy. He took without gentleness.

Unable to delay any longer, he rammed his cock deep inside her pussy until he heard her whimper. He angled his thrusts to slide against the top of her vagina, angling to the G-spot that he knew would send her over the edge. He wanted her to writhe in her prison bed, pleasuring herself to the memory of him filling her up with his cock.

She kissed him back with an equal amount of passion, her hips grinding against his with as much force as he delivered upon her, her back arching so her breasts flattened against his chest.
The strength of her desire fueled his.

He pulled himself from her—again wanting to delay satisfaction with the knowledge that this would be their beginning and ending all in one night. He laughed when she cursed him to hell.

He yanked her up by the shoulders and pulled her with him until reaching the kitchen counter. Kissing her, feeling her match his intensity, had stirred something up in his heart that he didn't want to feel. He turned her abruptly, and peeled the dress up to her waist so he could have a full view of her ass.

He used his knees to spread her legs while his hands squeezed her butt, thumbs pressing along her slit. His gaze flicked to her bound hands and he grinned. For tonight—he owned her.

The hunter had bagged his prey.

He slid inside her again, this time slowly, and watched his cock enter her inch by inch.

She had an amazing ass—rock hard and round. He slapped it once—then again—knowing she needed a good spanking. With each thrust, he smacked one buttock and then the other until her skin darkened from the blows and her entire body shuddered beneath him.

He came. Hard. He shouted at the ceiling and pressed even deeper inside her until he felt certain he'd made contact with her womb.

When he finally slipped out of her, he turned her to face him, ran his hands over her luscious breasts, and kissed her with a lingering passion that he felt would never dissipate. She would be the one he'd compare to all other women even though he knew that was unfair.

"You exceeded expectations," she whispered against his lips.

"I'm going to miss hunting you down," he admitted into her mouth.

She smiled, nipped his chin, and—he swore—purred.

Unable to get enough, he lifted her by the ass and carried her back to the sofa where he laid her down and continued to kiss her. He wanted to know her—didn't want to give her up quite yet, knew that once the outside world knew about her capture, he'd be out of her life forever.

Let her go, a voice whispered from deep inside his mind.

She kissed the side of his face, her breasts flattening against his chest, and asked, "Is the thrill of the capture as exhilarating as the hunt?"

He braced himself on his elbows and looked into her emerald eyes. "I can't let you go."

"I didn't ask you to." She grinned, mouth swollen from their passion and eyes lazy with satisfaction. "I'm warning you...the game isn't over."


"It's just taken an interesting twist."

"You must be the most optimistic person I've ever met."

"Do you have any idea why I do what I do?"

He shook his head 'no', although he understood her more than she thought. A middle-class upbringing with older parents, only child, had always towed the line and gotten nearly straight A's all the way through college. She'd broken free of the boredom, the constraints of rules. Right or wrong, he understood it on some level. To a certain extent, they were the similar. He understood being addicted to the chase, the thrills, the unknown, the risks.

She leaned up and sunk her teeth into his bottom lip before saying, "Fuck me again, Jake. Make me scream."

He moaned and ravaged her mouth with his tongue. Damn, he could do this all night long.

A little voice inside warned him to heed her words about this being a plot twist. Even though she was bound beneath him, a part of him wondered if he had played perfectly into her plan.

Keep reading Bounty, story 2 of the Daydreams erotic paranormal romance short story collection today...critics calling it "bite-sized pieces of ecstasy"...

Monday, November 14, 2016

Ready to push the boundaries of right or wrong? #Erotica #Paranormal #Thriller

He's a psychic with nothing left to lose in the search for his sister. She's an FBI agent who dwells in the gray area of justice, a little too wild and a little too reckless. Together...the combination is scorching.

Excerpt of SnowBound, an erotic paranormal thriller, on Molten Monday. Adult content 18+

"So what you're telling me is that I may be staying in a room five doors down from the man who is torturing my sister?" Tears welled in his eyes. He suddenly regretted this mission of his. He wasn't cut out for the nitty-gritty of crime stopping. He fisted his hands against the table. "How do you do it? How do you maintain your control?"

"By picking up gorgeous men in bars who help me remember that life isn't so horrible." She pushed away her glass. "Do you need to be reminded, Landon?"

"It's not that simple." He doubted anything in life would make sense again.

"Trust me. I'm an expert at compartmentalizing as you noted earlier." She stood and walked toward him. "We'll get them this time, but not tonight."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Waiting—"

"Is the biggest part of my job—waiting, watching, putting the pieces together." She combed her fingers through his hair. "What did you see that you're not telling me?"

"I didn't think you believed in all that." He dipped his head to allow her fingers easier access to his neck. Ripples of desire danced through his veins with her featherlike caress over his skin.

"I meant as in see...with your eyes..." she laughed against the top of his head. "Were they outside or something?"

Before the fame, only his sister and mother had accepted his gifts. He'd spent years channeling them into an acceptable career like psychology, denying a part of himself that demanded attention.

He moved away from her touch, not feeling up to being used tonight.

He regretted this plan of his. Being this close to Haley did strange things to him. Everything felt amplified by a thousand percent. He hadn't planned on feeling anything for her despite the images that had been dancing in his head for years. But her energy zapped off the charts. Combined with the darkness he'd felt when walking down the hall and the tension from driving in poor road conditions, he needed space and more wine.

She grabbed a bottle of her own and walked to the edge of the lopsided king-sized bed sitting slightly off-center of the rundown room. Flicking on the television, she reclined back on the pillows and propped the wine bottle against her knee.

Silent except for the rambling of a re-run of Modern Family, the room echoed with residual energy that kept him on edge. She wasn't the only one who sometimes needed to blot out the noise of career and ghosts.

He sipped his wine and looked out the window at the piles of snow that had already covered most of the cars in the parking lot. Under different circumstances, he would appreciate the serenity of being surrounded by white.

He chose the people who worked with him very carefully because he became so affected by someone's energy. When not working, he spent his time alone at his small cabin in Lake George, New York, in virtual seclusion to stop the constant chatter he endured in the city or while traveling.

"She's a fighter," Haley said. "She talked to me about Stanford, about being a doctor one day, said her older brother inspired her. I promised her that she'd still get to do that and meant it."

He swallowed the lump of emotion stuck in his throat before looking at her. "Are you lying to me to make me feel better?"

"Would I do such a thing?" She smiled before lifting the bottle of wine to her lips.

Despite his mood, he returned her smile. "You have hope, that's why you keep doing what you do, isn't it? You always believe you'll put the bad guys away."

"I do," she reminded him. "It may take a lot longer than I'd like, and I may lose a battle or two along the way, but I always get my man. If I'm hunting him, he's as good as caught."

He nodded, having done his research about her reputation as relentless and effective. "Weren't you a little scared when you were in that warehouse stripped of your weapons, resources, and identity? When your team didn't arrive immediately, did you ever doubt?"

"No, I never doubted." She met his gaze. "I don't now either. Look how lucky we are...this man just fell into our laps while we were sitting at a random cafe in the middle of the mountains. Now he's five doors down. Do you know how cagey he is? He fell off the grid after St. Louis. Fate is on our side, Landon."

"Fate? That doesn't sound too scientific." He arched an eyebrow.

She averted her focus to the television, smile slipping, before she moved the wine bottle to the bedside table. "I don't like thinking of Brian being around...worried about me or whatever. I don't like that."

"He's only around some of the time, he likes looking out for you. It's what he does. He loves you and that doesn't die." He joined her on the bed and kicked off his shoes. "I'm not a conman. More times than not I've wished I could be normal. It's hard to hear these messages from the other side, to see these visions, and not always know what they mean or who they're meant for. If I had to choose, I'd be a simple psychologist living in a Denver suburb raising my own family and maybe playing on a recreational football league with a bunch of guys where we'd go out for beer afterward and talk shit."

She faced him, sitting cross-legged on the mattress. "Why can't you do those things anyway?"

"Because the power has gotten stronger and I find it hard to be..." he shook his head, unsure why he was baring his soul. "Never mind."

"I want to know." She stared at him, gaze slipping across his face with a fascination that hadn't previously been there.

"I thought you didn't want to know my story."

"That's when I thought you were my disposable plaything for the night." She dropped her hand to his thigh, her smile gentle. "Now this is night two...I usually kick my men out before breakfast."

"Unless they kidnap you." He dropped his head back against the headboard and snagged her hand. "Your men? Playthings? Fuck toys? You have an interesting vocabulary, Special Agent Masters."

"Yeah, well, I cut to the chase." She looked at their joined fingers. "So why can't you do those things you label as normal?"

"Chatter. People come with various degrees of energy and noise...I hear them all the time. I can't ignore it anymore. You, for instance, have a magnetic almost hypnotic energy that I haven't experienced with anyone before. It's...unusual. Somewhat dark, but there's something else there, too." He squeezed her hand. "You really don't want to hear about this."

"I do." She looked him in the eye. "You still haven't answered my question."

He grinned. "I may have the fame and a lucrative career as a psychic, but that doesn't mean people are comfortable just being ordinary around me. Most people think I'm reading them or seeing things about their future."

"You seem to have a lot of friends...look at how this plan of yours worked out. People are looking out for you."

"Clients." He shrugged. "I call them friends, and they act like it, couldn't be nicer people, but they're clients. And Lily? She's a fan and my assistant. Great person, loyal to a fault."

"But it's not the same as being one of the guys playing football in the park and going out for beers and talking shit?" The understanding in her eyes blew his mind.

"I'm not complaining—"

"It's okay if you are. I'm not judging."

"You're not, are you?" He rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. "Why aren't you? I'm sorry about last night. We got a little rough."

"If I minded so terribly, we never would have left Dillon."

He sighed, realizing that she'd made a choice to stay with him when she'd had every right to tell him to go to hell.

He twisted a finger around a strand of hair and pulled her close. "You know...with this snow piling up outside...we could be trapped here for awhile."

"I wonder how we should pass the time." She leaned over him, hesitated a moment, met his gaze, and flicked her tongue over his lips.

 He opened his mouth and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her hair skimming his face and her body leaning over his. Her tongue darted against his, creating havoc with his already fried nerves.

She tugged his sweater up his chest and over his shoulders, breaking their kiss only long enough to toss the offending clothing aside. Straddling his waist, she removed her gun from where she'd tucked it in the back of her jeans, smiled, and set it on the bedside table. Bending, she kissed the center of his chest before sliding her hands over his shoulders like someone admiring a piece of sculpture.

"Your turn," she whispered, sliding her hands down his arm.

"What do you mean?"

She closed the metal of the handcuff over his wrist, winked, and held his hand up to the headboard. "I think it's only fair."

He willingly lifted his other hand, anxious to see what she would do with him. He usually preferred being the one doing the restraining, but his cock already throbbed at the idea of her taking charge.

She kissed his neck, bit him, slid her fingers over the tattoos on his shoulders, licked his chest, and cupped the bulge nearly breaking the zipper on his jeans. Sliding lower, she pushed his pants down his legs, and yanked his underwear off with agonizing slowness.

She moved her tongue up the inside of his right thigh before moving to his left, deliberately tormenting him while his cock lifted high, desperate for attention. She cupped his balls, nipped against his hipbone, hair slid over the tip of his penis.

Pulling away from his body, she stood, gaze locked on his cock, stripped, bit her lower lip, and grabbed the bottle of wine from where she'd left it. She leaned over him, pressed the bottle to his lips, and grinned.

"Want a taste?" She poured the wine into his mouth before smashing her lips over his, both kissing and drinking from him.

"Mmm...I want to taste you."

"You'll need to wait." She set the wine aside, looked at him, and squeezed her tits together. "Is this what you want?"

He nodded, salivating at the idea of sucking on her. Her hands moved down her sides and slid between her legs. He watched, fixated while her fingers slid over her clit and dipped lower to her cunt.

"Haley, you're driving me crazy."

"Do you wish you were touching me?" She lifted one of her legs to the edge of the bed, giving him a good view of her fingers sliding inside her folds.


She grinned, kept one hand working her pussy while the other squeezed a breast, thumb teasing her nipple.

He watched, fascinated as she stood just out of reach, naked and delectable, giving him a show while he clenched his fists in frustration and his cock ached to be satisfied. Pre-cum dripped onto his lower abdomen.

"Haley, please."

She tilted her head back, long hair sliding down, neck bare, tit squished in her palm, and rubbed herself into orgasm. He watched the muscles of her cunt flex around her fingers and bit his lower lip until it bled.

Abruptly, she turned her ass to him, bent over, and unsnapped the strap from her duffel bag. Holding it between her hands, she stretched it out as if testing its strength.

"Turn over," she demanded. "You've been very bad."


"Now." She smacked his thigh with the strap.

He struggled to turn, wrists overlapping in the handcuffs, top of his head pressed against the headboard. She smacked his ass. Hard. He gasped, the force jolting him tighter against the wooden frame. One of her hands reached between his legs and squeezed his balls just as another strike smacked his ass.

"That's for holding a gun against me," she said before sliding her hand over his shaft from behind.

She bit his back, swatted his ass, and moved her hand over his cock.

"Do not come," she instructed, her hot breath moist on his shoulder blades. "I want that for myself. Do. Not. Come."

He winced, the pain of obeying almost too much to bear. The pressure in his cock throbbed for release. He squeezed his eyes closed as another blow came, this time to the back of his thighs.

She squeezed his balls again, leaving his penis to throb alone.

"Haley, my God. Please."

"You like being punished, don't you?" She moved both hands over his butt. "Turn over."

He returned to his back, sweat rolling down his face from the effort of controlling his release.

She knelt between his thighs and licked his balls before holding her tits together and teasing them over his dick. Meeting his gaze, she smiled before sliding her tongue around the tip of his cock. Her mouth closed over him, sucking, cherishing. He couldn't stop himself anymore. He came with a shout, hips thrusting up until the tip of his penis hit the back of her throat. She moaned and swallowed all of him, her hands reaching beneath him to hold him tight against her face.

The tremor ripped through his entire body, bringing him off of the bed, legs twisting against the sheets, restraints snapping the old wood frame headboard with a loud crack.

"Fuck, we broke the bed," he muttered, looking at the wooden slat that fell against the pillow.
She pulled her mouth from his cock and crawled over him like a predatory cat. Nipples trailed along his chest, blue eyes flowed with need. When they were eye-to-eye, she reached over for the bottle of wine and took a long drink before pouring some into his mouth.

In a surprise move, she undid his restraints and smiled. "I can't stand not being touched by you."

"Oh, thank God." With the shackles still dangling from his left wrist, he rolled her onto her back in one flip and ravaged her mouth with his tongue.

When she moaned her approval at his roughness, he wrapped his hand in her hair and pulled. Rarely had he found a woman who could give it as well as she received it and, damn that thrilled him.
He pinched her breasts before cupping them in his hands and squeezing them as she had done when tormenting him, never breaking their kiss. The more he tasted, the more he wanted.

Cock already hard again, he sucked on her lower lip, met her gaze, and grinned before standing abruptly. He raked his gaze over her naked body, feeling gigantic standing over her small frame and amazed that she'd had the power to make him lose all control. Again and again.

He flipped her over, spread her legs with his thigh, and rammed his cock deep inside her. Seeing the discarded strap, he held her firm with one hand, fucked her hard from behind, and smacked her ass with the belt.

She shouted, hands clenching the sheets at her side, head rolling back.

He dropped the strap, grabbed her hips with both hands, and ground his hips into hers as hard and fast as he could go. Her pussy was so hot, so wet. With his second orgasm, he collapsed on top of her.

They lay there panting, both sweaty and unable to move.

"Glad the room's on your credit card and not mine," she whispered against the sheet. "We're going to destroy this place if we're snowed in long enough."

He laughed against her hair and dragged his hand beneath her to cup her breast. "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow..." 

Keep reading SnowBound now--
caution: some sections contain dubious consent.