The Knight of Swords is a callow fellow, young, exuberant, and maybe a little obnoxious! His words are his sword, and the truth is his shield.
When Aurora finds herself on a very-delayed plane out of Denver, she expects a long, dull wait. Instead, she finds herself exchanging intimate fantasies with her hot young journalist seat mate. But what is he doing with a state of the art sex toy in his carry-on luggage??
(And what's so different about it? That's a surprise, for Aurora and for you, dear readers!)
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Here's an excerpt from A SWORD IN THE SKY. For a much hotter excerpt, and to buy the book, visit www.extasybooks.com. You must be 18 to buy this book!
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Clay looked at her closely. "You're right. I'd be projecting, not thinking about you. That's awesome. Maybe you should start. Tell me my fantasy, as you imagine it."
Aurora nodded. "Okay. Let me think too. I've never tried to see it from a man's point of view, and I don't know you, of course." She shut her eyes, and thought. Now, what would a man like this imagine, as his favorite fantasy? "Does it have to be sexual?" she asked.
"I'll give you a hint," Clay answered. "My favorite fantasy is definitely sexual."
"Fine," she said. "Give me another minute." After another moment, she began. “You’ve caught a glimpse of her, many times before. She walks past you on the street, you see her in the halls at work, sometimes at the café. But she never stops to talk; you don’t even know her name.
“She isn’t tall, or skinny. She’s about average in height, and she’s got long black hair, like mine, only shinier. She’s curvy, oh my, is she curvy. Her breasts are round and full-looking, and she wears sweaters and t-shirts that show off those orbs. Her nipples sometimes perk up, and you imagine running your hands over them, your tongue, and suckling them.
“Her hips are curvy too, and her bottom is certainly round under that clinging skirt she usually wears. When she walks, those hips sway, provoking you with their rhythm. She wears little heels, so her butt is lifted even more.
“Her eyes are sultry, and her lips are red and rich-looking. But she never stops to talk, she never stops at all. So you sit at your desk and wonder about her.
“Today, though, when you step outside to go to the café across the street, the wind is blowing hard, the way it can in the spring in downtown Denver. It’s whipping around the corners, with a sharp little chill in the warm air. To your delight, you see your dream-girl come out of the other elevator, and head to the door. You rush to hold the door for her. She is wearing a tight black t-shirt, and a short, black and white flirty little skirt. She turns and smiles at you, and your heart thuds.
“The wind takes that moment to whip around, and her skirt flies up in front of her. She laughs into the wind, and bats the skirt down, but not before you’ve gotten a glimpse of her legs, and better, the dark shadowy cleft between them. She has nothing on below her skirt.
“You see that her nipples are standing upright in the wind, and you know she wears no bra, either. Like a boy ten years younger than you are, you feel yourself become erect and hard right there in the street. You touch her arm, and invite her for coffee.
