Journal
Talking About Emotion
I'm talking about emotion over at Lana Griffen's blog, and am posting the related scene here as her blog is PG. Good thing mine isn't! 
This is a bit from Dark Harmony - enjoy!
So, the bastard thought he could be her master. Well forget it.
“I’ve had one master and am done with it. I’ll never beg again for mercy or release,” she hissed at him.
There was only a few hours left before dawn. She could feel the pressure of it, the danger of the rising sun. There would be time for this, she would make time. She would make him beg for her.
She could see him, even if he couldn’t see her. Her improved eyesight was a change for the better that she would never be sorry for. The tiny amount of light that filtered from the porch lights on Richard’s back door reached her inside the edge of the woods. He looked shocked.
She stepped back, kicked off her heels, quickly, efficiently. She dragged her purse-strap over her head and tossed it aside. Shedding her few clothes, damp now anyway from the earth, she threw them over a nearby bush, even though there was no chance they would have time to dry. Then she knelt, and straddled him.
“Lena,” he whispered. She could hear the confusion and regret in his voice, but didn’t care. She didn’t bother to extend her emotional sensors toward him. why take in his negativity? She knew he wanted to humiliate her, just as Darien had, by making her give into her desires and give into him.
Now he would do the begging.
“Relax. It won’t hurt. Much.” The words were hauntingly familiar and she used them on purpose. Let him feel what it is to be afraid and yet desperately needing her. Just as she had felt that need in the past.
She bent to kiss him, using her powers now to boost his arousal. He groaned against her lips. He reached out to clasp her to him, but she caught his hands, clasped his wrists together and held them above his head, pinning him to the ground with one hand. She thrust her tongue into his mouth and tasted his masculine flavor. Delicious, but she was still too angry to fully savor it.
She reached down as he had to rip at his shirt, doing it roughly enough that it ripped under her nails and she scratched the bare skin of his chest. His hips thrust upward under the heat of her pussy. She pinched his flat nipple, twisting and rolling it in her fingers. Her tongue continued to plunge in and out of his mouth, mimicking the action her pheromones should be promising his body by now.
The desire to bite was there, to gorge again on his blood. She didn’t need it, but she wanted it. He was getting to her, despite her anger. He writhed beneath her, his arousal evident despite what she knew he must feel, embarrassment that she had turned the tables on him, that she rode him now and took what she like when he had intended to be in charge.
She deepened the kiss, moved from a simple penetration and plundering of his lips to a delicate mating of the mouths. She nibbled him, sucked him, devoured him. And while her greedy mouth destroyed him, she unsnapped his pants and drew down the zipper.
“Lena…” He voiced encouragement through their kiss. Or was it complaint? She refused to open her senses enough to know for sure.
This is a bit from Dark Harmony - enjoy!
So, the bastard thought he could be her master. Well forget it.
“I’ve had one master and am done with it. I’ll never beg again for mercy or release,” she hissed at him.
There was only a few hours left before dawn. She could feel the pressure of it, the danger of the rising sun. There would be time for this, she would make time. She would make him beg for her.
She could see him, even if he couldn’t see her. Her improved eyesight was a change for the better that she would never be sorry for. The tiny amount of light that filtered from the porch lights on Richard’s back door reached her inside the edge of the woods. He looked shocked.
She stepped back, kicked off her heels, quickly, efficiently. She dragged her purse-strap over her head and tossed it aside. Shedding her few clothes, damp now anyway from the earth, she threw them over a nearby bush, even though there was no chance they would have time to dry. Then she knelt, and straddled him.
“Lena,” he whispered. She could hear the confusion and regret in his voice, but didn’t care. She didn’t bother to extend her emotional sensors toward him. why take in his negativity? She knew he wanted to humiliate her, just as Darien had, by making her give into her desires and give into him.
Now he would do the begging.
“Relax. It won’t hurt. Much.” The words were hauntingly familiar and she used them on purpose. Let him feel what it is to be afraid and yet desperately needing her. Just as she had felt that need in the past.
She bent to kiss him, using her powers now to boost his arousal. He groaned against her lips. He reached out to clasp her to him, but she caught his hands, clasped his wrists together and held them above his head, pinning him to the ground with one hand. She thrust her tongue into his mouth and tasted his masculine flavor. Delicious, but she was still too angry to fully savor it.
She reached down as he had to rip at his shirt, doing it roughly enough that it ripped under her nails and she scratched the bare skin of his chest. His hips thrust upward under the heat of her pussy. She pinched his flat nipple, twisting and rolling it in her fingers. Her tongue continued to plunge in and out of his mouth, mimicking the action her pheromones should be promising his body by now.
The desire to bite was there, to gorge again on his blood. She didn’t need it, but she wanted it. He was getting to her, despite her anger. He writhed beneath her, his arousal evident despite what she knew he must feel, embarrassment that she had turned the tables on him, that she rode him now and took what she like when he had intended to be in charge.
She deepened the kiss, moved from a simple penetration and plundering of his lips to a delicate mating of the mouths. She nibbled him, sucked him, devoured him. And while her greedy mouth destroyed him, she unsnapped his pants and drew down the zipper.
“Lena…” He voiced encouragement through their kiss. Or was it complaint? She refused to open her senses enough to know for sure.
Posted on 02 Apr 2010 by Lilly Cain