creative writing

Tease Me Thursday

/ Jen Bradlee / Leave a comment

The Prince of Whispers has returned with another teasing tidbit.

**Warning: He’s addictive and naughty. NSFW. **

Ruby arched into the warmth. She was having the most delightful dream. Part of her never wanted to leave and have to face the realities of the world. She remembered Cris’s wicked whispers and sighed. Then she remembered laying down next to him and…she was still there, lying beside him. At some point during the night, they had become intertwined. Cris was pressed against her back, his arm thrown across her stomach, his legs tangled in hers. It was the insistent erection rubbing against her ass that made her moan.

Cris’s grip on her tightened, pulling her more firmly into contact with all of him. She bit her lip, suppressing a whimper. He had been right about one thing. She did want him, in every way a woman could possibly desire a man. Her thoughts drifted back to the night before, when he had her pinned beneath him. Never had she dreamed being dominated by a man could be so arousing. She had nearly given into his invitation. One night with him, one night to do as she wished.

He had wanted to kiss her. Part of her wanted him to do it, to take it. Why did she want to give him so much power over her? She had worked hard to be independent, to protect herself. Was she really willing to throw it away for Cris? No, but one night…She squashed that thought like a bug beneath a boot. That didn’t stop her from wondering if his kiss would be like the rest of him: confident, selfish, and intoxicating. Ruby had been kissed before, but most of them had been uninspiring and left her feeling dirty and ashamed. Something about Cris, the way he carried himself, told her his kiss would be life changing.

Ruby felt Cris’s breath on her shoulder, gently caressing her bare neck. Her body thrummed in tandem with her racing heart. She was aware of every breath, every touch. She closes her eyes, savoring every moment. Once he woke, the fantasy would shatter. Her breath came in soft pants, and she tried to steady them, focusing on nothing in particular.

The soft press of his lips against her bare skin made her shiver. Ruby feigned sleep, forcing herself not to react to him. Every feather-light kiss brought her one step closer to combustion. His hand drifted across her stomach, brushing against the underside of her breast. She sighed as his hand closed over it. Her body screamed in reaction, moisture flooding her drawers. All she had to do was roll over and claim his lips. Give into his touch, his seductive embrace. She rubbed her ass against him again, inadvertently encouraging him. He groaned and slid his hand down her body, cupping her sex through the trousers. At the touch, Ruby’s eyes flew open. She whimpered.

“My pet,” he whispered in her ear, drawing the lobe between his teeth.

 

*fans self* Woo, well if that didn’t set you on fire, you might want to check your pulse. Teasing. I’m teasing. 🙂  I hope you enjoyed today’s teaser.

❤ Jen

Tease Me Thursday

/ Jen Bradlee / 2 Comments

Today’s teaser is a writing prompt inspired journal entry…

The prompt was: “Write about losing control.”

 

A flash of flesh and my arm was locked in his vice-like grip. I stared at him dumbfounded.

“Let go of me,” I said simply, thinking he was playing games again.

His face was hard, his eyes holding a deadly opinion which he wisely kept to himself. Eyes locked in mute battle. I tried to charm him instead of giving into his wordless challenge.

I pulled myself within a fingertips distance of his rigid angry form.

“Something you want from me, Kale?” I flirted from beneath my lowered lashes. Allowing my free hand to roam over his torso, I traced his shirt buttons down to his waist. The grip on my wrist never faltered. It tightened.

“Ouch,” I grunted. “Damn you, Kale, that hurts! What the hell is your problem? Let me go!” I jerked my arm, torquing my wrist and pinching the flesh of my hand.

Then I noticed the movement reflected in the darkened window behind Kale. I froze, taking a moment to reorganize my thoughts. Kale leaned down on the pretense of nuzzling my neck and whispered.

“Hold your tongue.” Kale’s voice rumbled deep into my bones.

“Who is it?” I murmured slightly distracted by Kale’s wonderful masculine smell and his proximity.

“Be quiet and don’t move,” he replied. Lord, but he loved to give orders.

“How dare…” I began to retort pulling away from him. In the next instant we were on the floor with bullets whizzing over our heads. The pressure of Kale’s body pinning me to the floor was both enticing and infuriating. I was more than capable of handling myself in a firefight. But in the flash of a well muscled arm, I had lost control.

 

A story brewing there, perhaps? *wink* What do you think?

❤ Jen

Tease Me Thursday

/ Jen Bradlee / 4 Comments

I’ve brought Prince Crispin back to share a bit of his tale…enjoy.

**Warning: He’s rude and completely wicked. Spontaneous combustion of panties is possible. NSFW. **

 

As he eased himself into the scalding water, he sighed and his body immediately relaxed, soothed by the heat. Crispin leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and for the first time in more than a day, was able to indulge in the peace.

The sound of a door slamming startled him and he wrenched his eyes open. Ruby stood in his room, her back pressed against the door, her finger to her lips, pleading for his silence. He sat up, the tepid water sluicing around him. Her eyes widened as she realized that he was naked in the bath. She didn’t move. He grinned as the soft glow of a blush stole across her cheeks. So she wasn’t the ice queen she appeared to be.

A knock at the door broke his thoughts. “Just a moment,” he called. Crispin braced his hands on the sides of the wooden tub and lifted himself from the water. Without grabbing a drying cloth, he padded to the door where Ruby was standing, her jaw askew and her eyes as large as the full moon. He moved her against the wall and opened the door, hiding her behind it. A soldier stood in the hallway, his expression stern.

“I pray this is of great importance,” Crispin asked, boredom and irritation lacing his words.

“I beg your pardon, my lord,” the soldier stammered, taking notice of Crispin’s state of undress. “Have you seen a woman come through here?”

“I wish I could say I have. A woman to warm my bed might cure my ill temper after this. But sadly, I have not.” Crispin fixed his most intense princely glare on the soldier.

The man stammered and took a step back. “I am sorry to have disturbed your bath, my lord.” He turned and walked down the hall as though the hounds of hell nipped at his heels.

Crispin closed the door and locked it. He met Ruby’s gaze. “Can’t stay out of trouble, can you?”

Ruby shrugged, her gaze skimming across his face, daring to look lower, but hesitating at the last moment. He chuckled.

“I will leave you in peace, as soon as I’m sure they’ve gone,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thank you for not betraying my presence.”

Crispin pinned her against the wall, his hands on either side of her hips, his thighs brushing against her skirt. “Did you know I was in this room, or am I just the poor bloke you stumbled upon?”

“I knew you were here,” she said, tilting her chin up and meeting his gaze squarely. “I hoped that you would show a little compassion.”

His gaze narrowed. “Don’t mistake my interest in you for compassion, Ruby. I’ve never been a thoughtful or compassionate man.”

“What do you want from me?” she asked. “I have no coin, no wealth, nothing that would satisfy your greed.”

“Is that so,” he whispered, reaching up to brush his fingertips across her jaw and down her neck. She was softer than he’d imagined and his cock hardened at the solitary touch. “I think you underestimate your own value, my lady.” His hand stills instantly at the cold press of steel against his inner thigh.

“One more move, bastard, and I send an entire kingdom of whores into mourning.”

 

❤ Jen

Tease Me Thursday

/ Jen Bradlee / 4 Comments

Here’s a little number from a scene I’d written.  It’s not finished yet, but it was inspired by the Sherlock episode Scandal in Belgravia.  *wink*

**Warning: Explicit language and possibly offensive material…possibly. Just warning you.**

 

Then he saw her. Her auburn hair hung loose over her shoulders, grazing the cream silk shirt she wore. The secretary skirt did nothing to hide the curve of her hips or the long expanse of leg topped off with fuck me heels. She scanned the dining room.

He quickly lifted the newspaper, hiding his face. As he lowered it a bit, he saw her get a plate of eggs, a slice or two of bacon, some fruit and a cup of tea. He watched as she sat and ate alone in the corner. Her eyes took in everything. He shifted in his seat. He hoped to God she didn’t recognize him.

Once she’d finished her tea, she deposited her dishes in the receptacle and made her way to the ladies room.

William seized the opportunity and moved to another seat in the dining area. He opened his paper, pretending to read, when he heard the distinct click of heels on tile.

“You’re not being very discreet, darling,” she whispered in his ear.

He should have been prepared for her words.

“You haven’t turned the page for the last half hour.”

“Excuse me?” he said, deliberately turning the page and refusing to look at her. She stood behind his chair. Damn. He should have stayed by the window.

“You’ve been staring at the same page for over half an hour,” she said with a chuckle. It brushed across his sensitive earlobe. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Her skin smelled of lemons and jojoba oil.

“I heard you,” he said, clearing his throat. “What do you want?”

“I’m not the one pretending to read the paper.” Her breath brushed against his skin, feathering the delicate hairs on the base of his neck. “Yesterday’s paper, nonetheless.”

He folded the paper and plopped it onto the seat next to him, agitated he’d make such a trivial mistake. She shouldn’t have even been able to recognize him, the disguise had been perfectly planned down to the last detail. There was no reason to fret about it now. He knew better than to underestimate her.

“Would you care to join me?” he asked, forgoing all pretenses.

“Come along, darling,” she said. The words echoed soft in his ear as she moved away taking her scent and her delicious heat with her.

He turned in time to see her disappear around the corner. With a sigh, he stood and followed just moments behind. A small office sat with the door open. He glanced inside and found her perched on the edge of the desk, her legs crossed, tapping a solitary fingernail on the wooden surface. He entered the room, closing the door behind him and sliding the deadbolt home.

A wicked smile revealed her even white teeth. He wanted to bite her, eat her up, and show her what it meant to be devoured piece by piece until your soul is exposed and bleeding. Instead, he stood with three feet between them and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Well.” He waited.

She leaned forward, allowing her shirt to bunch in the front, exposing just enough of her cleavage to pull his gaze downward for a split second. When he met her eyes again, they were sparkling with amusement.

“You missed me.”

His hand absently reached for his collar, tugging at it.

She slipped from the desk and took a step closer to him, her heels matching their heights. He met her, eye to eye, refusing to be swayed by the chemical reaction heating his blood.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, darling.” Her words caressed his lips. The hot cinnamon of the gum she recently chewed lingered on her breath. She traced her fingertip along his collar. “A priest now, are you?”

“You know I’m not.”

Her finger trailed along his black button down shirt, and she pressed her palm to his heart. “Can I make my confessions, Father?”

He focused on his mission, the one thing he had to do. Her touch drove his mind into overdrive, her words blurring his thoughts.

Her green eyes blazed with unspoken desires. Today wasn’t going how he’d anticipated. Maybe dressing as a priest had been a bit of stretch, but he thought perhaps she’d overlook him, push the image of a passive priest reading the paper to the back of her mind. No, she’d locked on him like a heat seeking missile on a volcano. Fuck.

 

Comments and thoughts welcome. Thanks for stopping by! 🙂

❤ Jen

Tease Me Thursday

/ Jen Bradlee / 2 Comments

So I’ve decided to post a little teaser from my Work In Progress (WIP)…which is appropriately named considering the story and the character I’m writing about.

Without further ado…I present Prince Crispin.

**Warning: Vulgar language and sexual acts may be contained in this Teaser…that’s why it’s a teaser. You have been warned, carry on.**

 

“Be a good girl,” he said, tapping the slender whip on the edge of the bed. “Put your feet up. Let me see you spread bare for me.”

“Yes, my lord.” She lifted her legs and clasped her arms around them. Her smooth ass and swollen lips stood stark against the dark blankets on the bed.

“Very nice,” he said, appraising her with a smile crooked on his mouth. He ran the whip down the length of her leg and over her ass. “Now count to ten for me.” He brought the whip down across her bottom, eliciting a shriek from her followed by a moan of pleasure.

“One,” she said, her voice a small whimper. He brought the whip down again. “Two.”

He smiled at the flush of pleasure consuming her body. “Lovely.” He smacked the whip against her flesh again and again, each time harder than the last.

“Three…four…five…” She shrieked and moaned.

His cock was hard, straining against his trousers, aching to be released. When she reached ten, he put the whip down.

“On your knees,” he said, reaching for his belt. She scrambled to her knees, thrusting her ass in the air.

A knock sounded through the chamber. He frowned. How many times had he told them to leave him alone after dinner?

“I will not be disturbed,” he shouted.

“My lord,” a voice echoed through the solid wooden door. “Your father wishes to speak with you straight away.”

He glanced at the door, willing it to burst into flames.

“My lord,” the voice came again.

“I’m coming,” he yelled, tossing the whip down. He glanced at the naked wench on his bed. “Cover yourself.”

 

Want more?  Check back next week for another taste of my Prince of Whispers.

@–/—- ❤   Jen

Writing Process

/ Jen Bradlee / 2 Comments

Chris Musgrave, you flatter me, sir. While Chris embraces his dark side by writing horror, I tend to embrace my sensual side and write romance…well romantic erotica to be specific. It’s a fine line between romance and erotica. I also like to focus on the darker side of romance, the forbidden pleasures of the flesh, all the while being sure to incorporate elements of love into the process. So no, it’s not all about the sex; it’s about the journey of sensual discovery.

I’ve been remiss in posting since the A-Z Blog Challenge, for that I apologize. But twenty-six posts in a row is enough to fry anyone’s brain. Especially when mine focused on Loki…*purrs like a contented kitten*. Wait, where was I? Oh, yes, writing process post…forgive me, it seems my muse has decided to participate in the daily torture of my creative process.

Chris has requested I answer four questions:

  • What am I working on at the moment?
  • How does my work differ from others of its genre?
  • Why do I write what I do?
  • How does my writing process work?

Then came the catch: find three worthy writers and force them to answer the same questions. I have no idea who I should nominate who hasn’t been already, so I’m not tagging anyone, and you can’t make me. *sticks tongue out* I do what I want.

Now, moving on darlings, I have quite a full day here…Must remain focused.

What am I working on at the moment?

I’m working on a medieval romantic erotica tale. I haven’t decided if it’s a series of novellas or a novel, those details are to be determined at a later date (as in once I’ve finished writing it all down.)

Now, the idea for this story was born of the Dirty Loki Whispers. I’ll confess it now, I like them. Sue me. But they sparked some whispers of their own in my mind. So I began writing them down and realized…they weren’t Loki. The delightful whispers came from a medieval prince, Crispin. He soon became a frequent resident of my thoughts and thus his story demanded to be told.

I am at his mercy…and I like it. Don’t send help.

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I have no idea. I’d like to think I’m unique. Most romantic erotica or general erotica stories have a contemporary setting. Mine…well, not so much. I gravitate toward historical. I think that sets my stories apart.

While I try to be historically accurate, I do take artistic license. Isn’t that the point of fiction though? *grins*

Why do I write what I do?

I like romance, I love sex, and I’m passionate about writing. So why not combine all three and write what I would WANT to read. Plus it’s illegal to kidnap people and force them to act out your fantasies. So there’s that conundrum. *teasing* Don’t take life too seriously, you’ll never get out alive.

In all honesty, I write what my characters tell me to write. A spark, an idea takes root and I let it grow, shaping it into something precious and unique. It’s a curse some times, having all those characters inhabit your brain, fighting for your attention. And to make it worse, my sexy imagination often takes things to the next level. Is it hot in here? Oh no, that’s just my characters plotting their next tryst. *giggles*

How does my writing process work?

What works for me is just sitting my butt in the chair and writing. I do writing sprints with prompts to get my brain in gear. I also enjoy writing with other writers while on Skype. It forces me to be productive, and they hold me accountable. Sometimes whips are involved.

I do use a basic outline, so I have a general direction for the story. But I allow a lot of free reign for my characters to show me their journey. When I let them speak, it often comes out more naturally than if I try to strong arm them into compliance. Crispin is often amused by my attempts to dominate him.

Ultimately, I wish I could write more and at a faster pace, but I’m truly blessed with the small community of writer’s I’ve surrounded myself with because they push me to constantly improve my craft.

 

You can find my group here: http://thesarcasticmuse.com

 

We also have a page of writing prompts that post daily: http://thesarcasticmuse.tumblr.com