Tease Me Thursday

Tease Me Thursday

/ Jen Bradlee / 1 Comment

Here’s this weeks teaser. It’s a scene I’m going to use in a novella. A masquerade story set in the 19th century.

Enjoy…

******WARNING:  NSFW, I repeat NSFW. Sexy fun time descriptions.************

 

“Sweet Julia,” he breathed, leaning closer. “Would you do me the honor of your company?”
I open my mouth slightly to protest his charming words, and his lips press down upon mine in a cunning, gentle kiss.

“Come, my lady,” he says, meeting my gaze. “Let us away.”

He takes my hand and leads me to a darkened chamber off to the side of the main ballroom. Once inside, he closes the door and locks it.  His gaze is predatory as he turns and stalks toward me. He pins me up against the wall, his hands framing my body.  His warmth envelops me, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

“What do you wish of me, your grace?” I whisper as he slides his hand up over my hip.

“My lady, I want your beauty for myself.” His breath caresses my lips. I suddenly want to taste him. His hand cups my breast through the gown. I curse the fabric, wanting us skin to skin, with nothing inhibiting his touch. He leans into me, his lean, strong body pressing against me.

I whimper as his lips brush against my jaw. “My lord…I…I….”

“Tonight,” he murmurs between kisses, “you are mine.”

“What about the ball, your father, the guests?” I rasp out as he slowly inches up my skirt. His fingers trail over the silk and velvet, letting the cool air kissing my thighs. I’m overwhelmed with sensation. He lifts his head and looks at me. His blue eyes are the color of midnight.

His fingertips brush against my thigh, sliding up underneath my drawers. When he touches my center, I shiver with anticipation. “You’re so wet. Have you been thinking of me, hoping that I’d notice you?”

“Aye, my lord.” I can barely get the words out as he dips his finger inside of me.

He claims my lips in a punishing kiss.  I taste the wine spiced with desire on his lips as he plunders my mouth.  My hands slip into his hair, wrapping in the curls, tugging.  His kiss is only intensified by the gentle stroking of his hand between my legs.  He slides two fingers inside of me and I cry out against his mouth.  His other hand slides into my bodice, cupping my breast.

I’m about to explode from the onslaught.  His touch ignites a fire of pure desire, coiling deep in my belly.

“Oh, my wicked girl.  Is this what you wanted?” he whispers into my mouth as I gasp with pleasure.

“Aye,” I say on a gasp.

“Would you give yourself to me?  Completely?”

 

Oh, I’m such a tease. *wink* What did you think?

Tease Me Thursday

/ Jen Bradlee / 2 Comments

Here’s another snippet of Crispin’s story. *wink* Enjoy.

**Warning: Violence**

Crispin stepped down onto the street when suddenly he was surrounded by four men. The two standing to his right and left grabbed his arms, while the third wrapped his arm around his throat from behind. He thrashed against their grasp, but they were huge, hulking beasts. He was out-manned and outmaneuvered. God’sblood, teeth, and bones.

“You and I have unfinished business,” the fourth man said, stepping into the light, allowing Crispin to see his face.

“You bloody bastard,” Crispin swore. “I’ll have your head for this.Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?”

“The ass who stole my whore,” the man said, contempt dripping from his voice. “I don’t give cocks crow who you are.” He threw a punch, and it landed in Crispin’s stomach, knocking the air from his chest. “But you’re gonna pay.”

Crispin jerked, trying to break free, wheezing for breath. The man holding his head released him but stood like a solid wall against his back. He had to defend himself, but they were too strong. Three more blows landed in succession, two to his midsection and one cracking him across the jaw. The pain shot through him as the warm, coppery tang of blood filled his mouth. He spit.

“That the best you got?” Crispin knew it would only enrage the beast more, but he never did learn to back down, even in the most hopeless situations.

The man threw another punch, square in the chest over his heart. Crispin thought his heart stopped with that blow. The world began to spin as he gasped for breath, doubling over.The men still held him steady. Crispin coughed, spewing blood all over the man’s shoes. The assailant grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head back. He winced and then narrowed his gaze, refusing to show weakness.

A yelp of pain to his right was followed by his sudden release. A moment later, the second man released him, clutching at his arm. The man behind them backed away, as if sensing something wasn’t right. Crispin stumbled forward, trying to catch his breath. His eyes watered from the pain throbbing in his head.He glanced up and saw the man who had just been hitting him standing as still as a marble statue. Then Crispin saw the arrow protruding from the man’s chest. The man pitched forward and Crispin scrambled out of the way, slamming into the ground.

He lay there, staring up into the starlit night catching his breath. A figure stepped into his view wearing a dark cloak with the hood pulled up.

“You just gonna lay there and bleed?”

 

That’s all for this week. Stay wicked my friends.

❤ Jen

Tease Me Thursday

/ Jen Bradlee / Leave a comment

This week I present another little gem created from a writing exercise that waits for it’s own full story.  Short and sweet.

**Warning: Not sexy, unless you’re into that kinda kink. **

Writing prompt was:  There’s nothing like the smell of…

 

There’s nothing like the smell of blood and decay as I wade through the filth that is my life. The giant steps I take, stepping over the bodies and decapitated heads, gives me an adrenaline rush. The coppery twang and the odor of rotting meat reaches my nose. It smells like victory.

I did this. Me. With my own two hands, I created this carnage. A grim smile touches my lips. I inhale deeply filling my lungs with the stench and the power.

Today I was a god, taking the lives of those less deserving of life. By facing me they forfeit their right to breathe. Their right to walk this world.

I am the reaper of their souls.

Why, you ask?

Because I can.

 

I was having a dark day. It just came spilling out. I have no idea what the story is behind that snippet, but I know some people who would sell their souls to find out.

❤ Jen

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