Fearfully Delicious Read online

  6470A Glenway Avenue, #109

  Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  eBook ISBN 1-59426-552-6

  Fearfully Delicious © 2005 by Adrianna Dane

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Cover art © 2005 by Stacey L. King

  Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC.

  www.Phaze.com

  “What do you think?”

  The house in Kearney Hollow was a find. It was exactly the kind of place Sevra would love. An old farmhouse, abandoned long ago, located on a lonely, dirt road—dense woods on one side and the family cemetery on the other. Robert had searched a long time to find the perfect spot.

  He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she gazed out the passenger-side window at the passing desolate countryside. It was almost midnight. He reached out and lifted her hand from her lap and brought it to his lips, felt the accelerated beat of her pulse against his mouth. It told him what he wanted to know.

  “How did you find out about this place?”

  He smiled. “That would be telling. You trust me, right?”

  Glancing at her, he saw her lips tremble, the muscles in her throat tightened as she swallowed. His cock hardened in anticipation at the thought of her lovely red lips wrapped around his stiff prick, taking him deep, swallowing his seed. Damn, she was so good at that, her mouth so warm and moist.

  And her silky, shoulder-length blonde hair. He enjoyed feeling it whisk across his skin, stroking his balls. He glanced quickly out at the landscape, thankful they were close to their destination, because he was ready to have her go down on him right here, as they passed through the shadowy twilight.

  She turned her large, liquid brown gaze on him. He loved her eyes, the color of aged whiskey rimmed in velvet night, expressive echoes of her intense emotions. “Of course, I trust you. I was just curious.”

  He could smell her arousal. And her fear. Sevra loved the edge. And it was Robert’s job to find that edge, keep her there, poised at the precipice, begging for release, yet protecting her from harm. In the year and a half they’d dated, and the last six months of living together, he’d come to understand Sevra very well. It gave him as much pleasure to be able to give her what she wanted—no, needed—to set the stage so to speak, as in the actual act of making love.

  When he found the right recipe, her reactions were so passionate and all-consuming, he found himself totally enthralled with her sensual abandon. In every way she pleased him more than he’d ever thought it possible to be content with one woman. She was passionate, adventurous, intelligent, and loving. Sexually, there was very little she would not willingly do with him—for him. She satisfied him in ways he’d never imagined. And she continually challenged him.

  Professionally, they worked for the same investment company as investment advisors. It’s how they’d first met. And as they’d gotten to know each other better, they’d found they had a lot in common, particularly in movies.

  Their first date had been on Halloween and they’d gone to a special showing of Dracula starring Bela Lugosi. Between the two of them, they had a large collection of the vintage horror films on DVD, but they enjoyed seeing them on the large movie theater screens.

  It was also when he began to surmise something else, something, Sevra later told him, none of her other lovers had figured out.

  Sevra liked being scared. Oh, not all the time, just on certain occasions. And she particularly liked watching the old movies just before making love. It sent the adrenaline racing through her, releasing the endorphins, making her more aware of everything around, she said. What Robert also discovered was that Sevra ran hotter than molten lava if the fear factor was involved.

  It became a game they played, and a challenge to him, to find other ways to send her endorphins into overload. Tonight was an example of the lengths he’d go to give her what she needed. And already it was having an effect.

  She always left it in his hands to set the stage and provide the props. It heightened the edge. The fact that she trusted him to protect her through these scenes sent a surge of adrenalin soaring through him. Different from what she needed, but just as potent.

  It was always a planned activity. He didn’t do this fear-play because he wanted to scare her silly. He wanted her happy, to give her pleasure, and this was the way she wanted it. Her state of mind accentuated her desire, and her responses.

  He saw the faint outline of the house against the dense night sky. They were almost there.

  Turning into the driveway, he turned off the engine. He watched her as they sat silently in the car, staring at the old house. It reminded him of the house in that 1963 haunted house movie starring Julie Harris. That movie still gave him chills every time he watched it.

  He unfastened his seatbelt and opened his door. “Wait here,” he instructed her.

  “Alone?” He heard the wobble in her voice.

  “I need to get things ready.” He opened the back door and pulled out a small duffle bag. “I’ll be right back.”

  A jerky nod was her only response. He hesitated. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  She turned to look at him, her light hair shimmered in the darkness. “I know you’ll take care of me. But if you don’t hurry, I’m liable to fuck you right here before you go near that house.” Her lids lowered. “I’m wet for you, Robert. Very wet. You’ve got me where you want me already.”

  He chuckled and slung the bag across his shoulder. “Baby, we’ve only started. And don’t you dare touch yourself while I’m gone.”

  “Then hurry up, dammit.” She turned back to look at the house. “Do you think it’s haunted?” she whispered.

  “Might be.” He turned away and strode toward the front door. Damn, she was already steaming, and his cock throbbed painfully against the zipper of his jeans. But this was a special night and they were going to take it slow.

  * * *

  Damn, I love that man. How could she not? Out of all the men she’d dated over the years, he was the only one who’d discovered her secret fetish. And he didn’t think she was a nut case because of it. In fact, he did everything he could to accommodate her, to thrill her.

  And it wasn’t only the fear factor thing; he was the most romantic man. Instead of making her feel like he was simply humoring her with these adrenaline rush scenes, he made her feel he did it for them both, that he was as involved as she was. And she loved him all the more for doing that.

  In the office they were equals, and he always listened to her ideas, and consulted her about new clients and emerging investment possibilities. Even at home, they were partners in all ways. It was only sexually, in the bedroom so to speak, that he maintained the dominant role, and she loved it.

  She trusted him to take care of her when she was fully engaged and the endorphins seized control of her body. Watching the movies always enhanced her desire and turned her blood up to boiling, but Robert somehow made it all come alive by choreographing scenes that they actually became a part of. He made her fantasies live. No one had ever done that for her before.

  She squirmed in her seat. Where was he? She wanted to touch him. Undress him. Fuck him. Suck him. Her door was yanked open and she gasped. Her stomach balled and swir
led. Shifting in her seat, she looked up quickly and breathed a sigh of relief. How had he managed to reach the car without her seeing him? He was so good at the element of surprise, sending her blood pumping fast and hot through her veins.

  “Ready?” he asked as he reached for her hand to help her out.

  As she stood, she rubbed against him like a kitten seeking attention, her nipples already tightly beaded, aching to feel his hands on them. She wound herself around him.

  Standing on tiptoes, she reached up to nip at his ear. “We could do it right here.” Snaking her tongue out, she tickled the rim.

  “Not yet.” With a firm grip, he gently untangled her arms from around his neck.

  “Why?” she pouted.

  He shook his head. “Because I said so. Now, do you want to see the cemetery first or go inside and see if there are any ghosts?”

  “A cemetery? Where?” She turned away to look around, an eager fear enveloping her. It was too dark to make out anything. Then a beam of yellow light cornered a white picket fence. A flash of unearthly zombies moving toward her like the old cult classic rushed through her imagination. She shivered in delicious anticipation. What did Robert have planned?

  Looking over her shoulder at him, she found he was holding a large flashlight. She returned her gaze back to the fence surrounding the cemetery, intrigued, even as her pulse quickened. Cemeteries could be fascinating. So much history there. A tingling awareness took over, her pussy gushing with expectation, as excitement overran dread.

  The night was so silent, and the wind had picked up speed. She looked up at the sky to see the shadow of a fluffy cloud pass before the face of the moon. It was an Ichabod Crane kind of night, and again, she shook with morbid anticipation. What sort of little goblins awaited?

  “Well?” he inquired again.

  “The cemetery,” she responded, feeling as though she were caught in twilight, moving into an otherworldly sort of trance as she walked toward the open gate highlighted by Robert’s flashlight.

  He took her arm and guided her between the posts as they stepped across the uneven ground of the overgrown cemetery. Shadows of gravestones hovered around them. Again she shivered as a frigid breeze glanced across her skin, like a ghost passing through her.

  It was as though they were the only people left in the whole world. She remembered all those campfire ghost stories she and her friends told each other on sleepover nights such as this. Hanging corpses, blood dripping on cars, ghostly hitchhikers. Is that when all this had started for her, back with those adolescent horror stories? Those nights of trembling anticipation?

  She whirled toward Robert, snaking her hands along his hard chest. “Robert—” she whimpered. Her pussy pulsed with the need to have him inside her, shaking with its intensity. “Please, Robert, I need you.”

  Leaning over, he set the flashlight down on the head of a wide headstone. His warmth enveloped her, his arms encircled her. “Are you cold, baby?”

  “No,” she whispered. The ice-cold air surrounded her, but she was so blazing hot, it actually felt good.

  His hands slid beneath her cropped sweater and cupped her unbound breasts. He kneaded and stroked, teased and pulled. She arched into him. The fear acted like an aphrodisiac, and her pussy continued to weep, begging for attention, her panties soaked through. She ground her hips against him, could feel the hard bulge of his cock, knew he was ready.

  “Your skin’s on fire, honey. You’re hot enough to burn us both up.”

  She could no longer think coherently. The fire inside her burned her alive. She felt him lift her arms and pull the sweater over her head. The cold air blasted over her, her nipples tightening, her body throbbing. Instinctively, she reached down to press the heel of her hand against her mound, but before she could reach it, Robert pulled her hand away.

  “I—I need—” she moaned.

  “I know you do, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

  “Now—”

  “When I say so.” He unsnapped her jeans and tugged the zipper down. Then he stepped back and the cold air rushed over her, yet the heat radiated from her skin. It was a cool caress. He picked up the flashlight and beamed it on her.

  “What are you doing?” Holding a hand up, she squinted against the harsh glare.

  “I want to see you. Take your shoes and jeans off. Do it slowly.”

  “Here?”

  “Do you want to come?”

  “You know I do. And from the size of that bulge in your pants, so do you,” was her cheeky response.

  “I can wait. Can you?”

  He knew she couldn’t. The throb had become an ache, a burning wash of pain spiraling, growing larger. “What if someone sees us?”

  She heard him laugh. “Here? I don’t think so. The longer you hesitate—”

  She yanked off her sneakers, and then pushed the jeans over her hips and down her legs. She still retained her white thong panties. The damp air caressed her almost naked body.

  “Turn around.”

  She did as he asked, feeling the brittle leaves and cold pebbles pressing into the soles of her bare feet. The ground was damp, moist with the nighttime dew. Her thighs were the same, covered with her desire. She turned back to face him.

  “Now the thong.”

  She hooked her thumbs in the narrow elastic and pulled them down her legs, flicking them away. Then straightened back up.

  The beam of the flashlight roved over her body, like the stroking of his hands. The trees rustled, the scent of pine threaded through her senses. It was as though the night spoke to them, urging them on. An owl hooted in the distance. Then a scream, like a child’s cry, echoing through the trees.

  “What was that?” she said as gooseflesh erupted along her arms.

  “Probably a cat on the prowl.”

  “It sounded like a child.”

  He stepped closer to her. “Just ghosts, honey.”

  Her pussy spasmed. She was already so close to coming she doubted he’d be inside her more than a few seconds before she climaxed.

  He came closer. She felt his heat mingling with her own as he stepped near enough for his clothing to whisper against her skin. “Robert, I ache.”

  He reached out and traced a path with his index finger along the flesh of her arm. “Almost there. You’re beautiful. Your skin glows out here in the night. But it’s not ghostly, you’re warm, you radiate life. Do you know how much I love you?”

  She felt the tears begin to converge in her eyes. “I love you, too,” she whispered.

  “Sometimes I wonder how I managed to find you after looking for so long.” He placed a finger beneath her chin, briefly, then let his hand trail down between her breasts and over her stomach. “I know you, Sevra. I want you, just as you are. Do you believe me?”

  The tears spilled down her face and he wiped at them with the pad of his thumb. “I don’t know how or why, but, yes, I believe you,” she sniffed.

  She gasped, forgetting all about the tears as two of his fingers pierced her heat, driving deep. He captured her mouth, plunging his tongue inside, sucking, possessing.

  She heard the thump of the flashlight as it hit the ground and felt his other arm curve around her waist, nailing her to the spot. He pulled free of her mouth and nipped at her earlobe.

  All she could do was feel, to experience, to bend. She pushed her hips against his thrusting fingers. She felt them curl and catch her sensitive spot deep inside and she whimpered in rising frenzy. His thumb began to circle around her engorged clit, yet he didn’t touch it. Round and round he teased; she thrust her hips, reaching for his touch, needing it. He kept her there at the very edge as he began to plunge his fingers in and out, adding a third.

  She sobbed, her body urgent, hot, aching. His tongue teased her ear.

  “Do you feel them watching?” his voice was a rasp of fine sandpaper again smooth wood.

  “Who?” she gasped, groaning with want.

  “The spirits...the ghosts in the trees, in
the house. Do you feel their eyes on you? Watching you fuck my fingers.”

  “Robert, please let me come,” she begged. His words inflamed her, the desire splintered with fear, penetrating through her.

  He angled her against him. “They can see us,” he whispered. “Dance for them, baby. Show them how hot you cook. How sweet and sexy you move. How much you love knowing they’re out there, watching.”

  She heard another vague screech in the night and she stiffened, fighting for her release, her body sheened in perspiration.

  “Only a cat, baby, probably chasing dinner.” His thumb finally found her clit. “Now. Come for me now.”

  And come she did, fast and hard, her body shattering against him, unable to control herself. He caught her scream with his lips, drinking it, swallowing it, possessing it as her body pulsed, her juices flowing over his hand and down her thighs. He milked her body gently until she calmed.

  Removing his hand, he wrapped both arms around her, soothing her, petting her. At last, her trembling lessened and she sighed deeply.

  His hand stroked her hair. “That was beautiful, honey. So beautiful. Now we go inside.”

  “There’s more?” she murmured.

  She heard him chuckle. “That was foreplay, sweetheart.” He leaned down and picked up the flashlight, handing it to her.

  Her feet left the ground as he lifted her into his arms and strode from the cemetery to the house.

  “What about my clothes?”

  “Later. You won’t need them for a while. A long while.”

  She felt the passion begin to surge again at the thought of what else he might have planned. Feeling sated after her powerful climax, she felt like she floated in a haze as they ventured toward the porch. He set her on her feet and she stared at the door, trying to focus. She felt nothing but a distant kind of euphoria.

  Taking the flashlight from her, he then reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He unlocked the door and urged her forward. “They’re waiting, Sevra. Who do you think lived here? What happened to them? Maybe a poltergeist or two inside? Shall we go in and see what’s in store for us?”