I love trapping a couple in a situation they can’t retreat from. In my debut novel, Eternity, I’ve trapped my couple, Roman and Stella, in a cabin in the woods. They can’t leave because they’re hiding from a serial killer. In the secluded cabin, they admit they love each other and together they defeat an enemy sent from the Egyptian Gods.
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Now for a snow melting excerpt of Eternity:
Roman hovered over Stella as she came back to earth. Waiting for entry, he rubbed his swollen tip against her opening. The coldness in his soul begged for her warmth, her slippery heat surrounding him, but most of all his soul begged for her trust. To trust him not to hurt her. Trust him with her body, her heart and soul.
Stella opened her eyes. “Roman.” She smiled dreamily and then immediately stiffened.
“Sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you. Relax.” But all of her muscle tensed, waiting for an attack. Her small hands pushed against him.
He couldn’t do this; take what she wasn’t ready to give. Defeated, he laid his head on her shoulder. His hope disintegrating.
“He hurt me,” she whispered against his neck.
Roman buried his pain and kissed her collarbone, her neck and jaw, her eyes, the tip of her nose and finally her lips. No passion, no lust, just two shattered souls clinging to each other. She clung to him, giving as much comfort as she received. Carefully, he slid his hand between them. “Where did he hurt you, Stella?” he touched her core and rubbed with little flicks of his fingers. “Was it here?”
She nodded. Her hips surged against his palm. Tears cleared and stormy gray eyes danced passionately. He stroked her again. She moaned and held his gaze while her hips undulated.
“Am I hurting you?” He slipped in a finger and stirred and ground his palm against her clit.
“Roman.” She gasped and brought her lips to his.
“Am I hurting you?” he repeated the question.
“No . . . no . . .” She shook her head back and forth as her body reawakened for him.
“Tell me how you feel.” He breathed in her ear before he took the lobe between his teeth.
“Oh God, it’s exquisite.” Her eyelids fluttered.
“Look at me.” Urgently, he positioned himself at her opening, waiting for permission to enter. “Am I the man who hurt you?”
“Am I the man that tried to kill you?”
“No, Roman, no. You’re not him.” Her voice quivered with need.
“Take me.” Ready and waiting for her touch, he took her hand and guided her to him. He died a little when her cool fingers wrapped around him. She stroked—up, down, around—and led him to her wet center.
Again, her body braced for pain.
He captured her face and entered her slowly. He worked himself inside her wetness, losing his mind in excruciating increments as her legs fell open and her hips tilted to receive more. “Siete bello. Ti amo. Lascilo all’interno del vostro corpo stretto.” In Italian, he spoke words of love as he slowly lost his mind.
“Yes.” Her voice strained as waves rippled from her core, tightening and releasing her slick walls around him.
He settled inside her and begged for the strength not to come. Then he set the rhythm and watched ecstasy spread throughout her body. Her legs wrapped his waist and he lengthened his strokes, diving deeper into her heat, his control slipping. She writhed beneath him. His hands grabbed her hips. Her nails raked his chest and she moaned his name.
Wild and frantic, Stella pulled his head down to hers. Weight braced on his elbows, Roman held her face as he moved harder into her. Never would he forget this moment when she completely gave herself to pleasure. Head thrown back, hair streaming, her body thrashed while her tightness seized him. “Who’s loving you, giving you pleasure? . . . I am.”
Passionate cries sang in his ear as he thrust deep inside her. He wrapped his arms around her and released. Centuries of loneliness and searching fell away and the coldness at his center vanished. Panting, still hard inside her, he watched her come back to earth and waited for that moment of recognition. She was going to remember everything now. And all would be right.