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Here is a little teaser from the current Steampunk Erotica WIP with Michael Hillcrest- posted earlier in the week on Facebook.


 “Beg me for more.” She carried the blade up the path towards his throat again.

“I can not.” He steadied his breath as the weapon pressed into the flesh beneath his chiseled chin.

“Dare you deny me?” A drop of blood collected in the twist of the blade as she insisted he submit.

“Decide my fate and carry it out, m’lady.” He twinged with the pain of the slice. “I am but a married man and a servant of God. I shall not betray my vows.”

“Vows?” She removed the blade from his neck as she leaded her face by his ear. “In this moment, dear sir, I am the only one you need to be concerned about betraying,” she whispered.

Her thumb wiped across his tiny wound. She examined the pulled off blood on top of her thumb before sticking it inside of her mouth for a taste. She moaned. Adam, stunned, watched as she sucked his redness from her hand.

“Your turn for a taste.” She slid her body up, pressing against him.

“I promise, I have no need to taste my own blood.” He shook his head. “Thank you just the same.”

“Not blood,” she giggled as her exposed body pressed its dampness against his stomach.

She edged the length of his body. One at a time, she crossed her legs over his shoulders, resting them behind his bound arms. The delicate hosiery grazed his cheeks like a finely woven silk. Her dampness carried a sweet scent as she dangled slightly above his face. His mouth watered as he pondered whether her flavor matched her wet aroma.

Adam knew she had won. He had protested. Invoked his status as a married man. Referenced his vows. But intoxicated by the pungent sweetness torturously close to his hungry tongue, his resolve failed him.

This was something to which he was unaccustomed. Not just an aggressive woman who could use her sexuality as a weapon. A woman who, unlike his wife, clearly enjoyed sex and the power it gave her over him. But also the act itself. Isabelle had always considered oral sex dirty. Indeed, there were laws against it–rarely enforced, but duly enacted as respresentative of the prevailing morals of the upper classes. And he was a magistrate, sworn to uphold and enforce such laws.

He looked up at the criminal straddling his face. She was looking up as well, her eyes closed as she caressed her own breasts, her nipples peeking through the fingers sliding over them. She looked down at him, rocking her hips just out of his mouth’s reach.

“Do you want to taste me, Adam? Do you want to taste my sweetness?”

Adam felt the blood rush even harder into his erection. His heart beat in his ears. His eyes were filled with her beauty and his nose was filled with her scent.

“Yes,” he whispered.


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