Purple Prose as written by Eryka L. Peskin, as “an amalgam of author many influences: Linda Howard, Elizabeth Lowell, Susan Johnson, some Jayne Anne Krentz., and some Rachel Gibson for the road. Enjoy!
Building a Mystery
“I cant believe that this is happening to me!” Sarah Sue moaned, banging on the door once more for good measure. But it was true. There was no doubt. She was locked in the building. Alone. For the rest of the night.
Sarah Sue had a charming penchant for talking to herself when she thought she was alone, and muttered to herself about the dangers of workaholicism. Then, just when she thought it couldnt get any worse, the electricity went out. “Oh, no!” she moaned. Simultaneously the air stopped, the pervading silence suddenly loud in her ears.
Sarah Sue immediately felt the temperature change. New York in the summer without air conditioning was no small matter, and without the a/c fighting the heat-well, Sarah Sue knew that shed have to get out of there soon.
She whipped her cell phone out of her bag. She realized that this wasnt exactly an emergency, so she dialed the non-emergency police number. All she got was the fast busy signal-the one that signified that the number wasnt working. She tried again. This time she got that annoying tone and the You have reached a number that is no longer in service. . . ” message. Once more. At last! It was ringing! And then. . . nothing. The battery had died-again.
She strode over to the security desk. The phone was offline, and she didnt know the code to activate it. She stood by the door, thoughtfully chewing her full lower lip, trying to figure a way out of the reality of this calamitous situation.
“Is there a problem, Miss?” a husky deep voice asked.
She couldnt help it; she shrieked. Loudly. She pressed her back to the tinted glass window. “Who. . . whos there?” she asked nervously.
“Dont be alarmed, the voice soothed. Im doing some work on the building electrical system. Thats why it went out. Thats why you cant get out. Itll be fixed soon.”
“Where are you? Who are you?” Sarah Sue asked of the sexy voice, still wary, still cautious. “Im right here.” A shape began to form out of the shadows by the elevator. The light of the setting sun pierced through the windows, illuminating his face.
Sarah Sue barely managed to hold back a gasp at the Adonis in front of her. He was tall, well over a foot taller than her tiny 51 frame. He was tall and rangy, the ropy muscles in his arms well defined. The light cast his chiseled cheekbones and jaw into stark relief, and illumined his royal blue eyes. A frisson of pure desire shot uncontrollably through her.
She had to clear her throat several times. “Promise?”
By that point he was right in front of her. He placed his hand on her face, rubbing her cheek. “I promise,” he comforted.
Sarah Sue couldnt help herself; she nestled her face into his hand and felt herself drown in his eyes. It had been so long since shed felt any kind of connection with a man. Not since that disastrous love affair years ago
and it had never, ever been so strong.
“Youre so beautiful,” he whispered in awe. His thumb toyed with her lips, and she swallowed hard. Again.
“Th-thanks,” she whispered past the obstruction in her throat. She managed to tear her gaze from him. She thought she should pull away and put some distance between herself and this wondrous creature, but Sarah Sue was rendered immobile by desire and want.
Sarah Sue was a modern woman, and had learned that to get what you want, you have to reach out and take it. Even as these thoughts of empowerment were running through her mind, lust and desire were fogging up her normally acute thought processes. I know I shouldnt-I hardly know him. . . but how I want to kiss him!
“I know I just met you,” he murmured huskily. He ran his hand over her silky hair. “But – “ he paused. “I have to kiss you.” And with that, his strong mouth came stormily down on hers.
Sarah Sue was overwhelmed by the assault. The obdurate pressure of his mouth forced her own open, and the moist citadel was conquered by his marauding tongue. Moments – years? – passed by her, and she tore her lips away from his before she fainted from lack of oxygen.
Deprived of the sweet succulence of her lips, his own lips and tongue traveled down the sensitive line of her throat. He felt her pulse beating rapidly under her skin, and laved the area, drawing the skin into his mouth. She gasped at the sensation, astounded at the explosions taking place over her nerve endings.
His hands, which had caged her against the window, had transplanted themselves to her waist. His thumbs drew erotic circular patterns on her hips, and slowly, her skirt was rising, dragged inexorably upward by his big, powerful hands.
Sarah Sue knew that this was wrong – he was just a stranger! – but the tide of desire was sweeping her along. Somehow her hands found their way to his head, and she wove her fingers through his sleek hair. Distantly she wondered what hair product he used. His hair was so silky! But her jealousy, along with her second thoughts, continued to drift away.
His hands slid upward until his thumbs were pressing against the bottoms of her full breasts. “Touch me,” she whispered throatily. She placed one of her delicate hands on his, and dragged it up to cover her breast entirely. She gave a shudder of pure pleasure and gasped with delight. Her breast fit perfectly into his hand.
“Youre so small, so petite, so perfect. I can practically span your waist with my hands. But your breasts are so full and firm!” he growled.
Sarah Sue melted. “And youre so big and strong!” She measured her hand against his, pressing it against her breast.
“Look how big my hand is,” he rumbled. “See how completely is covers your breast.” He could feel the nipple harden in the center of his palm. His thumb swirled around it, plucking it to a sure point. His other hand came to her blouse and suavely opened the buttons, leaving her pale orbs open to his view.
Without further ado hed flicked open the front clasp of her lacey lavender bra. With a sigh of pleasure Sarah Sue clasped his hands to her aching breasts and leaned on the glass, weakened even more. The sun had almost completely sunken into the Hudson, leaving them immersed in darkness. But her pale body glowed like a beacon, drawing his hungry gaze to her voluptuousness.
He had to taste her. Now. Like a ravening wolf, he swooped down on her lusciousness. He drew her thrusting nipple into his mouth, laving, suckling, nipping. She moaned in delight, almost beside herself.
Dimwittedly Sarah Sue realized that though her breasts were exposed to lips and air, his own shirt was hiding his glory from her own eyes. She had to feel his skin next to hers. The compulsion couldnt be denied. With a will of their own (but supported by the will of her mind) her hands tore open his shirt, the buttons making pinging sounds as they hit the marble floor. With a sigh of relief, she ran her fingers over his well defined musculature.
“Oooh, youre so big and strong,” she breathed.
“Mnrmph,” he mumbled into the deep valley between her breasts.
He released her nipple came out of his mouth with an audible pop. “Thanks.” He grinned up at her wolfishly. Unable to withstand the brief torture of having his lips removed from her breast for even a millisecond, she grasped his head and shoved it right back where it belonged.
After a moment of frantic suckling he needed to make her his own – in all ways.
It seemed that Sarah Sue read his mind: “I need you inside me. Now!” she uttered. Not one to wait when she was in the moment, she finished stripping his now buttonless shirt from his broad and muscular shoulders. When it caught on his arms, she made a sound of impatience and ripped it clean from his body.
“Do you work out?” he murmured against her lips.
“Of course,” she said, intent on her task. His shirt off, she was free to take in his resplendently mighty chest. It was the kind of chest that inspired women to shove money down a mans pants. This time, however, Sarah Sues impulse was to get into his pants. She licked a path down the arrow of hair that pointed inevitably to his throbbing tumescence, now standing at titanic attention.
She struggled to unbutton his jeans, but her fingers were trembling a yearning to deep to control. “Let me,” he said thickly. With a few twists of his long, svelte fingers, his buttonfly Levis 501s were loosened. With a sigh of relief his manhood stood at attention, unfettered by the stiff denim, poking through his boxers.
Again, the only word Sarah Sue could emit was “Wow.” It was so big, particularly from her current vantage point-on her knees. Her mouth watered, and she took his bulging maleness into the hot wet cavern of her silken mouth.
A deep groan rumbled through the entirety of his buff body, and his hands entangled themselves in her curly glossy hair. Over and over she worked him, until he could take it no longer. “Inside you – I must be inside you,” he rasped, and pulled her head away. Again there was an audible pop.
Sarah Sue felt her liquid essence pooling between her silken thighs. With an ever increasing urgency, she pushed at his pants until they were around his legs. Savagely he kicked off his timberland hiking boots-and dimly heard the shattering of glass as a boot crashed into something breakable.
But he cared not, and neither did Sarah Sue. In fact Sarah Sue attributed the tinkling sound to the preorgasmic tension roaring through her slender body.
Sarah Sue felt herself sinking further and further into the succulent morass of her shameless yearnings. Whilst he was occupied by ridding himself of his very tight jeans, Sarah Sue entertained herself by playing with her breasts, continuing to stoke her own lustful fires.
Finally he was unclothed. Before her he stood tall, naked, proud, and sinfully gorgeous. “Let me do that,” he said, fascinated by her auto-love play. Gently he pushed her onto her back. Her shirt and bra were open, framing her luxuriant torso; her skirt ruched to her waist.
He licked an incendiary path down her torso, circling her nipples and navel, all the way down to her weeping mound of Venus.
Sarah Sue couldnt control her reaction any longer. She cascaded over the precipice, the explosions continuing for what seemed like aeons, convulsing gently. But there was something missing; she wasnt complete. She needed to feel him inside her. She writhed against his tongue, feeling her desire escalate anew. “Oh, please. Please,” she whimpered, twisting against him, unable to articulate.
But he knew what she wanted, and wanted it himself. He kissed his way up her body, latching onto her peaked nipple, so attuned to her body that he could feel the postorgasmic return of desire.
His control was dwindling. He had to be inside her, now, or he would embarrass himself in a way he hadnt since he was a teenager. The blunt tip of his pulsing rod was poised at the entrance to her love grotto. He penetrated slowly.
Sarah Sue was stunned at his breadth. Even though she was way aroused, and still wet from her previous paroxysm of bliss, he was still too large. A cry escaped her.
“I know it hurts,” he said manfully, trying to control his impulse to drive mercilessly into her moist warmth. But if there was one thing he had been taught, and taught well, it was that a man always waits for the pleasure of his woman. Sweat dripped from his face, splattering on the floor. He reached one hand down between her legs and toyed with her button of pleasure. As he played her like a lute, she relaxed more, and he entered her deeper.
On and on this game went, playing, penetrating, deeper and deeper, until at last, he was touching the tip of her womb, sunken to the hilt. Sarah Sue was writhing under him, tossing her head from side to side. She pushed her hips up to commence the rhythm she needed so much to attain that completion.
He positioned her so that every thrust rubbed against her sensitivity, driving her closer and closer to that point of no return: la petite morte. She moaned, whimpering, “Yes! Yes! Yes!“ And was again tossed into a wild starburst of paradise.
Still he wasnt with her; he was still iron hard within her. “You have
control,” she gasped out.
“Tantra,” he panted. “Its an Eastern method of prolonging lovemaking to attain that higher plain of pleasure,” he grunted, his hips still maintaining the rhythm.
“Oh my god, I cant bear it any longer,” Sarah Sue cried out. “Harder! Harder!” she commanded. He couldnt handle it any longer. In the past his training had allowed him to achieve hours of throbbing hardness, but Sarah Sue was just too potent; she completely undermined his control. His hips thrust faster and faster. She was still positioned in that same way, so her desire grew as well.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” he grunted sexily. Finally, just as she disintegrated once again, his muscles turned to stone, and she felt his wetness burst inside her. He collapsed on top of her with a deep groan.
Moments later, he was still nestled within her-softened, but not limp. Sarah Sue felt boneless and couldnt move-particularly since he was still on top of her. Yet in spite of the fact that the floor was marble and he was an extremely solid and large male, she felt quite comfortable. She felt
He couldnt believe what had happened to him. A chance electrical outage had brought him the greatest pleasure hed ever known, and his contentment knew no bounds. He was pillowed quite comfortably on her luscious body, and never wanted to move.
Somehow he managed to push himself onto his hands, gazing into her face. They looked into each other’s eyes, all of their feelings evident through those windows to the soul.
Sarah Sue cleared her throat and licked her dry lips. “Um
“Yeah,” he agreed. He bent his head and gave her a soft kiss.
“Whats youre name?” they said, against the others succulent lips, but forgot to come up for air, and their velvet battle, in which there were no losers but only winners, was engaged again.