I approach writing sex in the same way as I would a splashy sunset or a dark and luscious chocolate cake. I work to put you, the reader, in the scene. I want you to feel it.
What doesn’t work is a mechanical description—inserting part A into slot B. No, I’m trying to turn you on.
Questions I might ask myself are:
- How does the lover smell? taste? feel? For example: Is her skin soft and fragrant? Warm and spicy? Pale or dark?
- How does it feel when the lover touches her/him right—there?
- How does growing arousal feel for a woman? A man? Flushed cheeks, tingling spine, clenched inner thighs… (I even attempted to interview my husband—poor man—about how it feels to get an erection. He shut me down by saying he couldn’t describe it. <g> So I went online…)
Shapeshifters are even more fun. They have that alpha-animal thing going on, which makes the sex all the spicier.
My new paranormal romance series features a race of sexy shapeshifters known as the fada. In Seducing the Sun Fae, Cleia, a jaded fae queen, sets out to seduce Dion, the alpha of a river fada clan. But he turns the tables on her.
Cleia moaned and gripped the armrests.
By the sun and all the stars, could anything be more erotic than the sight of the big man crouched at her feet, suckling her toes? He hadn’t bothered to put his shirt back on after bathing, leaving him naked from the waist up. Dark hair curled over his broad, muscular chest and arrowed down the warm olive of his abdomen. His erection strained against his pants. One hand held her foot while the other caressed her calf. With each pull of his mouth, electricity arrowed straight to her womb.
His gaze collided with hers…intent, crystalline blue with a hint of silver. A predator’s eyes. Wild. Dangerous. Untamed.
His eyes went night-glow. The silver deepened, blotting out the blue as his animal rose to the surface.
Even as a sensual shiver skated down her spine, she knit her brows. What was going on? One minute he seemed so unassuming, almost weak; the next hard and powerful. And there was something familiar about those eyes…
He nipped her toe and she gasped and forgot everything but the sensations he was inducing. Her hips rocked restlessly, her skirt bunched up around her thighs. She burned for more, was desperate for his touch—there, between her legs. She opened her mouth to tell him so, and then closed it again.
He’d made it clear he liked to be in charge. She’d never admit it, but it was exciting to have him direct her, to allow him to decide when and where to pleasure her.
The dark, hard-faced fada seemed to read her mind. He draped both of her legs over the armrests so she was wide open to him, then pushed her skirt up and studied her, his gaze hot. “You’re wet. I can see your heartbeat…here.”
He touched a finger to her throbbing clitoris and she sucked in a breath as another bolt of electricity shot through her. He smiled but kept his gaze on her flushed, glistening labia, sliding the finger through their center, stroking teasingly in and out of her sex, before bringing it to his mouth. His lids lowered and he sucked the finger clean.
She moistened her lips. “Please,” she rasped, forgetting to power her glamour, forgetting Olivia’s warning to be careful, that this man was more than he seemed. Forgetting everything but the desire searing her in slow, sweet waves.
“Please—?” he prompted huskily.
He touched a thumb to her clit, pressing lightly. She waited for him to move—to slide, circle, anything—but he held still. He was playing games with her, she knew that. He wanted her to beg; she’d played such games herself countless times, although usually with herself as the tormentor.
She should resist. Who was he to toy with her? But she couldn’t stop herself from giving him the words. “Please…touch me.”
“Here?” His thumb circled once, teasingly.
Her stomach muscles jumped. “Yes. Right there.”
But maddeningly, he stilled again. She flexed her hips, silently asking for more. He leaned forward to give her a light lick. She felt his breath, cool against her burning cleft, and nearly shot out of the seat.
“Yes,” she managed to say. “Do that, please.”
“Good girl,” he purred against her skin, his accent thickening. “I like to hear you beg. Tell me. Tell me what you want.”
A small voice cautioned that this was risky, that she shouldn’t allow him to seize too much power. But she was safe on her home grounds, a guard stationed outside the door. What could happen?
She arched into him and begged.
So what do you think—what makes a sex scene *good* for you?
If you’d like to read more, click here to read the first chapter. Or you can sample Seducing the Sun Fae at: http://amzn.com/B00VDND708.
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And many thanks to Kate Hill for having me on her blog today!
Rebecca Rivard is the author of Seducing the Sun Fae (The Fada Shapeshifter Series, #1), which has been described as “hot, hot, hot” and “steamy read.” One reader simply said, “I need to get me a fada!” You can visit her on Facebook or at www.rebeccarivard.com
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Rebecca really knows what she is writing about! Her scenes are as burning with passion as a summer afternoon!
Hi Rebecca! Nice to see you around cyberspace! 😀
Thanks, ladies!