Better Than Chocolate

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Authors: Lacey Savage

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Paranormal, #Romantic Erotica

BOOK: Better Than Chocolate
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Changeling Press LLC
www.changelingpress.com

Copyright ©2008 by Lacey Savage

First published in 2008, 2008

NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
CONTENTS

Madam Periwinkle's Erotic Delights

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Lacey Savage

* * * *
Madam Periwinkle's Erotic Delights

Better Than Chocolate

Lacey Savage

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2008 Lacey Savage

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

ISBN: 978-1-59596-905-7

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Publisher:

Changeling Press LLC

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Editor: Maryam Salim

Cover Artist: Reneé George

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Madam Periwinkle's Erotic Delights

Better Than Chocolate

Lacey Savage

Silvana McCurdy is losing her mind. She hasn't had a good night's sleep in six weeks, all because of a dream lover who insists on playing out every one of her sexual fantasies—even the kinky, bold, and disturbing ones. If only he was real ... she could figure out a way to deal with him then.

But he is real. And when Silvana meets Rafael, she's shocked by the tumultuous effect he has on her. Just by touching her, he threatens to unleash the dragon that lies dormant inside her soul. And that's a risk she's not willing to take. So she runs away from the man who's slowly ruining her life and takes shelter inside Madame Periwinkle's Erotic Delights shop.

Yet the surprises don't stop there. Madam Periwinkle offers Silvana a solution in the shape of a perfectly crafted chocolate dildo. Too bad magical dildos don't come with instructions. Silvana has no idea whether she should she eat it, insert it, or dangle it in a circular pattern before her eyes like she's seen hypnotists do on TV. Still, she's willing to try anything, even if it means she has to risk exposing her deepest secrets ... and her heart.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter One

Glossy. Black. Beautiful
. The wide, muscular expanse of a chiseled male chest captivated Silvana McCurdy. It filled her field of vision, gleaming the color of rich dark chocolate in the bright light emanating from somewhere above her head. The luscious sight made her want to swipe her tongue across the firm pectorals and swirl it around a flat, slightly darker nipple.

So perfect. So mesmerizing. So ... big.

He towered over her. His thick bicep, which she knew from experience she couldn't encircle using the thumb and forefinger of both hands, indicated that there was nothing even remotely diminutive about the man standing in front of her. Certainly not the long, hefty shaft of his cock. She'd peeked at it earlier, intrigued by the bulbous head and the massive rod that rose proudly from the apex of his powerful thighs.

Not real. He's not real. None of this is real
.

Silvana tossed her feverish head on the cotton pillowcase cradling it. She felt the fabric caress her cheek and the soft wrinkled creases press into her skin—but she saw the hand cupping her face, the large thumb drifting across her bottom lip.

She moaned. Her eyelids fluttered, struggling helplessly against the formidable force pressing them shut. Her eyelashes stuck together, fusing her eyes closed. A panicked sob caught in her throat. She struggled to remember what the new age books suggested she should do when caught in a dream she couldn't escape.

Something about taking control, declaring she was in charge and establishing dominance over the imagined forces holding her captive.

"Go away,” she whispered, directing all the effort she could muster toward reaching the man who now cupped her face in his large, solid palms. “Please."

Silvana had only been asleep a few minutes, maybe half an hour at most. She knew this, instinctively, just as she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was dreaming. She was once again caught in a webbed mix of fantasy and reality that would turn her dream world upside down until the morning, when she'd awaken more exhausted than she'd been before falling asleep.

The imaginary man's hands traveled down to gently cradle her neck and the back of her head. He thrust his fingers into her hair, but all she felt was the bunching of the pillow beneath her scalp.

Silvana shivered. He was so big. So strong. He could probably squish the life out of her if he wanted and she'd probably never even feel a thing.

Under normal circumstances, the slightest hint of peril would bring out the hidden beast lying dormant inside her. No matter how powerful this man was, she was even more formidable. Or she would be, if she let herself unleash the part of her that now slumbered, completely unaware of the threat.

She didn't. In the past three weeks, ever since her make-believe lover first infiltrated her dreams, the dragon hadn't woken once. Incredibly, nothing seemed to stir the beast. Not the desperate longing this man stirred in Silvana. Nor the countless orgasms he bestowed upon her, which in the real world would have shattered her human disguise at the first ripple of climax.

Here, in dreamland, the dragon never stirred.

Not even when the incredible dream man brought his friends to play. His many, many friends. All with talented hands, mouths, tongues, fingers, and cocks.

Oh, such delicious cocks.

A sob broke free from Silvana's throat, drifting between her parted lips before she could catch it.

The man caught it instead. With his mouth.

Air left Silvana's lungs in a long, desperate sigh. She couldn't feel his lips on hers, or his tongue gliding between them. But oh, how she wanted to! His hands skimmed down the column of her throat, across her chest, and finally cupped her breasts.

She felt him then, as though his fingers had passed through an invisible barrier. Every determined pinch of her nipples made her want to jump out of her skin. He paid careful attention to each pebbled nub, tweaking, pulling, and teasing first one, then the other, until they both elongated stiffly and throbbed in wanton surrender.

Despite the bloom of pleasure coiling in her belly, it killed her that she couldn't taste his kiss. Three weeks of erotic bliss and she'd never been able to feel anything he did above her breasts. Her erogenous zones practically hummed each time he touched her, but the passion and intimacy that came with sharing an open-mouthed kiss had been denied her.

She pulled away from his mouth. If she couldn't experience the depth of his kiss, why tease herself with something that always remained off-limits?

"We know what you crave.” His deep, husky voice sent a thrill down her spine. He whispered in low tones, each word a caress in itself.

"No, you don't."

He chuckled. “So headstrong, even now. Haven't we proven, time and again, that we understand your sexual needs better than you do?"

To punctuate that insufferable comment, his hand slipped down the gently rounded slope of her belly to delve between her thighs. Silvana arched her back, feeling the soft mattress beneath her shoulder blades and the heel of his hand pressing against her slit.

"You have no idea.” Her voice came out high-pitched, argumentative, and obstinate. She didn't care.

At first, she'd given in to him. To all of them. But as time passed and it became clear to her that nothing about this dream ever changed, she decided she'd had enough. Enough exhausting, endless games. Enough ecstasy without substance. Just ... enough.

A thick finger parted her folds, insinuating itself inside her slit. The tip of a nail raked her tender flesh, tearing a scream from her throat. Instinctively, she thrust her hips forward, seeking firmer contact with the elusive caress.

"Let us pleasure you,” the dream man whispered.

She opened her mouth to protest. Before she could utter a word, the dream world fragmented around her, shattering into a million pieces. A sound like breaking glass pierced her ears. She grimaced, waiting for the backdrop of her fantasy to right itself.

Until now, she hadn't been fully aware of her imagined surroundings. The setting came into focus in an instant, as if a camera lens suddenly adjusted itself so she could see the expanse of the room.

She stood on a wooden stage awash in harsh neon lights. Each spotlight had been pointed toward her, bathing her in an unforgiving white glow. She gasped as she glanced down at herself, noticing each imperfection highlighted in punishing luminous beams.

Tears of dismay and horror welled in her eyes. The folds of her plump, pale belly stood out in sharp contrast to the gleaming black mahogany wall at her back. No, not a wall, she realized belatedly. More like a table perched at a forty-five degree angle. Her wrists and ankles had been anchored to cuffs that looked to be part of the table itself.

The man stood just a few steps away, no longer touching her but close enough that he could if he wanted. The muscles of his abdomen rippled as he sighed, his gaze never leaving her face.

"Let me go.” A desperate, pleading edge entered her voice. She was ready to bargain now. “P-please. We'll do this somewhere else if you really want to. Somewhere dark. Not this—this—"

More spotlights came on, this time spilling their brutal light over the area in front of the stage. Silvana gasped, a strangled sound ripped from the depths of her chest.

There were men in the audience. Hundreds of them. All watching her with wide, unblinking eyes.

Awareness sizzled throughout her body, blossoming across every inch of her skin. She could feel their stares, like a thousand potent strokes, nuzzles, and careful caresses. She felt them in the way she could never feel her dream lover's kiss.

Her mind rebelled against the unexpected flurry of sensation, but her traitorous body gave itself over to it. Heat flooded her pussy and cream drenched her inner walls, seeping from her channel to moisten her swollen folds.

"You want this.” An intriguing rumble eased into the dream man's tone.

Silvana lifted her head for the first time to look at him. “No,” she answered, thinking she was being honest yet knowing he could tell with one glance at her flushed chest, her pebbled nipples or her dripping cunt that she lied through her teeth.

He narrowed his gaze. A muscle twitched in his jaw. Impatience? Or something else? Something stronger—like frustration, maybe? Or fury?

He lifted his hand to drag it through his short-cropped curls that hugged his scalp closely. That's when she noticed the handcuffs attached to each wrist.

Silvana frowned. He'd never worn handcuffs before. She was the only one who ever got restrained in these dreams. Never him or any of his friends.

But he wasn't restrained, she realized. The cuffs hung loosely around each wrist. The chain that should have bound them together had been split into two, with each fragmented link drooping downward to disappear into thin air. She couldn't see what, if anything, anchored the shackles.

He dropped to his knees, planted his palms on her hips and took a long, deep whiff of her arousal. Silvana pinched her eyes closed to stem the hot wash of tears that threatened to spill from beneath her eyelids. Oh God, this wasn't fair. Her dreams had never been humiliating before. Being on display like this, in front of more men than she cared to think about, nearly undid her.

And it aroused her to the brink of madness.

He knows. Damn him, he always knows
.

No matter how much she disliked her body, which even in human form was closer to plucky plump than runway rail, she loved the attention focused on her.

"She's ready.” Her mystery man practically growled the words.

She blinked her eyes open just in time to see those men seated in the front row rising to their feet, breaking away from the others and climbing the narrow steps leading to the stage. There must have been a dozen of them. Or more ... she couldn't tell.

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