VAMPIRE ROMANCE: Moonlight Desires Complete Series (Books 1, 2, &3) (Paranormal Romance Collection, Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance With Sex) (Vampire Romance Boxed Set)

WARNING: This ebook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This ebook is for sale to adults ONLY.

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© Copyright 2015 by Piquette Fontaine - All rights reserved.

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Moonlight Desires Series

Moonlight Desires - Book #1

Moonlight Desires - Book #2

Moonlight Desires - Book #3

By: Piquette Fontaine

Moonlight Desires (Book #1)

Chapter One

Grey light shone in, filtered by curtains and projected onto the blanket which cocooned the two lovers. Shana opened her eyes, catching the day’s first glimpse of the man she was spooning. As she tended to do, she lent him a peck on the neck.

He shuffled around and groaned. Shana knew that groan and it meant he was awake. She ran the back of her index and middle fingers up Tom’s back, stroking his shoulders and neck, playing with his hair.

“Babe, sleep.”

It didn’t stop her, he let out that woken groan again. Sidling her lips right by his ear’s lobe as gradually as she could muster, she goaded, “Remember when we used to make love every morning?” His shoulders adjusted, either in consent or a rebuff. She took it as the former, and made her fingers crawl like a spider across the dome of his gut, crawling towards the trapped fly that was his gun in his briefs.

The little tent pitched in the fabric meant it was morning wood, Shana’s favorite. She wrapped her fingers around it one by one and started to stroke.

“Don’t you start the day this way?” No response but some vague vocalizations. “I know I do.”

The receiver sidled his hips so the erection slipped her grasp. He rolled around and looked her in the eyes.

“You know what I want to do Shana?” Shana kissed him and he received it. Tom’s breath tasted like stale meat and vodka, but she loved the musk. She once again wrapped her fingers around his throbbing morning wood. “I sincerely want to fuck the taste of your mouth.”

She gripped the cock tight and twisted it in a direction she knew physiologically unnatural. The yelp he let out was one of a not altogether unpleasant pain.

The bed was swiftly one body emptier, and she felt subtle deceit when she looked back from the bedroom door and saw that Tom had already snuggled back into the covers for another quick snooze. She slammed the door as hard as she could.

A spoon swirled honey into vanilla yogurt. The lyrics were familiar to Shana and she sung along under her breath.

At the bottom of every bottle

The suds read clear as my eyes can see:

The more nights I go home to you

The more I’ll want to kill old me.

“You are listening to 99.5, The Bullhorn, Long Island’s only country music station. Our rodeo moseys from Queens to The Hamptons. That was Christoph B. Tallweather with ‘Advice From My Beer.’ Next up, Hedy Nughes with ‘I’ll Never Forget That Horse.’”

Shana heard all the songs on that station before. Working on wiping her mind off Tom’s refusal to fulfill her, she counted the number of times she heard “I’ll Never Forget That Horse” in the past week. Just about to recall the exact location where she heard it the sixth time, a finger running up the back of her thigh pulled her from the thought she was lost in. The finger skimmed the flesh, traveling in a diagonal to the ridge in her buttocks, meddling around her lips like a hungry garden snake near a mole’s little pocket carved into the ground. Shana took a spoonful of yogurt, turned out upside down in her mouth to lick the silver dry. Her hand slid down the front of her sweat pants, undoing the drawstring then circling her clit with her forefinger’s tip. The other hand did not let go of the spoon, instead clutched it tighter in the perspiring palm. Tom’s arm slid between her legs as his hand grabbed her through the outside of her pants.

Shana reached behind herself with the spoon and pushed her lover’s forehead back. Her head turned, eyes meeting his, and she opened her mouth, rolling the white yogurt on her tongue. Breathing through his mouth like an asthmatic bear, Tom ripped off his briefs and tossed them with little care for where they landed. Shana savored her aerial view of Tom’s medium cock throbbing loudly until she noticed it levitating towards her face, Tom pulling her down by the back of her neck. Her right hand smacked the pulsing member with the back of the spoon, making Tom’s knees buckle. Taking full advantage of his prime position, Shana pushed his head down until he was eye-level with the line of pubic hair peaking over her gray sweats.

“Give me those hands.” Tom surrendered like a teen in front of two cops. She placed one hand on each of her hips and made sure his thumbs were hooked around her waistband. “And the second the pants are off I want you to smell me.” She did a little dance to get out of the pants when they were around her ankles. Tom obeyed her command, her bush smelled faintly of vinegar and aged leather. With no prodding at all, he turned his chin up and drew his tongue from the cleft of her vulva all the way up to her clit. She liked how Tom looked with an auburn mustache. He repeated, this time taking a few seconds to bat around the wet extra flesh that draped the entryway to her womb. The tongue tread it’s path and retraced, forward and back, over and over. The thin solvent of his slobber and her juices ran down the inside of her thighs, drawing thin lines of chill. Tom’s silky paws grabbed her ass and Shana felt electricity flash all over her skin. Shana scooped yogurt out of the bowl and lent him a liberal anointment on his forehead, pushing the excess into his thinning hair.

“What the fuck is that about?” Shana’s mind was infested with too blissful a chaos to do much explaining. He gripped her ass harder and propped her up on the counter, entering her with a strict vengeance. His slack mouth nestled next to her ear and she could feel his hot, moist inhalations and exhalations with each corresponding movement in his thrust. “Filthy. So filthy”

“Yes I am.”

He gave a deep thrust, but not in the right spot. When she yelped, it was barely out of pleasure. “You covered me in that bullshit yoga food you filthy bitch.”

“Don’t say that.”

He thrust the same way, just as hard. When her nails dug into his sweaty neck, he mistook it as a sign of approval.

“Don’t say what? Bullshit yoga food or,” he gave the thrust a third time, “bitch.” The thrusting hips halted. Tom wheezed a little. The member slid out and Shana could feel his seed spill out of her. She gazed down and watched it ooze onto the granite counter top. By the time she looked up, Tom was halfway out the door.

“Where are you going?” She was still buzzing, unfulfilled, sitting in a growing pearl puddle.

“Time to meditate, sugar.” Soon the toilet seat slammed down and the bathroom lock clicked.

“Don’t take too long in there!” she shouted at the wall. “I need to shower before I go to the airport.”

“Whatever babe.” His indifference reverberated off the bathroom tile.

“And don’t forget to call the caterer today. If we don’t have kosher options at the reception, your mother is going to wish she never came to our wedding!”

“Jesus Christ, do we have to talk about my mother the second after we fuck? Let a guy do his business in peace.”

“Fucking” was what Tom called it when she didn’t get off. She finished herself promptly, right there on the counter, quickly hitting the spots he couldn’t seem to find in his ignorant fury. Within seconds of her functional climax, she noticed that Tom’s tighty whities had landed in the pot of pasta sauce that had been soaking overnight. “The things you do for love,” Shana muttered, dumping the water out in such a way that the briefs wouldn’t fall and clog the drain.

It was already 9:30 and her Shana’s flight took off at noon. Tom was taking his sweet time doing God knows what in there and she still had to shower, shave her legs, blow dry her hair straight, and, of course, put on makeup. The hair could wait, but the truth was that for some reason Shana always wanted to look good when she traveled out of a simple desire to be the most stunning woman stepping off the plane.

But as 10:00 approached, it became obvious that the hair would have to wait. Thanks to Tom, she had the opportunity to check her suitcase three times over. Everything she needed for a week was in there. A dress and flats for the church service, some clothes for the heat and some layers if it cooled off, sneakers for jogging, a charger for her Kindle, good shampoo double wrapped in plastic bags. She was so bored that she even went through her carry on, ending up glad to realize that it was the wrong place to keep her pocket vibrator. It’s bad enough that those body scanners see you naked, she did not need some TSA perv checking her bag to picture her getting off.

When Tom finally emerged, Shana demanded to know what the hell took so long. “I was waiting for an eBay auction to end.” Shana didn’t even have time to tell him he could have waited literally anywhere else and would have only wasted his time. Shana had just enough time to shower, shave, and throw on a smart, crimson sundress with a subtle paisley pattern. Makeup was applied in the car while Tom drove, weaving in and out of traffic like a maniac. At the airport, Shana gave him a long kiss goodbye and then a smitten smirk. She pretended that when she looked back to wave, Tom wasn’t checking out a sorority girl.