Mr. and Mrs. Monster by Kelly Ethan Page B

glistened on the head of his cock. His hand sought her, parting the folds of her center—delving deep inside. First one finger, then another. She arched her back and drove his fingers deep. His wet thumb stroked her round and round.
    “Her entire passage, soaked in desire, released the musky scent of heaven into the air. She clenched in mini paroxysms of pleasure. An interlude to the main concert. He flipped her over until she lay flat on her stomach, submissive to his dominant. His teeth stroked her backside and his finger disappeared to be replaced by his heated mouth and lips. She throbbed like a drum when his mouth parted her and his rough tongue thrust savagely inside. A high-pitched scream ripped out of her. He suckled hard and she came apart in his arms, crying his name.”
    Missy breathed heavily and stared at what she’d written. “Oh. My. God.”
    She scanned the passage again. Where had that come from? She’d never experienced that sort of release in her life, let alone written about it. How on earth…?
    She noticed something else. Her panties were completely soaked. It’d been six straight months without sex and almost two years without good sex. She had to be repressed if only a couple of paragraphs could have her like this. Without her brain consciously giving the order, she ran her hand across her breasts, lingering on her nipples. The plain cotton of the sports bra rubbed against her skin and caused her breath to shorten. She eased her other hand down her body and under her panty line.
    Moving her fingers in a rapid rhythm, she arched her hips. All thoughts of her cheating husband, her manuscript and Mr. Happy, her vibrator, evaporated. She throbbed in time to the movement of her fingers and came in hard bursts of pleasure.
    The feelings were so intense, for a moment she imagined a tall, dark, long-haired man standing to the side of her with his hands clasped around his large erection. Wow , she was more in need of a good fuck than she’d thought if make-believe men were appearing.
    Her chest rising and falling like she’d run a marathon—an orgasmic one—Missy slumped forward onto the desk, knocking her keyboard and wiping the work on the page. “Shit, I forgot to save. I guess I’ll have to write it again.”
    Giggling, she twitched her clothes back into place and settled herself to write the scene again. Who needs a man when you can have a good old-fashioned hand job? Now if she could keep it up for the rest of the book…
     
    * * * *
     
    Keeping it up wasn’t a problem. Telling it to stay was.
    Eric Elikonas stared at his offending body part standing to attention like a proud soldier. Inspire her to erotic heights and get her to write her novel. That’s all, they said…easy. But he was the one as horny as a shade in the underworld.
    Filling in for his sister, Erato, while she was on maternity leave was supposed to be his vacation from teaching. Being a high-school English teacher in Vegas was fun, but every so often, he needed a holiday. He’d thought his sister’s Muse gig an easy one. Inspire one to pen an erotic poem or story, fun. Not . This was a family job anyway. Their mother had been the first Muse of erotic writing and his sister had happily taken over the job when it had come time. Both women swore only their family could do this job. The other Muses had their gifts, but their family was all about sex. He didn’t want to inspire others just to write sexy stories—he wanted to inspire love of the written word in everyone. Although he loved the written word, he’d only ever wanted to teach others. No Muse gig for him, but he was happy to help out if Era was on leave. She’d transferred her erotic Muse powers over to him for the course of her maternity leave and he would hand them back as soon as she’d had her baby.
    Instead, he’d inspired the writer to masturbate. Disgust at his failure tore at him. Damn it. He’d never failed at anything in his centuries of life. It was