Caught in the Act - Sara's Awakening (ELEMENTS -The Before World Series: Book 1)
Below is a snippet that you can find in the book. I am sharing it for your reading pleasure. Please pick up the book and I will work on book 3.
Sara sat in the castle’s living room in an oversized plush chair with hammered nails tucked tightly into the soft velvet golden fabric. She was lost in thoughts, missing her family and especially her mother. Christmas had always been the holiday her mother would go all out for, with the décor and presents. Sara’s fingers traced along the brass cool nails and then she returned her attention to the festivities. She watched Thomas, Argon and Samuel drinking spiced eggnog with brandy. The room smelled like cinnamon, cloves, and pine.
Her eyes wandered around the overpoweringly vast space. It was adjacent to the ballroom; therefore, the height was the same, two and a half floors. Tinsel and garland lined with white lights covered the expanse of the oak paneled walls. Each window trimmed with lighted garland and red velvet bows. The gargantuan tree took center stage. The gold glittered star nearly grazed the ceiling. Sara watched The Queen, Lucinda, on a small stool being handed family ornaments. Each one held a memory and Lucinda took her time to divulge them in the detail of each story. The King sat in a chair with his back to Sara, on his third or fourth eggnog; his head seemed to be rolling back and forth ready for slumber.
Thomas stole glances at Sara every so often, smiling; she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It wasn’t home, it wasn’t her family and sadness overwhelmed her.
She stood and went to his side. “I need to get something from my room. I’ll be right back,” she spoke softly to him.
He lightly squeezed her hand and nodded sweetly at her.
She scurried along the corridor, hoping to make up an excuse along the way. Her mauve colored dress in satin fluttered behind her and scuffed nosily with every step. As she made her way past the study across from the stairs leading to her suite, different sounds caught her attention.
“Ohh, Damien,” a woman’s voice cooed.
Curious, Sara peered around the corner. The study was dark save the light of the stone hearth. The main log split and crackled. The sizzle and spark made Sara jump. She glanced around, fearing someone saw her watching. Her heart pulsed a little faster than it had from the mere excitement a moment ago.
The moans began to intensify and there he was. Damien. What she could see of him anyway. Sara’s hand clenched the corner of the wall. The line of his spine; the shadowed indentations of the muscles in his back, it made Sara lick her lips. He leaned over her, this woman bent over the couch before him.
“Please, Damien.”
Sara could hear her soft muffled cry.
Suddenly Damien tugged her to the fireplace, forcing her to face it with her hands up on the harsh uneven stones. Using his knee, he knocked her legs further apart. His hand slid around her belly, as his other guided himself into her.
Sara was mesmerized. Watching each movement, each touch that seemed to send rippling waves of shocks over this faceless woman. Each thrust he made, sent pulses through Sara, as if it were her, she desperately wanted it to be her. Her mouth began to water, as this woman grunted each time, he speared her.
Dissatisfaction coated Damien’s face and he took this woman, this tiny blonde, to the rug in front of the fire. Carrying her like a rag doll, as she mewed in need, pleading desperately for his touch. He placed her on her back and brushed her hair from her face.
Sara swore Damien whispered something to the blonde; Sara inched closer and was able to see them on full display now in the blaze of the hearth. The warm soft glow of the firelight made the scene all the more intensely, demandingly and overpoweringly seductive to her.
Damien put the woman’s legs over his shoulders and pushed inside her again.
“Oh, Damien! Yes!” she cried.
Sara gasped, covering her own mouth.
Damien immediately covered the blonde’s mouth with his hand and chuckled a deep rumbling burst. “Shh.” He continued to pump into her slowly, rhythmically, methodically. It was a sensual dance. The muscles flexing in his arms, his back and butt made Sara grip the wall with earnest, wishing it was her, wishing she was being carved by him. Tamed by his flesh.
Sara’s mouth dropped and her chest heaved. Her hand went to her throat, as her body flushed with heat. A trickle of wetness ran down her inner thigh, her panties were drenched, watching this erotic scene unfold.
Damien’s pace quickened and the tiny feet bounced on his shoulders. The blonde’s tiny hands gripped and scratched along his back, as whimpering wanton cries exploded from her, muffled by his hand.
Damien growled and expelled a large burst of air before stopping and his head landed on her shoulder.
Sara watched his buttocks continue to flex, amazed by it. She’d never seen something like that or experienced it. It was beautiful, magical…
“A-hem.”
Startled, Sara jumped, however not a sound escaped her as her breath became caught in her throat. She swallowed hard when she realized she’d been caught by Thomas.
Sara sat in the castle’s living room in an oversized plush chair with hammered nails tucked tightly into the soft velvet golden fabric. She was lost in thoughts, missing her family and especially her mother. Christmas had always been the holiday her mother would go all out for, with the décor and presents. Sara’s fingers traced along the brass cool nails and then she returned her attention to the festivities. She watched Thomas, Argon and Samuel drinking spiced eggnog with brandy. The room smelled like cinnamon, cloves, and pine.
Her eyes wandered around the overpoweringly vast space. It was adjacent to the ballroom; therefore, the height was the same, two and a half floors. Tinsel and garland lined with white lights covered the expanse of the oak paneled walls. Each window trimmed with lighted garland and red velvet bows. The gargantuan tree took center stage. The gold glittered star nearly grazed the ceiling. Sara watched The Queen, Lucinda, on a small stool being handed family ornaments. Each one held a memory and Lucinda took her time to divulge them in the detail of each story. The King sat in a chair with his back to Sara, on his third or fourth eggnog; his head seemed to be rolling back and forth ready for slumber.
Thomas stole glances at Sara every so often, smiling; she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It wasn’t home, it wasn’t her family and sadness overwhelmed her.
She stood and went to his side. “I need to get something from my room. I’ll be right back,” she spoke softly to him.
He lightly squeezed her hand and nodded sweetly at her.
She scurried along the corridor, hoping to make up an excuse along the way. Her mauve colored dress in satin fluttered behind her and scuffed nosily with every step. As she made her way past the study across from the stairs leading to her suite, different sounds caught her attention.
“Ohh, Damien,” a woman’s voice cooed.
Curious, Sara peered around the corner. The study was dark save the light of the stone hearth. The main log split and crackled. The sizzle and spark made Sara jump. She glanced around, fearing someone saw her watching. Her heart pulsed a little faster than it had from the mere excitement a moment ago.
The moans began to intensify and there he was. Damien. What she could see of him anyway. Sara’s hand clenched the corner of the wall. The line of his spine; the shadowed indentations of the muscles in his back, it made Sara lick her lips. He leaned over her, this woman bent over the couch before him.
“Please, Damien.”
Sara could hear her soft muffled cry.
Suddenly Damien tugged her to the fireplace, forcing her to face it with her hands up on the harsh uneven stones. Using his knee, he knocked her legs further apart. His hand slid around her belly, as his other guided himself into her.
Sara was mesmerized. Watching each movement, each touch that seemed to send rippling waves of shocks over this faceless woman. Each thrust he made, sent pulses through Sara, as if it were her, she desperately wanted it to be her. Her mouth began to water, as this woman grunted each time, he speared her.
Dissatisfaction coated Damien’s face and he took this woman, this tiny blonde, to the rug in front of the fire. Carrying her like a rag doll, as she mewed in need, pleading desperately for his touch. He placed her on her back and brushed her hair from her face.
Sara swore Damien whispered something to the blonde; Sara inched closer and was able to see them on full display now in the blaze of the hearth. The warm soft glow of the firelight made the scene all the more intensely, demandingly and overpoweringly seductive to her.
Damien put the woman’s legs over his shoulders and pushed inside her again.
“Oh, Damien! Yes!” she cried.
Sara gasped, covering her own mouth.
Damien immediately covered the blonde’s mouth with his hand and chuckled a deep rumbling burst. “Shh.” He continued to pump into her slowly, rhythmically, methodically. It was a sensual dance. The muscles flexing in his arms, his back and butt made Sara grip the wall with earnest, wishing it was her, wishing she was being carved by him. Tamed by his flesh.
Sara’s mouth dropped and her chest heaved. Her hand went to her throat, as her body flushed with heat. A trickle of wetness ran down her inner thigh, her panties were drenched, watching this erotic scene unfold.
Damien’s pace quickened and the tiny feet bounced on his shoulders. The blonde’s tiny hands gripped and scratched along his back, as whimpering wanton cries exploded from her, muffled by his hand.
Damien growled and expelled a large burst of air before stopping and his head landed on her shoulder.
Sara watched his buttocks continue to flex, amazed by it. She’d never seen something like that or experienced it. It was beautiful, magical…
“A-hem.”
Startled, Sara jumped, however not a sound escaped her as her breath became caught in her throat. She swallowed hard when she realized she’d been caught by Thomas.
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