Genre: Erotic Paranormal Romance Heat Level: 4 Word Count: 10, 500 ISBN: 978-0-3695-1526-1 Editor: Jessica Leonie Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Toxic Desires by Faedra Rose

Heat Level 4
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Loving Monsters, 10

It’s All Hallows’ Eve and Heather Lowes is finally taking a long overdue vacation. Landing in Hawaii, the curvy botanist is ready to unwind and embrace paradise…

With a mind to explore the island’s unique beauty, she sets off on an adventure, drawn into the lush, tropical forest beyond her villa by a strange and alluring scent.

What she finds slumbering beneath the moonlight in the darkness will change her life forever. She had every intention of connecting with nature while on holiday—but it seems the magic of Halloween has interpreted her desires rather literally.

Be Warned: monster romance, anal sex

 

Excerpt:

An odd rustling and several soft popping sounds draw my attention back to the mandrake. My eyes grow wide, and I gasp aloud, my hand instinctually flying to my heart as I stumble backward.

“That’s not possible,” I breathe, shaking my head in denial of what my eyes perceive before me.

Vibrant orange and yellow fruits now adorn the mandrake. They quiver like droplets of sunset-hued blood on the vine. Is the breeze causing them to move like that, or is the plant actually trembling?

The plant’s pheromone grows even stronger, and I find myself biting my lip in frustration and grinding my thighs together, my pussy throbbing with inexplicable need. None of this makes any sense, but the longer I’m exposed to the sweet, delicious, and familiar scent, the less sense I seem to possess. Approaching the mandrake, visions of Persephone fill my mind. She partook of the seeds of the pomegranate and was forever damned to marry the monstrous God of Death, the Lord of the Underworld… What will happen if I … but I never manage to finish the thought.

I watch like a spectator from afar as my hand reaches out of its own accord, plucking a deep orange fruit from the bush. Commonly referred to as a ‘forbidden fruit’ or the Devil’s Apple, they remind me of colorful cherry tomatoes, and their appeal is more than I can bear. I bring the morsel to my lips, no longer in control of myself. Before I know what’s happening, my lips part, and I hold the forbidden fruit between them. A heartbeat later, I bite into its sweet and tangy flesh. A lurid moan escapes me as its cloyingly delicious juice spills obscenely from the corners of my mouth. It tastes like paradise given form and smells like a dizzying, fragrant mix of the ripest, most delicious pineapple-passionfruit hybrid to have ever existed.

As the flavor explodes across my tongue, I feel my insides quiver and quake, and then my cheeks flush with heat. Heedlessly, I push the rest of the fruit into my mouth. I chew and moan as my body is wracked with an impossible and incomprehensible orgasm. My legs shake, and I double over, the breath stolen from my lungs. I grab at my cunt through my sarong in disbelief, but the wetness soaking through my bikini is undeniable. Holy shit. My thumb strays, and I absently rub my sensitive clit through the fabric, my hips softly thrusting toward my hand in anticipation of more. Did I seriously just come over food?

It’s madness. It’s impossible. It’s fucking insane … but none of that seems to matter a damn bit. Dropping to my knees by the mandrake, I feverishly pick the vibrant Devil’s Apples from the bush like a naughty kid snatching cookies from the cookie jar. Shoving them—one after another, whole—into my eager mouth, my body aches with unbearable ecstasy, and I collapse to the ground, writhing as orgasm after brutal orgasm assaults me from within.

Lying on the grass, my sarong askew, bikini sodden, face and fingers sticky, I suck in great lungfuls of cool night air as I stare up at the twinkling stars. “Fuck me! That was something else,” I whisper in unashamed awe.

Series:
/series-loving-monsters/

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