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About the author:
Soliel De Bella is a student of the Universe and enjoys Astrology in her spare time. Being a Scorpio, sexuality is a big part of her internal make-up, as well as anything considered taboo. She loves to entertain her creative side by writing Erotica and indulging in all aspects of sexual desire and fulfillment. Soliel invites you into her carnal world where you’ll strip off the masks you wear in society to fully expose yourself to the sensuality burning inside your soul.
Originally from the rugged “Big Sky Country” of Montana, Soliel now resides in Chicago with her family.
What inspired you to write your book?
I love paranormal anything. As soon as I thought of erotic and paranormal, I thought what would be hotter than an entity to have sex with at your beck and call? I mean sure, at first, it would be terrifying, but if it came about in such a way that you could accept it, what would you do? alone in a house with something that sexually needs you, something that you can beckon at any time of day and he appears and can satisfy you in ways you can only imagine.
Yeah, that's how THAT came about. I have to say. I just might be in for something like that.
Here is a short sample from the book:
I suddenly heard my name. It was a man’s voice. My eyes swept the porch and lawn but I didn't see anyone. “Hello? Who’s there?”
I hopped off the swing and charged to each side of the porch to look around the corners.
I stood still and waited…
“What the hell?” Lack of sleep, I decided, drank the last of my coffee, and scooted back inside the house. Still, I felt a bit out of sorts by the strangely familiar voice, so I locked the door behind me. “I need a guard dog.”
“Perhaps,” the voice said, more in my mind than in my ears.
“I obviously need a nap.”
Making my way upstairs, I’m overtaken by the strange feeling I’d felt before bed last night. There’s that tingle again, though it's much stronger this time.
I undress to the buff, hoping to avoid that restless, horny feeling and get some much-needed rest. All my frustration and exhaustion and excitement of the last few days have put unusual stress on me, and I still need to finish unpacking.
In an hour I’ll be recharged and ready to go back to work moving in.
I slip my thin lean body under the sheets and, lying on my side, make a concerted effort to relax. The fresh air and aromas of the forest tease my senses, lulling me to that place where I surrender to my thoughts of the mystery man who visits me in my dreams. Ever so slowly, his image comes with a flurry of feelings. Wispy touches start up my thighs and circle my buttocks. My cheeks quiver and my kitty throbs, wanting the same attention. I know I am dreaming, so I lift my leg to allow the light sensations access to my sweet folds.
My lustful dream interprets the touch as probing fingers, strong, determined, and most of all experienced. The light imprints flow back and forth over my thighs, dipping into my juices, a teasing, pleasing game of want-me, want-me-not. The erotic probing and retreating turns me on. My body shudders with sweet expectation. I’m desperate for more penetration, deeper, thicker, harder. The dreamy touches respond to my fantasies. Strong fingers enter me deeply, spread me, and then move away. I quietly moan. “Please come back.”
How I end up on my knees, I don’t know. Dreams are sketchy that way, but I’m exposed to something that fully enters me. Something long. Something hard. Something hot. My mind, even in sleep, knows what that something is, and I thrust myself down the full length of this magical girth, swallowing it completely. I welcome the heat that spreads through my body and inflames my hardening nipples.
I quiver. It’s been so long.
Imaginary hands glide along my curves, grasp my hips, and caress my inner thighs. Again and again. Deeper and deeper. Harder and harder. But in my dream I don’t protest. I don’t complain. I seek my own release and buck backward against the ethereal magic, begging for more and more.
I moan and bind up my bed-sheets in my fists, gliding facedown back and forth. My body is hot, my forehead drips sweat, and I bite my lower lip to stifle a scream. I’m ultimately filled again and again, the feeling so incredibly real my breathing becomes frantic as I claw my way closer to climax. The thickness plunges into me and I squeal in delight, loving every inch of flesh that pumps in and out of me.
I let the dream have its way with my body. Oh how I want the release so badly now. I want to be fucked all day, all night. I’m not a little girl anymore.
Sweat trickles down my breasts and drips off my hard nipples. I’m full of anticipation, screaming, “Yes, yes, yes!”
At that…the dream stops. “No, no, no!”
I’ve awakened myself, I think, but I find I’m on my knees, backside in the air, juices dripping down my inner thighs. I fall over and roll on my back. “Oh my.” I’m still breathing rapidly as I sit up and look around my room. There’s no one here to see me acting so lasciviously.
Thank God it was just a dream.
But more than ever I need my release. I fall back and press my fingers to myself in desperation. Like playing a fine instrument, some fingers slip up and down my wetness as others massage my clitoris. My back arches and relaxes. I press harder, stroke myself faster, gliding my fingers up and down my slick mounds. My firm breasts thrust upward, my hips pump hard in my private, much needed sex play.
My kneecaps quiver. My toes tighten. I spread my lean and shaking legs wide across the bed and continue the finger dance between my folds, which are now making delicious sounds. Every muscle in my body tightens. My long-awaited excitement finally ends in a moaning climax. Hot spasms course through my body as sweet cream gushes over my fingertips, leaving all the tension behind. I collapse, slowly tuck my knees up to my chest and wait for my heartbeat to slow down. Only then do I realize I’m thirsty. So much for my much needed nap.
Noodle-limbed, I sat up on the edge of the bed. “What just happened?” My fingers were slick and smelled sweet with my own nectar. This wasn’t like me at all. I didn’t expect to feel this free when living on my own. Maybe this lustful behavior was just a phase…but a delightful phase, I had to admit