Spaceport: Highest Bidder – The Book Trailer!

What do you think?

Hot Excerpt – The Boundaries: Awakenings

The Boundaries: Awakening
Deception Never Felt So Good

Content Warning: Contains graphic sexual content that may offend some readers.

“Slave,” Tornada snarled, his blood running hot, his mouth dry. “Show the Archeron how talented you are.”
He jerked on the leash again, the long strip of leather snapping tight. For a moment Jai’Enna didn’t move and a cold sense of unease twisted in Tornada’s gut. But then the finely toned muscles in her back flexed, her ass cheeks tightened and she lifted slightly from her obeisant bow, turning while still on her knees to face him, her head aligned with his crotch, her hands folded loosely in her lap.
A lump formed in Tornada’s throat. Thick. Solid. He looked down at her, his eyes drinking in the fire-red of her wild hair, the smooth pale perfection of her shoulders. His cock twitched and stiffened, eager for the touch of her lips. His chest however, squeezed tight, knowing the heaven, the sheer rapture of her mouth on his shaft might very well end with his suicide.
And then she lifted her head and wide eyes the color of Keltarian jade stared at him. Unreadable. Indecipherable. Enigmatic. “As you command, Master,” she said on a husky breath, before reaching forward, unsnapping the fasteners of his trousers and releasing his cock of its snug confinement.
Her long, tapered fingers closed around its throbbing length immediately, sending shards of liquid pleasure straight into Tornada’s balls. He sucked in a sharp breath, fighting — no, battling for control. The need to bury his fingers in the thick tumble of her hair was overwhelming. To bury them into the cool, silken strands and direct her mouth to his cock, to feel her slide her full lips over its bulbous head. Almost as overwhelming as the inescapable knowledge she was going to kill him, slipping into his mind the second he orgasmed and suggesting something ominous and irresistible. That the pleasure he felt now, was the last he would ever feel.
He ground his teeth, every fiber of his being taut, every muscle burning. Silently, slowly, she leant forward at the hip and touched the tip of her warm, wet tongue to his turgid erection.
A low, raw gasp filled his lungs and his eyelids fluttered closed. By Aop, he remembered this. So well. Too well.
Her tongue swirled over the stretched skin of his cockhead, tracing tiny lines across its hot surface, flicking at the sensitive glands just below its distended rim. Her fingertips found his thighs and slid up their bunched length, teasing the soft hairs on his balls with a feather-light stroke before slipping around to grasp his ass cheeks.
He opened his eyes and gazed down at her, fisting his hands on his hips, forcing his body to be still. No matter how much he longed for every exquisite, dangerous second of her touch, he needed to convey the impression of a slave master, not a man ruled by a heart that should know better.
Her head dipped forward, her teeth nipping ever so gently at the very tip of his cock. Her fingers caressed his ass, kept his hips motionless as her tongue painted his cock with long, wet strokes — head to base, base to head. His blood sang in his ears and his pulse quickened, more so when she closed her lips over that bulbous, throbbing head and took it into her mouth. She sucked lightly, the pressure sending shooting ribbons of tension down his shaft into his balls. A low groan sounded in his throat and he pulled in a short breath through his teeth.
Control. Control.
Her tongue worked the underside of his cock, lathered it, teased it. Her head bobbed, drawing her lips up and down his turgid length, drawing another groan from deep within his chest. A movement in the room caught his pleasure-fogged attention and he flicked his gaze to the Archeron. The Master Slaver stared at them, the snug material of his leather breeches tented at the crotch, his right hand cupping at the bulge beneath. But his eyes, glowing orange with hunger, still revealed his wariness. Either he knew who they were, or he suspected they weren’t who they pretended to —
Jai’Enna’s fingers slipped from Tornada’s ass and cupped his balls and the disturbing thought vanished from his mind to be replaced by utter sexual fervor so intense his eyes closed and his muscles coiled. Her tongue curled around his cock, her teeth scraped its sides. Pain threaded through pleasure and he let out a raw moan. By Aop, her mouth was better than the Ninth Heaven!
He thrust his hips forward, shoving his cock deeper, feeling its swollen head ram the back of Jai’Enna’s throat. The tip of her tongue flicked at the swell of his sac, sending a wild wave of wet heat into his groin and up his spine. He ground his teeth, determined to hold off the inevitable. If this was the last time he drew breath, he wanted it to last.
“Very good,” the Archeron murmured, voice oily with appreciation and approval. “Very good.”
Tornada tuned him out; drew to his mind a room scented with fine incense and decorated with even finer silks and satins. He no longer stood in the seedy viewing room of a Cluster-Fuck Barge, but the master suite of his family’s primary castle. He no longer feared for his life from the woman at his feet, but feared for the day she would leave him, claimed by time and old-age, gone to the Nine Heavens after decades of contented, blissful life together.
Jai’Enna’s fingers slipped from his balls, worked their smooth way past his perineum to the clenching hole of his anus. One firm fingertip pressed at that puckered hole and Tornada bucked, ramming his cock deeper into her mouth. She knew exactly what to do to make him boil with scalding pleasure. She always did. Her finger pressed harder to his ass, penetrating ever so slightly the gripping circle of muscle even as her mouth continued to pull and suck at his cock.
“Aop!” The cry burst from his lips, hoarse and savage. He grabbed at her hair, tangled his fingers in the cool, thick strands, a lifeline he knew she would both enjoy and despise. Unable to control himself, he fucked her mouth, plunging into the hot, wet well in wild thrusts, his aching, heavy balls slapping against her chin, his body burning with the need to erupt.
A moan sounded in the room, a vibration filled his balls. He opened his eyes and, blood like electricity, dropped his gaze to Jai’Enna.
She sucked at his cock, her lips glistening with moisture, her own eyes closed — the perfect picture of an obedient slave. But it was the expression on her face that made Tornada’s heart pound. Ecstasy. Another moan tickled his ears, another tiny wave of vibrations rippled his balls. Euphoria flooded through Tornada. Jai’Enna was enjoying what he’d ordered her to do! For three moon-cycles they’d devoured each other’s bodies in lustful hunger. Just as she knew him, so too, he knew her. The expression that softened her face could not be created, no matter how important for deception.
She wanted to give him pleasure. Drew her own from his.

Pavlova – DE-LISH-USS!!!!

The national Aussie dessert! I can’t recommend this enough!

6 egg whites
1 teaspoon vinegar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 1/2 cups castor sugar
1 1/2 tablespoon cornflour

Whisk egg whites until stiff, add half the sugar and whisk until dissolved. Fold in the rest of the sugear, vinegar, vanilla and cornflour.

Line the tray with foil and place mixture in centre of foil, smooth around with palette knife.
If using a gas oven, before starting to beat, mix, turn temperature up to the highest and when ready place tray into oven, turn down to the lowest point cook for about 1 1/2 hours. Check if firm to touch, turn oven off and leave to cool in the oven gradually.

Flash Fiction Friday

Whisp

In the dark, he came to me. Insubstantial as smoke. Cool as mist. Yet his mouth, his tongue… hot. Wet. Masterful.

His hands claimed my body, his lips my nipple. I moaned, the sound loud in the silent night.

I am here. The words formed in my head. A statement echoed by the nudging pressure of his rigid cock on my pussy lips.

I opened to him, feeling him fill me. Stretching. Consuming. Possessing.

His mouth worked my nipple, his fingers my breasts. His cock my cunt.

I am here. The words again. In my head.

And I came.

What I’m Lovin’

Boston Legal.

I’m not sure what it is about this show, but I love it. I’ve been a bit of a David E. Kelley fan since (and I’m kinda ashamed to say this) Ally McBeal. The Practice was good and then brilliant with the addition of James Spader‘s character, Alan Shore, so naturally, when Boston Legal began I was an instant fan.

I love the dialogue. I love Alan Shore’s Word Salad. I love how the producers of the show don’t mind referencing its existence as a show (eg, take this tet e tet at the end of season two between Alan and Denny Crane – played brilliantly by William Shatner – Alan: To next season, my Friend. Denny: Same night? Alan: God, I hope). I love the little references to William Shatner’s “other”, such as the sound of a tri-quarter from Star Trek being the sound of Denny Crane’s mobile phone, or the mention of Klingons). I love the theme music…actually, so does Chickpea, who bursts into a fit of happy giggles whenever she hears it. I love the quirkiness of it all, wrapped around a show that can be, at the same time, incredibly deep, biting and satiric.

Boston Legal. If you don’t love it (or watch it) check it out! Brilliant!

Shifting Lust – The Book Trailer

Made this this morning. What do you think?

A Random Beginning

Truly have no idea where this is going, but it’s a beginning. Any thoughts?

Bound © Lexxie Couper 2008

Prologue

They’d chained her.
Silver shackles on her ankles and wrists.
They’d chained her spread-eagle on the dais, stripped naked and exposed for all to see.
Inari R’Orq stared at the ceiling, the blood in her veins feeling very much like liquid heat coursing through her body. How dare they!
She pulled at the chains, the silver burning her flesh like a concentrated beam of sun – scorching, scalding. Branding.
Rage surged through her and she snarled, the sound cutting the thick silence. How dare they!
She closed her eyes and drew in a slow breath, focussing on her core. She needed to think if she was to survive, and she didn’t plan on dying just yet. Not after three hundred years of defying her enemies. She was too young.
Pulling the freshest memory into her mind, she narrowed down on it, another wave of fury rolling through her at the vivid image.
That deceptive, blood-sucking nightwalker!
The vamp had lured her from the club. The vamp with the black eyes and black hair who’d been in her dreams for what seemed like a lifetime. Had lured her from the club where she’d been staring into an untouched margarita, into the open night, his tongue and lips and hands driving her wild with a lust she didn’t know existed. Never had she felt so aware of her body, of the pulsing muscles between her thighs, of the tiny nub of flesh buried in the slick folds of her cunt. She’d thought he was a dream until his teeth sank into her neck. A dream brought on by loneliness and vigilance and denial. A dream of the forbidden. Then his fangs had punctured her flesh and she’d felt warm liquid gush from her jugular into his masterful mouth, felt the velvet rasp of his tongue lapping her blood, felt the painful yet oh, so exquisite pressure as he suckled her life-force.
Her mind had screamed. Her cunt had constricted. She’d cried out – in livid rage and perfidious rapture – and that was when the other vamps closed in. Three of them. Oozed from the shadows of the moonless night like pale phantoms and took her. Their hands joining his on her body, squeezing her pleasure-swollen breasts, cupping her ass-cheeks, mauling her fluttering, sodden pussy.
She couldn’t fight them all.
Even as the demon inside her roared for release, the lead vamp – that black-eyed, fallacious bastard – sank his fangs in deeper. Locked her to him as surely as the silver shackles held her to the dais now.
Locked her to him in more than one way.
A chill rippled through Inari. Pinched her nipples into rock-hard, painful tips. They were creatures of opposite species – she and the black-eyed vampire – but she knew his species well. Knew them, hunted them. Killed them. As all Master-Hunters did, she knew everything about them, which meant, the second his fangs punctured her neck and he began to feast on her oxygen-rich blood, she knew he was not after her life. He was not killing her. He was biding her. To him. Owner to property. Master to Slave.
Fuck.
She’d been caught by a Master and now she was the property of his nest.
And with the silver shackles on her wrists and ankles, there was nothing she could do to stop them doing whatever they wanted to her.
Her cunt fluttered at the dark thought. Fluttered with even darker greed.

Hot Excerpt – Viva Los Regalos: Kat and Mouse

Viva Los Regalos: Kat and Mouse
In The Game of Cat and Mouse, Someone Is Bound To Get Eaten.
©2007 Lexxie Couper

Available Now

Australian Federal cop Katrina O’Brien’s on the tail of an international jewel thief, a mysterious criminal known only as The Mouse. She’s not going to let him get away, even when his trail leads her to the sinfully decadent US resort Los Regalos, a place where your every desire is catered to. Katrina’s desires run deep and dark, and The Mouse is more than willing to accommodate them. But so is someone else. Someone who’s been watching them both. Someone who knows everything about them…

Someone dangerous.

Someone powerful.

Someone not human…

***

Flynn held her wrists, holding them behind her in a grip both inescapable and powerful. “Why did you come here?”
The feel of his body pressed to hers made her pussy flood with cream. His cock, ram-rod straight and harder than steel, ground against her ass, burning her flesh like a brand even through the cotton of her shorts. “To see you,” she answered, her normally confident voice just a whisper.
“To see me or to be fucked by me?”
Both.
She wanted to say the word, but it refused to pass her lips. Instead, she tried to pull away from his hold. “Let me go.”
“Tell me!” he demanded, jerking on her wrists.
Her shoulders ached a little, a slight burn that made her feel alive. Her life had been about playing it safe, never taking risks, but everything about Flynn Masters was a risk. An addictive risk…
“Tell me!”
“Both.”
One hand left her wrists and reached around her body, closing over her left breast with a possessive arrogance. She whimpered, a pitiful sound that seemed louder than a gun shot. “I told you never to come here.”
The growled statement made her skin tingle. Her nipples pinched harder, straining against the material of her bra and t-shirt. How could she not come to him? When he made her feel so… so…
Wanted?
Was that it? Was that the attraction? The desperate longings of a lonely child of affluent parents who didn’t know how to stop working? Who sent her to boarding school the moment she could spell her name?
Or was it more?
Dangerous.
Love.
His hand left her breast, fingers tickling the lines of her ribcage as he explored a line down to her waist. With an ease both disturbing and thrilling he slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt, pressing his palm to her bare skin.
She gasped and arced her spine, pressing her ass harder to his rigid shaft.
“Is this why you disobeyed me? To have me touch you?”
She didn’t answer.
He skimmed his hand up the curve of her ribcage, capturing her breast once again. Her nipples puckered into painful tips of want, rubbing against the material of her bra, pushing his palm with an urgency that sent hot ribbons of shame and hunger into her being.
“This isn’t a game, Katrina.” The growl in her ear made her shiver. “If you’re here to be fucked, tell me.”
“I’m here to be fucked.”
The hands on her body grew brutal and she whimpered again, eyelids fluttering close, pussy pooling with wet rapture.
“By who?”
Her cunt constricted. Her knickers grew damp. Anger flared in her chest. Anger at herself. At him. “By you, Flynn. Only you.”
Without warning, he curled his fingers around the edge of her bra and ripped it aside, claiming her breast with a force that made her cry out. “Tell me again.” He pinched her nipple, rolling the nub of flesh between thumb and finger even as he tightened his grip on her wrists. “Tell me what you want me to do to you. I want to hear it from your lips.”
She bucked against him, molten lust pouring into her sex. His strength overwhelmed her, stole her breath.
Just a lonely rich girl longing for danger…
She still remembered his almost inaudible words after the first time they’d kissed, uttered with deep rancour. Who he was bitter with she didn’t know, but she couldn’t stay away. And he didn’t want her to. She could tell. In the gentle way he brushed the hair from her face after he’d taken her on the bed, against the wall. In the softness in his eyes as he studied her, post-coitus, his fingers trailing over her body in a delicate exploration, as if he’d never seen something so precious. He was an enigma, a contradiction she wanted to solve. An addiction she didn’t want to do without.
God, did she love him?
Arrogant fingers flicked her nipple and the thought vanished, replaced by a wave of wild heat that poured into her very core. She writhed against him and he bit her neck, his teeth and tongue torturing her skin. She cried out, bucking in his hold. The action drove his cock harder to her ass, its insistent length setting her blood on fire.
Teeth nipped at her earlobe, sending shards of exquisite pain through her body. “Tell me!”
“I want you to touch me. To fuck me.”
The hand on her wrist tugged, bowing her backward, thrusting her breasts forward. “How?”
She sucked in a ragged breath, pulse pounding. “Hard.”
He squeezed her breast, his knuckles razing her aching, eager nipple. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it, Kat. Don’t play with me like I’m a – “
…toy.
The disembodied word floated through Katrina’s sleep-clouded brain like a ghostly whisper. She opened her eyes, staring about herself, completely confused.
Where was she?
A massive painting of a wild cat, a lynx, stared down at her from the wall above her head and it came back to her in a rush. Los Regalos. Abaddon. The Mouse.
And another memory…
Dragging her hands through her hair, she dropped her head. When had she fallen asleep? Hell, when had she even sat on the bed.
When you discovered the cat’s collar.
She snapped straight, staring at the latex costume still stretched out on display, albeit a little tussled now, beside her on the bed. Nothing new had arrived while she slept. No sudden appearance of a bottle of catnip or tray of kitty-litter.
Rubbing at her face she turned to the suite’s far window. Sunlight flooded the room, painting everything with a golden glow. She squinted at it, feeling more fuzzy and jet-lagged than ever. God, how long had she been asleep for?
A quick glance at her watch gave her the answer. Five hours. Five hours sleep in the last forty-eight. She suppressed a groan. No wonder she was having disturbing dreams. Sleep deprivation was a legitimate psychological tor-
Blackjack tomorrow. 6am. Or has the Kat become a chicken?
The Mouse’s arrogant note flashed through her head and she leapt to her feet. 6am! Damn. It was already 5:45!

Roast Pumpkin and Leek Risotto

We had this for dinner last night. YUM-O!

• Serves: 4
• Preparation: 10-15 mins
• Cooking: 40 mins

Ingredients

• 500g butternut pumpkin, cut into cubes
• olive oil spray
• 1 teaspoon butter
• 1 leek, sliced and washed
• 125g rashers bacon, rind removed and chopped
• 1 clove garlic, crushed
• 11/4 cups short grain rice
• 1 tablespoon VEGEMITE
• 1 litre (4 cups) boiling water
• pepper, to taste
• 1/4 cup finely chopped parsley
• 40g butter
• shredded Parmesan cheese

Method

1. SPRAY pumpkin with olive oil spray and bake at 200ºC for 25-30 minutes or until golden. Heat butter in a pan and cook the sliced leek, bacon and garlic for 2-3 minutes or until bacon is browned.
2. ADD rice and stir for 2 minutes or until coated in butter mixture. Stir in combined Vegemite and water. Bring to boil, reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 10-15 minutes, stirring occasionally until water is absorbed and rice is cooked.
3. REMOVE from heat and stir in pepper, parsley, and butter. Spoon into serving bowls and top with shredded Parmesan. Serve immediately.

Flash Fiction Fridays BEGIN!

Every Friday I’m going to post a FREE FLASH FICTION (check out the schedule to the right for what happens on the other days of the week)

To begin… some vampire Flash Fiction. Enjoy.

Her scent filled his body. His muscles coiled hard, his cock, harder. She’d alluded him for too long. Tonight…

He crossed the room, every fibre of his being focussed on her. Only her. His body thrummed, all too aware of what was to come.

She slept, unaware of his presence. Delicious. Vulnerable. His.

The creamy column of her neck drew his stare and he drew in a swift breath. The musky scent of her sex threaded through his empty soul and his still heart skipped a beat.

Blue eyes opened. Saw him. “Yes,” she whispered.

He sank his fangs into her neck.

She claimed his soul with her love.