More than Just Sex by Victoria Vane
By far my greatest challenge since
re-inventing myself as an erotic romance author, has been the erotic part, for
the key to writing erotic romance is not found in describing sex in graphic
positions and detail, but in using sex to show emotional intimacy. Bringing genuine emotion into a story is one of
the most difficult undertakings of any writer, but to integrate this into sex
scenes is exponentially harder. In erotic romance, as opposed to erotica, the
focus of love scenes should be much more than titillation. Well written love
scenes should reveal something about the characters (emotion), as well as
serving to advance the plot.
Although the novellas that comprise
the Devil DeVere series are closely connected, and in essence tell a continuing
story, each has a distinctly different
theme and tone with the sex scenes geared to support that theme.
In the first novella of the series,
the romantic comedy, A WILD NIGHT'S
BRIDE, I used a strong element of fantasy. This evinces itself in several
ways. Phoebe is an actress who adopts her stage persona in order to find a
protector. When she meets the hero, Ned, it is in a high-end brothel that is
staging a fantasy reenactment of Otaheitian fertility rites. On top of that,
the culminating scene between the hero and heroine occurs in the King's
bedchamber at St. James Palace. It's all rather over-the-top but it works
because of the fantasy elements. In the following excerpt we can see Ned's
internal struggle between his guilt and desire, and Phoebe's eagerness to do
anything to make him surrender.
Excerpt:
"But now
there is a new game I wish to play. It is a fantasy. Have you ever fantasized,
dear Ned? Have you ever imagined wicked things you would never dare voice
aloud?" She ground her pubis against his erection and could almost hear
his armor of resolve cracking. "Look about you. You are in the King of
England's bedchamber. The most powerful men in the civilized world have
cavorted in this very same bed. Charles alone had what, fifteen mistresses?
What decadent and sinful things must have happened here. What wicked things we
could do together." She looked at him with a sultry smile. "Now I
ask, my darling, do you wish to play?"
Who the devil was
she? What was she up to? She was like two different women inhabiting a single
body. Ned's head, having never fully recovered from the kava or the brandy, was
spinning.
"This
wager," he said, wrapping his large hands about her tiny wrists and pulled
her arms behind her back. "The danger. It excites you."
Her pick tongue
darted over her lips, giving him confirmation. She had confessed to playing a
game, using him for her own pleasure, but he knew she lied. He could read the
deception in her guileless blue eyes, but her quickening breath and hardening
nipples bore witness that her desire was assuredly real.
She was aroused,
irresistibly so. In the dark confines of the closet, he had explored the curves
of her body, had smelled her desire, but had been denied the visual treat. His
restraint was slipping. Fast. Thinking to intimidate her, to get the truth out
of her, he loomed over her with a tightened grip. "You truly wish to play
this out?" He backed her slowly toward the bed, but to his consternation,
she refused to back down.
She met him with a
brazen gaze. "Yes."
Her reply shot a
bolt of carnal hunger straight to his groin. Damn her for taking it this far!
But if she truly wished to play the wanton with him, as all signs
indicated—why the
devil should he continue to resist? With agonizing awareness, he sensed the
wetness pooling between her thighs, while he stubbornly grappled with the
remaining shreds of his conscience. "Do you understand what you're
doing?" he asked, his need growing rampant, uncontainable.
"I've been
celibate three years. The closet was one thing. Taking you into this bed is
quite another. I won't be gentle. I'm more than likely to fuck you
senseless."
"Yes,"
she whispered. "I know what I'm doing. And I know what you need."
She gazed into
his eyes and ran her tongue over luscious pink lips. He was instantly stiff as
a spike. He closed his eyes, yet her voice filled his ears with dark and
illicit promise. Bloody hell, but it was too much! Far more than any mortal man
could be expected to resist.
"I will do
anything you want," she said. "Anything at all. You will be the king,
Ned...and I will be your whore."
Excerpt:
He knew she was more than ready for him. Even with his dearth of
first-hand experience, he recognized the intensity of her arousal. It was
present in every soft sound of pleasure she made, the way her body responded
under the lightest touch and—God help him—the
essence of her sex. His hands stroked her smooth thighs, moving steadily
upward, while his mouth made its own stealthy descent. He wanted to bury his
face in her mons and drink in the downy texture and tangy scent of aroused
woman. The thought alone nearly undid him, so overwhelming was the realization
of his erotic dreams to his deprived senses.
But Hew was supremely self-possessed, and this was, indeed, an exercise
in discipline. Experience had already taught him the futility of trying to rein
Vesta in by any conventional means, for she was governed only by her passions.
Thus, he would use passion to govern her.
"Spread your legs for me, Vesta" he commanded.
"But—"
"Do you wish me to touch you again?"
"Yes, I do. Truly!" She gasped.
"Then do what I ask of you."
"But, Hew! You mustn't!" She cried out when he nuzzled her nest
of curls, inhaling deeply of her heady perfume. "It's… indecent!"
"Says who?" He chuckled. "Have you not read the
Scriptures, Vesta? "Awake, O north wind, and come, wind of the south, Make
my garden breathe out fragrance, let its spices be wafted abroad. May my
beloved come into his garden and eat its choice fruits."
"You can't possible think that means…"
He cocked a brow at her. "After extensive meditation on it, indeed,
I do, my dearest."
He parted her quivering thighs, allowing himself to finally gaze upon the
exotic garden he had hitherto only imagined. "And what a lovely and
fragrant garden you have."
She made a half-hearted sound of protest as he gently parted her nether
lips for more intimate exploration. Unfurled before his eyes like a hothouse
flower, she resembled an orchid in truth, all delicate folds, so pink and slick
and soft against his tongue. He took his initial taste of her desire, and Hew
felt something akin to drunkenness, intoxication by lust. It was sheer agony to
his throbbing cock to touch her, to kiss her so intimately, knowing she wanted
him, writhed for him.
Yet he gently licked and kissed each part of her, watching, listening to
her sultry sounds, learning her body and responding to her cues, resolved to
bring her into submission if it killed him. "You may lower your arms
now," he instructed, "for I wish to see you touch your breasts."
"You want me to…"
"You heard me," he said. "I want you to fondle your
breasts while I kiss your sex. Your obedience is wanting, Vesta. Perhaps I
should desist?"
***
Lastly, in THE
DEVIL YOU KNOW my theme is secrets, for most of the key characters are hiding
something. In the following excerpt, Diana's world has shattered which leads
her to finally succumb to DeVere's ruthless pursuit. The loves scene
demonstrates that even DeVere is not the heartless rake he would have everyone
believe, for underneath his hardened veneer is a man of surprising insight and
sensitivity.
Excerpt:
"God, yes," he groaned as he threaded
his fingers through her hair. Her rhythm increased with the encouragement, her
mouth becoming a voracious vortex of pleasure. Every fiber of his being fired
with exquisite sensation. His vision blurred, his sac contracted. He was going
to explode hard. But not this way.
Not this time.
"Enough," he growled. His bollocks
throbbed with agonizing pressure to release his essence. Still, he withdrew
from her mouth.
"But you haven't..."
"No. I won't come in your mouth. Not the
first time," he said, tamping down the powerful compulsion to do just
that. Instead, he flipped her onto her stomach and straddled her thighs. He
slid a hand under her belly to raise her hips, and she bucked under him with a
strangled sound.
"No! Please don't!" she cried out
with a hysterical sob and burrowed her face into the pillow.
Christ
Jesus! He turned her over. "Diana,
what the devil is wrong?"
Her eyes were wide. She trembled. "Weren't
you going to..."
"Sodomize you?" he finished, aghast.
"Did he..."
Her lower lip quivered. She nodded mutely.
"That bloody buggering bastard!" His
vision blurred again, but this time in blind rage. He pulled her into his arms,
kissing her deeply, stroking, soothing. "It's all right, my love. I won't
ever do anything to hurt you. Do you understand me, Diana?"
"Yes," she whispered. "I'm so
sorry."
"Don't apologize," he said, his fury
adding a harsh and unfamiliar edge to his voice. "Just know that whatever
we do together is about mutual
pleasure. I will never do anything
you don't wish me to do."
"I know that now," she said, twining
her arms around his neck and kissing him back.
"Do you? Then let us be certain." He
pulled her down on top of him.
"What are you doing?"
"Putting you in control," he
answered, positioning her thighs on either side of his hips. "We shall
start the races early, my dear, for you shall ride me."
***
While I endeavor to bring to each of my stories a scorching
hot sensuality, in each case, the sex
scenes are geared to emphasize the particular theme of the story by advancing the
plot, demonstrating developing intimacy between characters, or by revealing
something new about the characters. It's never just about the sex!
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
A lover of history and deeply romantic stories, Victoria Vane combines these elements to craft romantic historical novels and novellas for a mature reading audience. Her writing influences are Georgette Heyer for fabulous witty dialogue and over the top characters, Robin Schone , Sylvia Day, and Charlotte Featherstone for beautifully crafted prose in stories with deep sensuality, and Lila DiPasqua for creative vision in melding history with eroticism. Ms. Vane also writes award nominated romantic historical fiction as Emery Lee (http://authoremerylee.com)
CONTACT:
victoria.vane@hotmail.com
Twitter: @authorvictoriav
And The Exciting Giveaway!
Victoria will give one randomly chosen commenter a download of her first erotic historical romance A Breach of Promise.
Contest through Goddess Fish Promotions, and you can find more dates and times to enter here:
The
Devil DeVere Series
By
Victoria Vane
(Book #1) A WILD NIGHT'S BRIDE:
What happens when a struggling actress and a grieving widower come together in a night of unbridled debauchery orchestrated by a bored and machinating rake? With the devil in charge — there will surely be hell to pay!
"As I said earlier, there is no need," Phoebe insisted. "A couple of buttons and a raised petticoat are all the business requires."
"How delightfully unromantic you are, my dear!" He chuckled. "But while most men would be charmed to comply with your simple wishes, I have quite another game in mind. One that most definitely requires you to disrobe."
"But what if I don't want to?"
"Oh but you will," he said with a smug smile.
She glared. "You are very sure of yourself!"
He studied his buffed fingernails. "I am sure of Ned. Thus, we must put on a convincing show."
Her brows came together in a deep scowl. "What do you mean? What has Ned to do with this?"
"Everything. And at any moment, I expect him to burst through that door like a raging bull."
What happens when a struggling actress and a grieving widower come together in a night of unbridled debauchery orchestrated by a bored and machinating rake? With the devil in charge — there will surely be hell to pay!
EXCERPT:
DeVere, on the other hand,
evinced no such qualms. He had already loosened his cravat and was stripping
off his coat.
"As I said earlier, there is no need," Phoebe insisted. "A couple of buttons and a raised petticoat are all the business requires."
"How delightfully unromantic you are, my dear!" He chuckled. "But while most men would be charmed to comply with your simple wishes, I have quite another game in mind. One that most definitely requires you to disrobe."
"But what if I don't want to?"
"Oh but you will," he said with a smug smile.
She glared. "You are very sure of yourself!"
He studied his buffed fingernails. "I am sure of Ned. Thus, we must put on a convincing show."
Her brows came together in a deep scowl. "What do you mean? What has Ned to do with this?"
"Everything. And at any moment, I expect him to burst through that door like a raging bull."
Desperate times call for devilish measures…Lady Vesta Chambers is accustomed to getting what she wants, but when the object of her passion has eyes for another, it’s time to take matters in hand!
Excerpt:
"But it is so large and
swollen, is it painful?
"No, just uncomfortable. Now, may we stop discussing my …" the appropriate word for feminine ears failed him.
"Phallus?" she offered. "That is what the grooms call it."
"Why are you eavesdropping on grooms?"
"I used to watch the stallions leaping the mares."
"You what!" Hew almost choked.
"Well, how else is a girl with no mother supposed to get any education? Although I doubt Mama would have told me very much. So there's really no reason to be timid, Hew. I already know all about the mating process. And to the best of my knowledge, the stallions never 'ignored it until it went away.' Please feel free to relieve yourself of it. I would even help you if you would like. I'm not the least afraid for I have seen much larger ones."
(Book #3) THE DEVIL YOU KNOW : When dealing with the devil it's easy to be burned…especially when passion ignites the flames…
Beautiful, respectable, and dutiful, Lady Diana
Palmerston-Wriothesley has long resigned herself to her loveless marriage
…until her husband's gambling pushes them to the brink of ruin. Viscount
Ludovic, "The Devil DeVere", is a man accustomed to taking what he
wants according to his whim until he encounters a woman who won't be had at any
price. But will a single night of heavenly passion damn them both forever?
He moved behind her, his fingers riffled gently through her hair. He closed his eyes to inhale her faint rose scent mixed with womanly musk. He dipped his head, letting his breath tickle her ear. She shivered. He whispered low and sultry. "Do you wish me to name the ways I can please you? I am delighted to comply if that excites you...although it would please me far more to demonstrate."
Excerpt:
She wanted him too. He could
see it in the rapid rise of her breasts. He could smell her budding arousal and
would relish bringing her to full bloom. God, how he loved this dance! She had
taken the first tentative steps, yet she still fought her desire, refused to
give in to it, but he would lead her now. He was a master…and a ruthless
bastard.
He moved behind her, his fingers riffled gently through her hair. He closed his eyes to inhale her faint rose scent mixed with womanly musk. He dipped his head, letting his breath tickle her ear. She shivered. He whispered low and sultry. "Do you wish me to name the ways I can please you? I am delighted to comply if that excites you...although it would please me far more to demonstrate."
(Book #4) THE
DEVIL'S MATCH:
Once burned twice shy… but when old flames come together…passion reignites...
Excerpt:
DeVere rose and came to her,
perching himself on the arm of the settle. "My honorable and straitlaced
brother could never satisfy a woman like you, Diana. He could never plumb the
depths of your passion...unlock your secret desires."
His voice was low and seductive, and the flickering blue fire in his eyes heated her insides. Diana fiercely tamped down the smoldering sensation that threatened to reignite feelings she'd struggled to suppress. "And what would you know of my wants and desires after four years?"
"A great deal." He gave her a slow, confident smile. "Given that I was the one to unleash them."
Diana averted her face with a bitter laugh. "Thus you presume to have an exclusive claim to me?"
"Has any other exerted one?" he asked softly. He reached out a hand and traced a long, manicured finger along her jaw. "You are still unwed, Diana. Have you taken another lover in my absence?"
"It is none of your business whether I have or not, and you are grossly impertinent to ask."
He laughed long and low. "I think I have my answer."
She glared at him, and thus they remained, silently challenging one another for an interminable beat. Then suddenly his mouth was on hers, taking, possessing, as if it was indeed, his singular privilege.
Diana leaned into him, teasing his lower lip with her tongue and sucking it eagerly into her mouth before sinking her teeth into it. Hard. Savoring the coppery taste of his blood.
"What the hell!" DeVere jerked back with a cry. He touched his lip and examined the crimson stain on his fingertip, his expression a mix of outrage and bemusement.
"You took without invitation," Diana said. "It was a warning not to do so again."
