Musing Mondays: Too Much of a Good Thing…

Musing Mondays is hosted by Should Be reading. Last week I ranted a bit about sex words that I personally find unsexy (read it here).

This week instead of a rant I’m going to muse on something that happens to most of us who read tons of books. It can happen at any time without warning, and when it does…it’s downright scary…

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Our Favorite Posts of 2013

We’ve had a lot of posts published this year. These are the ones we’re proudest of or enjoyed the most…

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I need some Fifty…and an editorial.

I don’t think an explanation is necessary as to why…but I need some Fifty today. An editorial follows.

Here are just a couple of quickies…altho the words Fifty and quickie have no relationship to each other at all 😉

These are all taken from Fifty Shades Darker by E L James-

“So help me God, Anastasia, if you don’t eat, I will take you across my knee here in this restaurant, and it will have nothing to do with my sexual gratification. Eat!”

” Appearances can be deceptive,” he says quietly. “I’m anything but fine. I feel like the sun has set and not risen for five days, Ana. I’m in perpetual night here.”

“Do you know how much you mean to me?” he breathes against my ear.  “No,” I gasp. He smiles against my neck, and his fingers curl around my jaw and throat, holding me fast for a moment. “Yes you do. I’m not going to let you go.”                           I groan as he picks up speed. “You are mine, Anastasia.” “Yes, yours,” I pant.  “I take care of what’s mine,” he hisses and bites my ear.  I cry out.  “That’s right, baby, I want to hear you.” He snakes one hand around my waist while his other hand grasps my hip, and he pushes into me harder, making me cry out again. And the punishing rhythm starts. His breathing grows harsher and harsher, ragged, matching mine. I feel the familiar quickening deep inside. Jeez again!

I am just sensation. This is what he does to me- takes my body and possesses it wholly so that I think of nothing but him. His magic is powerful, intoxicating. I’m a butterfly caught in his net, unable and unwilling to escape. I’m his…totally his. “Come on, baby,” he growls through gritted teeth and on cue, like the sorcerer’s apprentice I am, I let go, and we find our release together.

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