Stacia Kane

Overall this is a very nice scene! I think it just needs a little expansion and the ruthless elimination of dialogue tags and the phrase “and then”. I especially like the dialogue in this one; very smooth and sexy

I came back, closed off the door, and looked at Jackerton. “Now,” I said, “if you’re through being a macho asshole, maybe we can have a conversation.”

He grinned and stepped closer to me. “Put that down, will you?” He pointed to the gun. You can lose that tag. “It’s not a ‘conversation’ if it’s held at gunpoint.”

“I’ll put the gun down when you stop using your body against me,” I said. Lose the tag. Anger flushed my cheeks. When a man can overpower a woman like she’s a rag doll, yanking her around without even breaking a sweat, serious weaponry just equalizes the situation. Heh

He took another step closer, and reached gently out for the gun. “Slowly” might be better, or something like “His hand inched toward the gun”. I held it away from him, but kept it ready. “Using my body against you?” he asked, still smiling. You could probably lose this. It’s not awful, but it’s not strictly necessary, and if you really want it to indicate a pause you could maybe come up with something else that would foreshadow a little better. His tone makes her wary, something like that? “You mean, like this?”

In a half of take out “of” a heartbeat, he had lose “had” knocked the gun out of my hand and lifted me against the wall. The gun skittered away across the floor as his weight pressed into me. His powerful hands were at my waist, and my feet dangled at least a quarter meter off the floor. A quarter meter? Isn’t the character American (I know you mentioned Jack as having a specific tie to a specific US city, so I assumed)? We don’t use meters, we use feet and inches. An American wouldn’t think in metrics. “Bastard!” I yelled, twisting in his grip, kicking at him, but he held me firmly. I’d put “Bastard!” I twisted in his grip, etc. Because “yelled” sounds a little overdramatic to me, especially in first POV. Would I never learn? How had I let him do this to me again?

He let go of my waist with one hand, bringing the hand up to my chin. “He let go of my waist with one hand and gripped/cupped my chin”/“he let go of my waist with one hand, bringing it up to my chin”/“He took one hand off my waist and held my chin instead”/”One hand left my waist and moved to my chin” etc. He held my head steady as he leaned in for another terrible hot kiss. He held my head steady/in place and leaned in… “terrible hot kiss” is great

I resisted, but his tongue was in my mouth before I could stop him. And my body was responding, just as it had last night. And my body responded, just as it had the night before The scent I caught of him was pure sex, and I answered with pure desire. He smelled like pure sex, and… Stop it! Symbiant screamed in my head. Bite his tongue! Knee him in the balls! But there was nothing Symbiant could do against this onrush of lust, of need, of passion that surged through me. I’d wanted Jack Jackerton from the moment I laid eyes on him. In that moment, moment 2x I didn’t care if he was screwing my sister or killing my mother. I had to have him. Nice

I writhed against him, kissing him back with fervor, tasting his heat, savoring his incredible strength. I moved my hands down his huge, broad back. It was hard as carved marble, and a whole lot warmer. Very nice

His hands moved down, cupping my butt in the tight jeans. This allowed him to support my weight and lean away from me. How about “…jeans, so he could lean away from me while still supporting my weight” or “…jeans, supporting my weight so he could lean away from me”? Something like that. “This allowed him to” feels a little clinical He came up for air, and I gazed up at him, eager for more.

He laughed. “Say it, Jill. You want me to use my body against you, don’t you?” Hmm, this is a really sexy line. It might be better if instead of laughing he says it in a really low, husky voice, so we can not only see how sexy it is but how the kiss has affected him as well. Just a thought.

“Fuck you. You know I do.”

“‘Fuck you.’ That sounds like an awfully good idea, don’t you think?”

Stupid with desire, I opened my mouth for another kiss. And he granted it. Not sure “granted it” is such a good verb here; maybe “satisfied it” or “took it” or something? His hands were still on my ass. I could feel every finger through the fabric, exploring, caressing. Are his fingers supporting her weight and exploring and caressing, all at once? I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders.

He kissed me for another eternity, and take out “and” then took a step away from the wall, taking me with him. Took/taking; you might want to consider rephrasing It was as if I weighed nothing. He moved as though I weighed nothing? “Let’s see here,” he said, and then started to put me down. “Let’s see here.” He started to put me down.

“No!” I protested. I did not want to lose contact with him, not for an instant. “No!” I did not want to lose…

He grinned. “Just readjusting, little one. Here you go.” He set me down on something soft—whatever the squatters here were using for a bed, or couch, or whatever, I didn’t care. All I wanted was Jackerton again, touching me. And I got my wish. He leaned over, covering my body with his. And now I did not fight back.

I started undoing his shirt, the many buttons and fasteners and other complications. He shrugged out of it at long last, and his massive chest loomed over me. I reached up and buried my face in it, drinking in the scent of him, the deliciousness of it. He chuckled low and hungry, and ran his hands through my short hair, then down the side of my face, then to my own shirt. He pulled my sweater over my head and tossed it aside. The he reached for the waistband of my jeans, but only to untuck the t-shirt. He pulled that up pulled 2x, stopping to put a warm hand on the top of my breast, above the bra cup. Then he slipped a finger inside the cup, where my swollen nipple awaited his touch. This is a nice paragraph—the swollen nipple awaiting his touch is especially good—but I’d like to see more physical sensation here. He’s touching her, how does that feel? How is she reacting? His hand is warm, does it give her goosebumps? His chest is massive and smells good, but how does it feel, and how does he react when she presses her face to it? How she experiences his physical reactions is important, it can be extremely sexy

“Ohhhh,” I sighed, arching my back, rocking against his touch. Not crazy about “Ohhh,” I sighed”; I’d rather have “’”Ohhh.’ I arched… or ”I sighed and arched my back” or something along those lines. I’m not crazy about sound effects, and obviously I’m rather manic about dialogue tags He pulled the finger away and lifted the t-shirt over my head. It followed the sweater. His hands now take out “now” snaked behind my back, unhooking the bra. In a moment, my breasts were free. How about “snaked behind my back to the hooks of my bra. In a moment my breasts were free” or “snaked behind my back, found the hooks of my bra, and freed my breasts”? We want the most active and immediate verbs we can get

He lowered his hot mouth to my breasts—first the right nipple, then the left, his tongue rolling around them. I sighed again as he cupped both breasts, burying his face between them. His hot mouth descended on them—you’ve just mentioned her breasts so we know where he is and what she’s talking about. Also instead of his tongue rolling around them how about he rolls them with his tongue? And how does this feel? It’s good action, but we still don’t really have any show of her physical response except a couple of sighs and some wriggling

Somewhere in here, I noticed that Symbiant was still protesting. Give it a rest, dude, I thought to him. You know as well as I do how long it’s been. I think he was quiet after that. Or else I was distracted.

I began trying to undo Jackerton’s pants. They were green army issue, but they didn’t work like any army pants I’d ever seen. The belt was the first problem. It was part of the pants, but I couldn’t figure out how to unfasten it for the life of me. And it didn’t help that Jackerton was sucking on my nipples and unbuttoning my own jeans at the same time. How about, instead of starting with “I began trying to undo his pants”, which is a little telly, you start with “Jackerton’s pants were green army issue, but the fastenings refused to behave normally, and with his mouth moving slow and soft on my nipples like that I doubt I could have opened a Zip-Loc bag. Was the belt attached?” You know, something along those lines. Vary the sequence a little.

“Oh!” I cried, as a thick finger found its way inside me. I was soaking wet and slippery, and squirmed at his touch. Aside from the tag, this is maybe a little telly but is fine as is. Slippery is a good word. I think you can expand it a little again, though. He’s doing delightful things to her, how do they feel?
“Oh yes,” he said. Nice. He’s very clever, I dig that Then Don’t need “then” he reached down with one hand and undid his pants without even looking at them. Some sort of chagrin on her behalf here? I pushed them down his hips, and he kicked them away.

He was naked underneath the pants. His cock was huge, and already glistening at the tip. It pulsed eagerly, ready.

“Oh my god,” I said, reaching down and taking it into both hands. It jumped at my touch. Tag, tag, tag.

“I want you so bad,” Jackerton murmured, I always love this line, but I’m not cray about him murmuring it; murmur always feels sort of calm and quiet, and we want him desperate and gasping as he worked my jeans and underpants down at the same time. I tried to help, but I was pinned down by his weight, his size. I tried to help, but his hot, solid weight, the sheer size of him, kept me pinned in place. Finally he flung the jeans away and put both hands on my thighs, spreading them. How did that feel?

I looked up at him, mouth open, wanting another kiss. He leaned down and kissed me deeply as he entered me, filling me up everywhere at once. This is okay, but it would be nice to get some description of his thrust, of his eyes, of the way she throbs and screams for him, that sort of thing.

I breathed deep as I stretched—he was huge, and it had been a long time. Too long. I winced a little as he thrust into me. He pulled back and thrust again, and lose “and” deeper. I groaned, already half from pleasure now. By his third thrust, it was all ecstasy. I’d combine these sentences, expand them, so we get more of a sense of pleasure replacing pain. And I’m not crazy about ecstasy here I ran my short fingernails down his back and cupped his firm ass, urging him deeper, deeper. He obliged. Nice. But again, how does all this feel? She’s wanted him for so long, and he’s finally there, filling her, every inch of him hot and hard against every inch of her; can we get some sense of triumph and joy, of completion and excitement?

He drove into me, again and again, pushing me hard into the soft mattress. Hard/soft juxtaposition nice! The scent of incense lingered around us, mingling with the smell of our bodies, our sweat, our sex. He kept his mouth on mine as he thrust, his tongue deep into my mouth. mouth 2x I felt completely consumed by him, by our lovemaking, by the totality that was him. See, this is all very nice. I would prefer if instead of “I felt consumed by him” we got something like “He consumed me, our lovemaking consumed me, the totality of him driving me further and further away from the real world” or something

Then Lose “Then” he groaned and pulled his mouth away, panting. His rich dark eyes were shining, and he looked down at me. His rich dark eyes shone as he looked down at me “Oh god you’re so beautiful,” he said. Lose tag He thrust deeper, his hips moving at an impossible pace. I matched it, holding him tight. Is he sweaty under her palms? Can she feel his muscles moving? How is her breathing, is she shaking or panting or is her head spinning or whatever? His hands roamed behind us, underneath us, grabbing my ass again, naked this time, holding me closer, ever closer. Nice rhythm

I felt myself begin to build, to rise, to fall into his rhythm. I began to build, to rise… I closed my eyes to feel the intense pleasure of it, but suddenly he stopped. My eyes shot open, confused, but he was grinning. But 2x; also he grins a lot, it’s a little creepy “Hang on,” he said, and spun us over, so that I was astride him. “Sit up,” he said. Lose tag

I rocked back as his hands gripped my butt, holding me close, pressing into me. Then he worked my body on his as he thrust his hips up, and we found a new rhythm. This angle was deeper than ever, and I gasped as I adjusted. He might have split me in two…but I couldn’t stop. Very nice “Oh god, oh yeah,” I panted, as I again rolled my eyes back in my head and prepared to lose myself on the wave. Not crazy about the tag but it’s not terrible

This time, he let me. He held me to him and I leaned back into his strength, rocking, rolling on the flood of ecstasy. Nice Then the orgasm built—and then it exploded, all at once. If the two “then”s is a wordplay it’s okay but lose “and”. If not, lose the first “then” I screamed out as the tide obliterated me, as the passion that had been building in me poured over me, through me, out every pore in my body. Very nice A long moment later, he gave an answering cry, and I felt the telltale release inside me. He still held me, shuddering, emptying himself into me.

Finally, panting, I collapsed down lose “down” onto his chest. We were still interlocked, but he let go of his iron grip on my ass and started stroking my back gently. Stroked my back gently I listened to his heart pounding, matching mine.

Slowly, slowly, he receded inside me, as my aftershocks continued to caress him. After a long time, he put his hands on my hips, easing me off and over to the side of him. How about “A long time passed before he shifted my hips to ease me off…”?

“Mmm,” I murmured, resting my head in the crook of his neck.

He picked up my hand and kissed it, then laid it on his chest. Nice, sweet ending

Another first-person scene today. Jill in this one has a symbiant (whom I have cleverly named “Symbiant”) speaking in her head. Also, because Jack has a last name too, and is referred to by his last name on occasion, I have given him a new last name. He is “Jack Jackerton”. Hey, it’s Friday. I’m getting a little punchy.

I came back, closed off the door, and looked at Jackerton. “Now,” I said, “if you’re through being a macho asshole, maybe we can have a conversation.”

He grinned and stepped closer to me. “Put that down, will you?” He pointed to the gun. “It’s not a ‘conversation’ if it’s held at gunpoint.”

“I’ll put the gun down when you stop using your body against me,” I said. Anger flushed my cheeks. When a man can overpower a woman like she’s a rag doll, yanking her around without even breaking a sweat, serious weaponry just equalizes the situation.

He took another step closer, and reached gently out for the gun. I held it away from him, but kept it ready. “Using my body against you?” he asked, still smiling. “You mean, like this?”

In a half of a heartbeat, he had knocked the gun out of my hand and lifted me against the wall. The gun skittered away across the floor as his weight pressed into me. His powerful hands were at my waist, and my feet dangled at least a quarter meter off the floor. “Bastard!” I yelled, twisting in his grip, kicking at him, but he held me firmly. Would I never learn? How had I let him do this to me again?

He let go of my waist with one hand, bringing the hand up to my chin. He held my head steady as he leaned in for another terrible hot kiss.

I resisted, but his tongue was in my mouth before I could stop him. And my body was responding, just as it had last night. The scent I caught of him was pure sex, and I answered with pure desire. Stop it! Symbiant screamed in my head. Bite his tongue! Knee him in the balls! But there was nothing Symbiant could do against this onrush of lust, of need, of passion that surged through me. I’d wanted Jack Jackerton from the moment I laid eyes on him. In that moment, I didn’t care if he was screwing my sister or killing my mother. I had to have him.

I writhed against him, kissing him back with fervor, tasting his heat, savoring his incredible strength. I moved my hands down his huge, broad back. It was hard as carved marble, and a whole lot warmer.

His hands moved down, cupping my butt in the tight jeans. This allowed him to support my weight and lean away from me. He came up for air, and I gazed up at him, eager for more.

He laughed. “Say it, Jill. You want me to use my body against you, don’t you?”

“Fuck you. You know I do.”

“‘Fuck you.’ That sounds like an awfully good idea, don’t you think?”

Stupid with desire, I opened my mouth for another kiss. And he granted it. His hands were still on my ass. I could feel every finger through the fabric, exploring, caressing. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders.

He kissed me for another eternity, and then took a step away from the wall, taking me with him. It was as if I weighed nothing. “Let’s see here,” he said, and then started to put me down.

“No!” I protested. I did not want to lose contact with him, not for an instant.

He grinned. “Just readjusting, little one. Here you go.” He set me down on something soft—whatever the squatters here were using for a bed, or couch, or whatever, I didn’t care. All I wanted was Jackerton again, touching me. And I got my wish. He leaned over, covering my body with his. And now I did not fight back.

I started undoing his shirt, the many buttons and fasteners and other complications. He shrugged out of it at long last, and his massive chest loomed over me. I reached up and buried my face in it, drinking in the scent of him, the deliciousness of it. He chuckled low and hungry, and ran his hands through my short hair, then down the side of my face, then to my own shirt. He pulled my sweater over my head and tossed it aside. The he reached for the waistband of my jeans, but only to untuck the t-shirt. He pulled that up, stopping to put a warm hand on the top of my breast, above the bra cup. Then he slipped a finger inside the cup, where my swollen nipple awaited his touch.

“Ohhhh,” I sighed, arching my back, rocking against his touch. He pulled the finger away and lifted the t-shirt over my head. It followed the sweater. His hands now snaked behind my back, unhooking the bra. In a moment, my breasts were free.

He lowered his hot mouth to my breasts—first the right nipple, then the left, his tongue rolling around them. I sighed again as he cupped both breasts, burying his face between them.

Somewhere in here, I noticed that Symbiant was still protesting. Give it a rest, dude, I thought to him. You know as well as I do how long it’s been. I think he was quiet after that. Or else I was distracted.

I began trying to undo Jackerton’s pants. They were green army issue, but they didn’t work like any army pants I’d ever seen. The belt was the first problem. It was part of the pants, but I couldn’t figure out how to unfasten it for the life of me. And it didn’t help that Jackerton was sucking on my nipples and unbuttoning my own jeans at the same time.

“Oh!” I cried, as a thick finger found its way inside me. I was soaking wet and slippery, and squirmed at his touch.

“Oh yes,” he said. Then he reached down with one hand and undid his pants without even looking at them. I pushed them down his hips, and he kicked them away.

He was naked underneath the pants. His cock was huge, and already glistening at the tip. It pulsed eagerly, ready. “Oh my god,” I said, reaching down and taking it into both hands. It jumped at my touch.

“I want you so bad,” Jackerton murmured, as he worked my jeans and underpants down at the same time. I tried to help, but I was pinned down by his weight, his size. Finally he flung the jeans away and put both hands on my thighs, spreading them.

I looked up at him, mouth open, wanting another kiss. He leaned down and kissed me deeply as he entered me, filling me up everywhere at once.

I breathed deep as I stretched—he was huge, and it had been a long time. Too long. I winced a little as he thrust into me. He pulled back and thrust again, and deeper. I groaned, already half from pleasure now. By his third thrust, it was all ecstasy. I ran my short fingernails down his back and cupped his firm ass, urging him deeper, deeper. He obliged.

He drove into me, again and again, pushing me hard into the soft mattress. The scent of incense lingered around us, mingling with the smell of our bodies, our sweat, our sex. He kept his mouth on mine as he thrust, his tongue deep into my mouth. I felt completely consumed by him, by our lovemaking, by the totality that was him.

Then he groaned and pulled his mouth away, panting. His rich dark eyes were shining, and he looked down at me. “Oh god you’re so beautiful,” he said. He thrust deeper, his hips moving at an impossible pace. I matched it, holding him tight. His hands roamed behind us, underneath us, grabbing my ass again, naked this time, holding me closer, ever closer.

I felt myself begin to build, to rise, to fall into his rhythm. I closed my eyes to feel the intense pleasure of it, but suddenly he stopped. My eyes shot open, confused, but he was grinning. “Hang on,” he said, and spun us over, so that I was astride him. “Sit up,” he said.

I rocked back as his hands gripped my butt, holding me close, pressing into me. Then he worked my body on his as he thrust his hips up, and we found a new rhythm. This angle was deeper than ever, and I gasped as I adjusted. He might have split me in two…but I couldn’t stop. “Oh god, oh yeah,” I panted, as I again rolled my eyes back in my head and prepared to lose myself on the wave.

This time, he let me. He held me to him and I leaned back into his strength, rocking, rolling on the flood of ecstasy. Then the orgasm built—and then it exploded, all at once. I screamed out as the tide obliterated me, as the passion that had been building in me poured over me, through me, out every pore in my body. A long moment later, he gave an answering cry, and I felt the telltale release inside me. He still held me, shuddering, emptying himself into me.

Finally, panting, I collapsed down onto his chest. We were still interlocked, but he let go of his iron grip on my ass and started stroking my back gently. I listened to his heart pounding, matching mine.

Slowly, slowly, he receded inside me, as my aftershocks continued to caress him. After a long time, he put his hands on my hips, easing me off and over to the side of him.

“Mmm,” I murmured, resting my head in the crook of his neck.

He picked up my hand and kissed it, then laid it on his chest.

Overall this was very nice! Good sense of desperation, some nice character expansion. The main issues here are the need to vary sentence length and structure, and develop a better sense of rhythm. There’s also a tendency to use phrases like “she felt”, which actually remove the reader from the feeling (more on that in the comments). Also, try not to use “that” so much; it’s not always necessary as a bridge (“she thought that she would explode” should be “she thought she would explode”) or as a descriptive word or whatever the actual name for it is (“the hair that covered” should be “the hair covering”.)

But overall, this is good. Nice job!

She had taken only two steps when she heard Jack’s voice directly behind her. Lose directly

“You will not change my mind.”

Jill cringed at being caught eavesdropping. The stubborn set of his jaw served only to accentuate the fullness of his lips. You might want to mention she turns around, because going from cringing to his stubborn jaw feels a little abrupt. She forced herself not to recall the feel of them on her skin. Nice “You will not keep me prisoner in my own home.”

“You are not my prisoner.”

“No? Open the gates, I wish to go for a ride.”

“You will not leave these walls unescorted.”

“I do not need you to act as nursemaid to me.” Good dialogue, nice and smooth, gives us a good sense of character/conflict She turned to leave and forgot her wounded ankle. Unable to stifle the cry of pain she started falling forward and reached out. Hmm. How about: She turned to leave, but her wounded ankle had other plans/thoughts. Pain shot up her leg. A cry she couldn’t stifle broke the still air; she fell forward, her arms grabbing wildly at nothing. Jack grabbed her, pulled her toward the solid wall of his body. Or something like that. She’s falling but strong hands grabbed her, broke her fall? That sort of thing. I think this paragraph can be smoother; I don’t like the “unable to stifle the cry of pain she started falling forward and” bit, or “she found herself”. She found herself pulled back and pressed against Jack. One hand gripped her shoulder, the other wrapped around her waist, his palm pressed against her belly holding her to his hips.

“No?” Tthe whispered word caressed the skin of her neck and a shiver coursed down her spine. She heard him inhale her scent and heat pooled felt heat pool between her thighs. She would not let him do this to her. He could not do this to her, she wouldn’t allow it.

Spinning on her good ankle to face him, she tried to step away from his sensual heat. Structure! I know we want to avoid starting so many sentences in a row with “She” but there has to be a better way to avoid this. “Her ankle throbbed. She shifted her weight to the good one and tried” or “Thank God she still had one good ankle. She shifted her weight to it” or “Her body wanted to stay pressed against his, but she was stronger. She pushed herself away”. Her skirt could tangle around her legs, her breasts could heave, there’s all sorts of stuff you can put in there to fix it. Something along those lines. Strong hands held her in place. His mouth hovered near hers, the scent of honey ale on his breath. Her heart pounded in her ears.

“You need me more than you know.” His arms wrapped around her like bands of steel holding her to him. Bands of steel is a little cliché. Not awful but you might see what else you can come up with.

She did not need him. Not to protect her, and not to please her. “You are sorely mistaken, my lord.” She struggled against his arms but he held her in place. Could probably lose that line. “Castle has no need of your protection. Any who attack here will be threatening you, not Bob. The only sure way to see Castle secure is to leave.” He must leave. Before Another Character arrived, he must leave.

He licked his lips and her breasts swelled. Nice! “You forget my orders, my lady.” His confining arms moved on her, from holding her bound before him to holding her pressed against him. With a will of its own her body relaxed, leaning forward against the broad expanse of his chest, the narrow angle of his hips angle? and the muscles of his thighs. “I am to protect Castle, aye. But I am also to wed you. And it’s a duty I look forward to much more than pacing the battlements and watching for Cymric arrows.” His hands wandered over her back as he held her easily against him. Could lose everything after “as he held her”. Her bones seemed to melt as he stroked her. Two sentences in a row end with “her”; consider changing one. Maybe “His hands wandered over her back. It felt like her bones were melting”. Or combine it with this next sentence, which I am not crazy about: His hands wandered over her back, making her bones melt, making her nipples harden painfully against the fabric of her gown.” Sensitive against the fabric of her gown, her nipples hardened. A gasp of pleasure escaped her mouth lose “mouth” when he crushed her tender breasts against his hard chest.

“Aye, ‘twill be a much more pleasant duty to wed and bed you, Jill.”

His mouth came down on her open lips and the slick heat of his tongue stroked hers. Hmm. For some reason this feels a little yuck to me. The slick heat of his tongue…I dunno. The sensual caress of his mouth on hers watch your “hers”s; we know it’s hers, you don’t have to tell us every time he does something that he’s doing it to her. sent her arms around him. She clung to him as he backed her up against the wall of the stable. His palm closed over one breast and he gently kneaded the small mound of flesh. He caught her soft moan with his lips and sent it back to her. His palm closed over/covered one breast, gently kneading it, and she gave a soft, low moan. He caught it with his lips, gave back one of his own. That sort of thing. The taste of his breath in her mouth sent a rivulet of dew trailing down her thigh. Dew? A rivulet of dew? How liquidy is her lubrication? She could think of nothing but the feel of his mouth on her. She wanted him to tear off her gown and kiss her breasts. She wanted him to lift her skirts and press those full lips to the soft flesh of her thighs. Okay, all of these sentences have the exact same rhythm and basically the same length. So it feels dull and repetitive. Combine a few of them. You’ve got some good emotional/physical reaction stuff here—though it could be expanded—but it’s hard to feel it with the samey sentence structure.

As if he could read her thoughts, she felt her skirts rise. His hand moved over the flesh he exposed. As if he could read her thoughts, his hands found her skirt, lifting it, caressing the bare skin beneath.

Holding her to the wall with one hand pressed against her breast, he lowered himself and shouldered her legs apart. I’d say knelt instead of lowered himself, it’s kind of confusing as is. His tongue lapped at the moisture on her thigh and she shuddered in pleasure. The muscles of her sex clenched tightly at the new sensation.

He slid his tongue across her skin and into the hollow where her leg met her hip. Do you mean where her leg meets her hip (which is the outside of her thigh), or where it meets her ladyparts? How about “the hollow where her leg gave way to other, more sensitive parts”? Waves of intensity pulled at her, drawing her into the pleasure, tugging at her senses. “Drawing her in” instead of “drawing her into the pleasure”; aside from that, nice.

His mouth moved against her skin. She could feel his breath on the nest of hair that covered her mons. “Nest” isn’t really very sexy. On the delicate hair, on the soft hair? “Covering” her mons instead of “that covered”. And how about “His hot breath stirred the hair”? Try to stay away from describing physical sensations with “she felt”; it removes us from the action. If she felt like she was going to explode, that’s fine, but if she felt his hand move up her ribs, just say his hand moved up her ribs. Her clit swelled, sensitive and full, aching to be touched. She moved her hand to it reached for it, seeking to press it, stroke it, ease the horrible tension. His fingers closed over her wrist and pulled her hand away. A frustrated grunt escaped her and she tried again to touch her clit. It’s not very ladylike to grunt; couldn’t she groan instead? Grunt is the noise rutting pigs make.

His tongue caressed her swollen labia and she was forced to reach for his shoulder instead.

He teased and licked, but he went nowhere near the part of her that needed attention the most. She needed release. She needed to press and stroke that tiny bit of flesh. Perhaps he didn’t even know it was there? All nice

She ran her fingers into his hair and tried to guide him to it. How about shoved her fingers into his hair? You usually think of running fingers through hair, not into it He resisted, instead turning to her thighs again. Take out instead or put it after again. He completely avoided her clit. She was wet, cream slid down her legs and he focused himself on it, licking her clean. I’m not going to say anything here, but it’s a personal squick of mine.

His tongue pressed against her, slid over her, everywhere but the place she needed it most.

Desperate, she tried again to touch herself, to give herself the release he couldn’t. He brushed her hand away. She let go of his shoulder and leaned back against the wall, balanced on one shaking leg. Her hands moved to her center, desperately searching for release. Very nice. We feel her desperation here, and his dominance. However, we’re also starting to suspect he really doesn’t know what he’s doing, so he better find the money soon.

His fingers caught hers, pulling them from her and forcing them to her sides. He smiled up at her. Grinned or some other word might be better—a smile can be innocent and sweet. We want some sense that he’s deliberately teasing her, not that he really thinks he’s doing what he should She growled in frustration and couldn’t stop her hips from thrusting forward at him.

A sly smile slid over his features. “See how much you need me?” See, he was already smiling, so how can the smile spread across his features again?

Frustration turned to confusion as she wondered if he truly thought he was giving her what she needed. She could not imagine being married to this man, forced to endure the fumbling teases of his mouth everywhere but on her. Well, no, his mouth is on her, just not where it’s supposed to be. You might want to clarify that. Her clit ached. She needed to touch it, to feel orgasm grip her and send her spiraling away from the incomplete caresses he offered. From his incomplete caresses.

She fought him, trying to regain control of her hands so that she might show him what he should be doing, what she really needed. “Release me and I’ll show you what I need since you obviously have no knowledge what truly pleases a woman.” Since she says “what I need”, take it out of the exposition immediately before.

His dark eyes clouded, and she could see something in them change. Something in them changed It was a look she’d almost seen before. She was sure she’d caught glimpses of it from the corner of her eye.

“No?” He whispered the word and she could feel the challenge in it. Felt the challenge, not could feel

He gave her no time to respond. Holding her hands to her side he moved forward don’t need moved forward and sucked her clit into his mouth. Stars burst around her at the sensation of his hot lips pulling on the tiny bud of flesh. Burst around her as his hot lips… Her womb clenched, Her womb clenched? That always confuses me her legs quivered and she struggled against him to release her hands. Struggled to free her hands? His teeth tortured her as he slipped his tongue into her and fucked her with it.

She screamed her pleasure and he released her hands. She pushed desperately at his head. She had to remove him so that take out “that” she could finish. She pulled at his hair, tugging so hard she knew it would hurt and yet he didn’t let go. She gripped his jaw, but the feeling of it working on her sensitized flesh only heightened her need to have him stop. Balancing on the edge of a knife she prayed for release, but it wouldn’t come. He toyed with her clit, sucking it, nibbling at it, licking it, but with his hands locked around her legs she couldn’t push him off of her.

Tears welled in her eyes as she felt the crest of pleasure begin to fade. as the crest of pleasure began to fade or began fading or faded Why wouldn’t he let go? She needed him to step back, let her touch herself so that take out “that” she could finish. Actually, take out the whole phrase and leave it at “let her touch herself”; you’ve made it clear she needs to touch herself to finish.

Seeming to sense the change in her, he leaned back and let her skirts fall. Whimpering with unsatisfied need she pulled desperately at her skirts. Skirts 2x She ignored his confused expression and slid her hands against her wet flesh. Rhythm, rhythm, rhythm. Vary the flow of those three sentences. Furiously she worked against that tiny button. Her leg, no longer able to support her, buckled and she slid down the wall to the soft straw that covered the ground. Covering the ground.

She could feel his eyes on her as her orgasm neared. Felt, not “could feel” And when it finally reached her she looked up at him. I’d combine those two sentences With her gaze focused on his mouth, still wet with her juices, eew she came. Her head spun, her limbs became leaden. Expand this a bit She remained in place until her breath evened and her heart slowed. He stared at her, watching her slowly recover. How about combining those sentences? She remained in place, conscious of his steady gaze, until her breath evened and her heart slowed.

Instead of the satisfied grin she she’d seen on Another Character’s face, Jack looked at her at her as if she were a lamb and he a starving wolf. Nice Weighted by the craving that filled his eyes craving in his eyes she remained in place as he stood and walked away from her.

She watched him go, unable to understand why he would look at her so, and why she felt as if something was missing.

When she was finally able to stand, she lifted herself from the covered dirt floor and walked across the bailey on shaking legs.

Yes, yes. Late again, sorry. The day totally got away from me.

The author of this work has assured me there is a sound reason for the heroine’s rather curious behavior near the end.

She had taken only two steps when she heard Jack’s voice directly behind her.
“You will not change my mind.”

Jill cringed at being caught eavesdropping. The stubborn set of his jaw served only to accentuate the fullness of his lips. She forced herself not to recall the feel of them on her skin. “You will not keep me prisoner in my own home.”

“You are not my prisoner.”

“No? Open the gates, I wish to go for a ride.”

“You will not leave these walls unescorted.”

“I do not need you to act as nursemaid to me.” She turned to leave and forgot her wounded ankle. Unable to stifle the cry of pain she started falling forward and reached out. She found herself pulled back and pressed against Jack. One hand gripped her shoulder, the other wrapped around her waist, his palm pressed against her belly holding her to his hips.

“No?” the whispered word caressed the skin of her neck and a shiver coursed down her spine. She heard him inhale her scent and felt heat pool between her thighs. She would not let him do this to her.

Spinning on her good ankle to face him, she tried to step away from his sensual heat. Strong hands held her in place. His mouth hovered near hers, the scent of honey ale on his breath. Her heart pounded in her ears.

“You need me more than you know.” His arms wrapped around her like bands of steel holding her to him.

She did not need him. Not to protect her, and not to please her. “You are sorely mistaken, my lord.” She struggled against his arms but he held her in place. “Castle has no need of your protection. Any who attack here will be threatening you, not Bob. The only sure way to see Castle secure is to leave.” He must leave. Before Another Character arrived, he must leave.

He licked his lips and her breasts swelled. “You forget my orders, my lady.” His confining arms moved on her, from holding her bound before him to holding her pressed against him. With a will of its own her body relaxed, leaning forward against the broad expanse of his chest, the narrow angle of his hips and the muscles of his thighs. “I am to protect Castle, aye. But I am also to wed you. And it’s a duty I look forward to much more than pacing the battlements and watching for Cymric arrows.” His hands wandered over her back as he held her easily against him. Her bones seemed to melt as he stroked her. Sensitive against the fabric of her gown, her nipples hardened. A gasp of pleasure escaped her mouth when he crushed her tender breasts against his hard chest.

“Aye, ‘twill be a much more pleasant duty to wed and bed you, Jill.”

His mouth came down on her open lips and the slick heat of his tongue stroked hers. The sensual caress of his mouth on hers sent her arms around him. She clung to him as he backed her up against the wall of the stable. His palm closed over one breast and he gently kneaded the small mound of flesh. He caught her soft moan with his lips and sent it back to her. The taste of his breath in her mouth sent a rivulet of dew trailing down her thigh. She could think of nothing but the feel of his mouth on her. She wanted him to tear off her gown and kiss her breasts. She wanted him to lift her skirts and press those full lips to the soft flesh of her thighs.

As if he could read her thoughts, she felt her skirts rise. His hand moved over the flesh he exposed.

Holding her to the wall with one hand pressed against her breast, he lowered himself and shouldered her legs apart. His tongue lapped at the moisture on her thigh and she shuddered in pleasure. The muscles of her sex clenched tightly at the new sensation.

He slid his tongue across her skin and into the hollow where her leg met her hip. Waves of intensity pulled at her, drawing her into the pleasure, tugging at her senses.

His mouth moved against her skin. She could feel his breath on the nest of hair that covered her mons. Her clit swelled, sensitive and full, aching to be touched. She moved her hand to it, seeking to press it, stroke it, ease the horrible tension. His fingers closed over her wrist and pulled her hand away. A frustrated grunt escaped her and she tried again to touch her clit.

His tongue caressed her swollen labia and she was forced to reach for his shoulder instead.

He teased and licked, but he went nowhere near the part of her that needed attention the most. She needed release. She needed to press and stroke that tiny bit of flesh. Perhaps he didn’t even know it was there?

She ran her fingers into his hair and tried to guide him to it. He resisted, instead turning to her thighs again. He completely avoided her clit. She was wet, cream slid down her legs and he focused himself on it, licking her clean.

His tongue pressed against her, slid over her, everywhere but the place she needed it most.

Desperate, she tried again to touch herself, to give herself the release he couldn’t. He brushed her hand away. She let go of his shoulder and leaned back against the wall, balanced on one shaking leg. Her hands moved to her center, desperately searching for release.

His fingers caught hers, pulling them from her and forcing them to her sides. He smiled up at her. She growled in frustration and couldn’t stop her hips from thrusting forward at him.

A sly smile slid over his features. “See how much you need me?”

Frustration turned to confusion as she wondered if he truly thought he was giving her what she needed. She could not imagine being married to this man, forced to endure the fumbling teases of his mouth everywhere but on her. Her clit ached. She needed to touch it, to feel orgasm grip her and send her spiraling away from the incomplete caresses he offered.

She fought him, trying to regain control of her hands so that she might show him what he should be doing, what she really needed. “Release me and I’ll show you what I need since you obviously have no knowledge what truly pleases a woman.”

His dark eyes clouded, and she could see something in them change. It was a look she’d almost seen before. She was sure she’d caught glimpses of it from the corner of her eye.

“No?” He whispered the word and she could feel the challenge in it.

He gave her no time to respond. Holding her hands to her side he moved forward and sucked her clit into his mouth. Stars burst around her at the sensation of his hot lips pulling on the tiny bud of flesh. Her womb clenched, her legs quivered and she struggled against him to release her hands. His teeth tortured her as he slipped his tongue into her and fucked her with it.

She screamed her pleasure and he released her hands. She pushed desperately at his head. She had to remove him so that she could finish. She pulled at his hair, tugging so hard she knew it would hurt and yet he didn’t let go. She gripped his jaw, but the feeling of it working on her sensitized flesh only heightened her need to have him stop. Balancing on the edge of a knife she prayed for release, but it wouldn’t come. He toyed with her clit, sucking it, nibbling at it, licking it, but with his hands locked around her legs she couldn’t push him off of her.

Tears welled in her eyes as she felt the crest of pleasure begin to fade. Why wouldn’t he let go? She needed him to step back, let her touch herself so that she could finish.

Seeming to sense the change in her, he leaned back and let her skirts fall. Whimpering with unsatisfied need she pulled desperately at her skirts. She ignored his confused expression and slid her hands against her wet flesh. Furiously she worked against that tiny button. Her leg, no longer able to support her, buckled and she slid down the wall to the soft straw that covered the ground.

She could feel his eyes on her as her orgasm neared. And when it finally reached her she looked up at him. With her gaze focused on his mouth, still wet with her juices, she came. Her head spun, her limbs became leaden. She remained in place until her breath evened and her heart slowed. He stared at her, watching her slowly recover.

Instead of the satisfied grin she she’d seen on Another Character’s face, Jack looked at her at her as if she were a lamb and he a starving wolf. Weighted by the craving that filled his eyes she remained in place as he stood and walked away from her.

She watched him go, unable to understand why he would look at her so, and why she felt as if something was missing.

When she was finally able to stand, she lifted herself from the covered dirt floor and walked across the bailey on shaking legs.

First, my sincere apologies for the delay. I started this one a little late, then made dinner, and just after I finished Mr. Super Agent Man called, so it was a while before I got back to it. So I’m very sorry, everyone.

This was a really interesting scene to crit. The writer is obviously skilled; the main thing I felt from this, though, was that in attempting to make the piece show how deeply the characters love each other, the writer forgot to show us anything else. Like the writer believed if s/he got too graphic or descriptive or detailed at all we wouldn’t find it romantic anymore.

So as much as I do have comments to make (and I fear I got a little irreverent in my critique; please accept my comments in the light-hearted and fun way I intended them. Especially as heavily romantic scenes tend to bring out the goofball in me) there were definitely some things to like here. The writing was technically very nice; there were some good images and language choices here.

Overall, though, it was more tell than show, and so felt superficial.

Jack listened actively, his eyes never leaving hers. I don’t think you need “actively”; his eyes never leaving hers shows us he’s paying close attention. The room grew dark, until everything dimmed and blurred around them and she could see only him. Nice image. At last, she fell silent and stared into his drowny deep eyes. Again, nice. Hers filled up and she dropped her gaze as a tear rolled down her face. Maybe two sentences? “Hers filled up” or “Her own eyes filled. She dropped her gaze, not wanting him to see, but she couldn’t stop the tear that rolled down her face.” Just a thought.

Jack placed a tender finger on her cheek to block the tear’s path, and they stared at each other. First bit very nice. Again, though, I’d like a little more impact. Their eyes meet again here. The next line shows us her reaction but this moment, when their eyes meet, is when they both realize. So maybe “…the tear’s path. Their eyes met. For a moment/for an eternity/it felt like an eternity/they stared at each other. Into each other.” I know you’ve already got eyes in the last paragraph—there’s a lot of eyes, a lot of staring and gazing in this piece—but it feels like we need their gazes to hit with a physical impact, you know? Jill’s heart pounded in her throat, her whole body thrilling at his touch. I think I’d like her entire body to be focused on his touch better, or the impact of his touch sending shock waves through her whole body, but this is fine. She couldn’t speak. She didn’t think she could even breathe. Nice.

He removed his finger and waited, searching her eyes for a sign of… what? Resistance? Was he mad? No, she knew he wasn’t mad. He was just allowing her space and time to make her decision. You could take “her eyes” out of that first line.

She leaned into him and they kissed, and she felt his entire being in the sweet contact. He smelled of sunny skin and wood smoke. His breath was fresh, sweet and warm. She loved him. This is nice, but I’d like a little more description of the kiss than simply “and they kissed”. Without thinking she leaned into him, a slow movement like falling through a dream, and their lips met. Soft at first, tentative and questioning. Exploring. He smelled of sunny skin and woodsmoke, tasted of sweetness and the warmth of his soul. You used “sweet” 2x in this paragraph. I like the simple declarative “She lived him” though.

With a rush of truth she realised that take out “that” she really did love this man; she wanted this man; she wanted nothing on earth right now except to have this lovely, precious, wonderful man inside her. I am a huge fan of the semicolon, but I’d consider changing the first one to a period: …love this man. She wanted this man; she wanted nothing on earth… Also I’m not crazy about the “lovely, precious, wonderful”, but that’s a voice/personal taste issue.

They stared into each other’s souls. Nice. The more souls you can cram into sex scenes the better.

“I love you.”

They said it at the same time; felt the laughter ripple inside at the same time; felt the love and the truth. If they’re saying they love each other, we know they feel the love. Isn’t there anything else they can be feeling here? Wonder, delight, awe? Since the net exists, couldn’t we get a sense of them both feeling what the other feels, of the love intensifying and becoming a solid thing?

“My love.” Who is speaking here?

They thought and heard each other’s thoughts, “Oh, you are my love,” Is this all they’re thinking? I’m not crazy about the sentence structure there but can’t think of a way to fix it, save putting a period after thoughts and starting a new sentence with “They walked upstairs.” and walked upstairs, still entwined, to stand bathed in moonlight in Jill’s bedroom. How did they walk upstairs entwined? Also, this feels abrupt. They have one small kiss, they say their I love yous, then just walk upstairs? This is an important moment; where’s the passion? Where’s the need? This is a huge moment for them, but it feels ho-hum; you could probably do another page here in the living room, kissing and touching and getting lost in each other, before they decide they can’t wait another minute to head upstairs. Or they could do it on the couch, there’s no reason why we have to break the action to walk up the stairs. The net hummed and glowed in harmony as they undressed each other slowly, gently, with tenderness and open admiration. This should be expanded hugely. They’re undressing each other for the first time; again, show us the love and passion. Show them kissing each newly exposed inch of skin, show us the reverence (yes, Bernard, lol) with which they touch each other and look at each other, show us how they feel the love between them with every touch and look and soft sound. Turn us on; show us his broad manly chest, let us smell the warm musky scent of his skin and taste how it’s a little salty. Show us his hands gliding over her hard nipples and how that feels for her. Show us the contrast between the smooth cotton of their clothing and the textures of their skin.

He stood motionless, naked before her, beautiful in the blue light, watching carefully and listening to her thoughts. Whose POV are we in here? He’s just standing there watching her? There’s no sense of desire there; it feels like afterglow, not eager anticipation. Also if he’s listening to her thoughts and feels what she feels, why is he asking if she’s sure?

“Are you sure, Jill?”

“Jack, I’ve never felt surer about anything in my life.” They’re the only people there, would they really use each others’s names? It feels a little stilted. A thought occurred to her. I don’t think we need this line. “Are you okay with this?”

“Okay?” He smiled. “Yes, love. I’m okay with it.” This is a great opportunity to have him say how much he wants her, or “Are you kidding, I want you so bad I think I’m going to explode” or anything at all.

They lay on the bed and kissed; caressing each other; exploring each other; holding, stroking, cupping and kissing and stroking, you have kissing and stroking twice. Also, again, expand this, it’s all TELL. Where are they kissing and caressing and stroking? Are her hands sliding over his back, his bottom? Does she feel his hard chest against hers, feel her breasts crush against him? Does he take her nipples into his mouth while she tangles her fingers into his hair? Where are they exploring? Are they aroused by any of this? Show us how hard he is, show us how wet she is. You don’t have to use explicit language if you’re uncomfortable with it, but even without it you can say something like “They lay on the bed and kissed, their tongues tangling, and the kiss grew into touching, exploring. Jill’s entire life was captured in this moment, while Jack’s mouth whispered sweet words against her fevered skin, while his tongue tasted her gentle sweat. She was dizzy, she no longer existed as herself but was something else, someone else, a new person who belonged to Jack and to whom he belonged in turn”, blah blah blah that sort of thing. Give us some emotion here, something to engage us and all the time gazing intently into each other’s eyes they’re staring into each others eyes while kissing? Have you ever tried that? Because it’s really weird thinking each other’s thoughts and feeling each other’s emotions. But what are those thoughts and emotions? “She felt his adoration of her, a warm golden glow around her”, something like that.

Jill lay back and opened to him: trusting; trembling; watching. Replace semicolons with commas, and take out the colon. A colon is not a sexy piece of punctuation. Also, she just lay down flat on her back (I thought they were already lying down) and opened her legs? Perhaps it’s the lack of dialogue or emotion but that feels kind of porny to me. He knelt between her legs and slid gentle fingers inside. Inside where? Inside her? You could say “inside her”. Also, “He knelt between her legs” feels awkward. I picture him just kneeling there, staring at her, then moving one hand forward and poking her with it. Like a kid poking a bug with a stick, you know? And how did she feel when he inserted his finger? There’s no reaction from her at all here, which makes it seem even more like a sort of experiment on an inanimate object rather than a man making love to a woman. Electric shocks shot through her. Literally? Also, the sentences in this paragraph all feel rather bald. You had a good rhythm before, even if it was telly; the rhythm disappears here. These sentences are too short and declarative for a tender and hot moment. Also, when a shock shoots through her, it’s a little rhymey; a shock shot, shock shot, shock shot. Not a huge deal but something to be aware of. She was so wet. Show us this, don’t tell us. “His thick fingers slipped inside her, stretching her, gliding over her incredibly sensitive skin” or “spreading the creamy evidence of her arousal over her delicate skin”, something like that. He moved over her, holding his weight on his forearms for a few seconds while they kissed, and slid into her. So, wait a minute. He knelt between her legs, prodded her once with his finger, then pulled out, lay on top of her, gave her a seconds-long kiss, and slid inside? That’s not really very romantic or hot. Why did he kneel between her legs if he didn’t plan to actually do anything while he was there? Why didn’t he explore her a little more? It sounds more like he gave her a gynecological exam than that he did anything romantic or arousing. We have lots of stuff down there to play around with; things to stroke and roll between your fingers and tug and rub and pet and explore, and all of those things should produce a reaction from her, even if it’s just a vague and euphemistic one.

She was in heaven, with hot, hard velvet filling her completely. She felt his sensation, too; felt her soft, firm flesh moulding to him, holding him, clenching him tightly for long moments, felt his shiver from both inside him and inside her. See, this concept is really nice; I used it myself in Blood Will Tell. But this again is telling us what she feels, not showing us, although this is more showy than most; the second line is quite good. But you could do half a page at least on what she feels through him, how he notices all the little fissures and folds inside her massaging him with every stroke, how he’s experiencing her pleasure and it’s so intense for him, like they’re on this endless pleasure loop that just builds and builds and builds. I’m not crazy about “She was in heaven” though; it’s kind of telly, kind of cliché.

It was nearly over quickly, and that was no surprise. They stared deep into each other’s eyes again? There must be some other way to show their connection throughout, blinking slowly, sharing breath, sharing every sensation, sharing a pulse, and Jack came very close to coming after only a few minutes. Whose POV is that? Like the bit about sharing a pulse though, and there’s a nice rhythm here.

She took him in her arms and drew him down beside her. Beside her? But is he still inside her? They held on lightly, feeling the trembling subside, why is the trembling subsiding? What trembling is that? murmuring tender love. He kissed her breasts and sucked her nipple while he stroked her belly see, this should be really hot, but because we’re not feeling the heat elsewhere this just sounds awkward and down into her hot wetness, slid fingers inside her again, and she was pouring, pouring? Like a fountain around his cock? How did he get his fingers in there, isn’t he still inside her? and he spent gentle time loving her, and she jumped I get what you’re saying here, and it’s good that you’re showing her reaction, but “jumped” is a little strong; maybe gasped or jerked or twitched or something like that would work better when he found her clit and stroked it, circled it lightly, then faster and firmer and faster and firmer until she came, shuddering and gasping, her eyes wide with joy and wonder. “Clit” totally throw me out of the scene here. You’ve been so vague and euphemistic throughout, so to suddenly have clit, not even clitoris, is jarring. I don’t mind the run-on sentence at all, because sometimes you just need a run-on. This has a nice sense of urgency even if I’m not crazy about some of the wording. But her eyes are wide with joy and wonder? I don’t think I’ve ever kept my eyes wide open during an orgasm in my life. That may be just me and I’m a big freak, but it feels odd to me and doesn’t ring true.

She climbed astride and sat down on him and, oh, he was hard and deep inside her. Nice. I’d like more elaboration. How does the sensation in this position differ? Does she like the sense of being in control? Does she lean forward or back? Anything like that. She rode him slowly, then building faster and grinding harder. And how did that feel? Why did she increase her pace and pressure? They never broke their intense gaze, and it was beautiful. See, to me the staring feels creepy at this point. Is it sex or a staring contest? Plus, again, telling.

They made love all night and Jill lost count of how many times she came. She’d never imagined sex could be so wonderful, so magical, so all embracing and exquisite. This is a bit much but it’s okay. I think it would be good to have something about how she feels physically too, like she’s exhausted but more at peace than she’s ever been in her life, that sort of thing.

They lay together and watched dawn wash the shadows away, and she knew they would be together forever. I sense dark foreshadowing! Nice. Nice ending even if I’m wrong about the dark foreshadowing.

Okay, scene 3, and a bit of a change of pace; this is a “first love” scene (by which I mean it’s the all-important first time after “Jack” and “Jill” realize they love each other).

I’ve been keeping the plot info, blurbs etc. to myself, but I feel compelled to mention for the sake of clarity that the “net” referred to in this scene is a psychic bond, not an actual physical net.

Jack listened actively, his eyes never leaving hers. The room grew dark, until everything dimmed and blurred around them and she could see only him. At last, she fell silent and stared into his drowny deep eyes. Hers filled up and she dropped her gaze as a tear rolled down her face.

Jack placed a tender finger on her cheek to block the tear’s path, and they stared at each other. Jill’s heart pounded in her throat, her whole body thrilling at his touch. She couldn’t speak. She didn’t think she could even breathe.

He removed his finger and waited, searching her eyes for a sign of… what? Resistance? Was he mad? No, she knew he wasn’t mad. He was just allowing her space and time to make her decision.

She leaned into him and they kissed, and she felt his entire being in the sweet contact. He smelled of sunny skin and wood smoke. His breath was fresh, sweet and warm. She loved him.

With a rush of truth she realised that she really did love this man; she wanted this man; she wanted nothing on earth right now except to have this lovely, precious, wonderful man inside her.

They stared into each other’s souls.

“I love you.”

They said it at the same time; felt the laughter ripple inside at the same time; felt the love and the truth.

“My love.”

They thought and heard each other’s thoughts, “Oh, you are my love,” and walked upstairs, still entwined, to stand bathed in moonlight in Jill’s bedroom. The net hummed and glowed in harmony as they undressed each other slowly, gently, with tenderness and open admiration.

He stood motionless, naked before her, beautiful in the blue light, watching carefully and listening to her thoughts.

“Are you sure, Jill?”

“Jack, I’ve never felt surer about anything in my life.” A thought occurred to her. “Are you okay with this?”

“Okay?” He smiled. “Yes, love. I’m okay with it.”

They lay on the bed and kissed; caressing each other; exploring each other; holding, stroking, cupping and kissing and stroking, and all the time gazing intently into each other’s eyes; thinking each other’s thoughts and feeling each other’s emotions.

Jill lay back and opened to him: trusting; trembling; watching. He knelt between her legs and slid gentle fingers inside. Electric shocks shot through her. She was so wet. He moved over her, holding his weight on his forearms for a few seconds while they kissed, and slid into her.

She was in heaven, with hot, hard velvet filling her completely. She felt his sensation, too; felt her soft, firm flesh moulding to him, holding him, clenching him tightly for long moments, felt his shiver from both inside him and inside her.

It was nearly over quickly, and that was no surprise. They stared deep into each other’s eyes throughout, blinking slowly, sharing breath, sharing every sensation, sharing a pulse, and Jack came very close to coming after only a few minutes.

She took him in her arms and drew him down beside her. They held on lightly, feeling the trembling subside, murmuring tender love. He kissed her breasts and sucked her nipple while he stroked her belly and down into her hot wetness, slid fingers inside her again, and she was pouring, and he spent gentle time loving her, and she jumped when he found her clit and stroked it, circled it lightly, then faster and firmer and faster and firmer until she came, shuddering and gasping, her eyes wide with joy and wonder.

She climbed astride and sat down on him and, oh, he was hard and deep inside her. She rode him slowly, then building faster and grinding harder. They never broke their intense gaze, and it was beautiful.

They made love all night and Jill lost count of how many times she came. She’d never imagined sex could be so wonderful, so magical, so all embracing and exquisite.
They lay together and watched dawn wash the shadows away, and she knew they would be together forever.

Once again, thank you to the author of the following piece. It takes a lot of courage to allow your work to be publicly critiqued; I hope you think my comments are helpful, as they are intended to be.

There are some technical issues with this piece, I won’t lie. In particular there seems to be an aversion to the use of the comma (which really is a very helpful little piece of punctuation) and some confusion regarding dialogue tags. I’m also seeing a lot of that same sentence structure we noticed in yesterday’s piece, the “Kicking the ball, he ran down the street” sort of construction which I dislike. It often feels sing-songy, which is an issue, but the biggest one is that this structure indicates simultaneous movement, even when the words themselves do not. An example I’ve seen used elsewhere is “Closing the door, she made a cup of coffee.” On the surface it sounds okay, but how did closing the door make a cup of coffee? How did she make coffee while closing the door? It’s simply not a polished sentence structure, and we’re all about polish here.

Now the writer indicated this piece is YA, which is why it’s more of a kissing scene than an actual sex scene. But that’s okay, because the emotions/conflict-as-physical-acts is the same, really.

Her heart started to beat faster as he brushed his lips against her neck then her lips. Slowly he pressed his lips against hers gently kissing her. Lips, lips, lips. Try to avoid using the same word so many times—it jumps out at the reader and makes the piece feel awkward. Also, when you say “slowly he pressed his lips against hers”, not only have you just told us that in the previous sentence, you’re also telling us that he’s gently kissing her. So in those first three sentences you’ve told us three times that he’s kissing her. I’d leave the first sentence—add some more tingles and stuff from her; she’s a teenager, is this her first kiss? How does it feel when his lips brush her neck?—and then skip the second entirely. When she responded with a slight “mmm” he parted her lips, brushing his tongue against her teeth until they also opened. He brushed his tongue against her teeth? This is the sort of thing I often see in books; to be frank, it sends a shiver of Yuck up my spine every time. Perhaps there are people who like this, in which case this is simply a quirk of mine, but in my opinion tongues do not belong in the crannies between my teeth or on my lips (I had a boyfriend once who insisted on running the tip of his tongue over my lips. God I hated that. He thought it was sexy. He was incorrect.) And he brushed his tongue against her teeth until they opened? If I picture this in my head, exactly as you’ve described it, the image I get is of his lips now an inch or so away from hers while he uses his tongue like a paintbrush over her teeth. Very Mr. Myagi. I get what you’re saying here, I do. And like I said, I’ve seen a LOT of erotic romance and romance where people use their tongues in this manner, so clearly there are some people who like it or whom it doesn’t bother. But if everyone else jumped off a bridge, would you? Also, rather than telling us what sound she made, I’d just have her gasp or moan or make a small sound in her throat. It’s one of the few instances where telling is better than showing, because spelling out sound effects almost never works for me. Again, though, that’s just me. Pulling her body tighter against his, he explored her mouth. “Pulling her body tighter against his” is a bit telly (and there’s that structure again). How about something like, “His fingers dugs into her hips as he pulled her closer, pressing her against the solid heat of his body while he explored her mouth”? Or “He explored her mouth, slowly, carefully, and she pressed herself closer to him, desperate for more”? That sort of thing. Calloused hands pushed under her T-shirt trailing up her spine, feeling as though little arcs of electricity emitted from his fingertips. What exactly is feeling those little arcs of electricity? Because the subject of this sentence are those calloused hands. There should be a comma after t-shirt, as well; but the first half of the sentence is pretty good. Nice use of “calloused” to indicate not only what the hands are doing but what they feel like on her skin. Angling his body against hers he pushed himself against her. Did he push, or did he angle? And he’s already pulled her close, so we don’t really need this. I think what you’re trying to indicate here is the kiss is deepening, so say that. “The kiss deepened. His hips pressed against hers, impossibly close, so close she thought she might physically sink into him”, something like that? See how that moves us deeper into her POV and gives us a sense of the desperation she’s feeling? Jill pulled tightly at his shoulders as she felt the length of him hard against her stomach. She wanted him, so bad it she felt as if she was on fire. From the tips of her toes all the way to her mouth her body felt as if it would consume itself. The last sentence there is a tad awkward, but not bad. The others are the same (it’s all the “felt”s; try to reconstruct the sentences to get rid of those, because it puts the reader at a distance). I’m not crazy about “pulled tightly” at his shoulders; grasped his shoulders or clutched or clung to his shoulders/him might be a bit smoother. The imagery works fine, though. My only other concern is her wanting him, but that’s simply because I don’t know how sexually aware or experienced she is. I know from what you said that she’s an older teen, so this could work if there’s an indication elsewhere that she has some sexual experience, but I don’t generally think of virgins as wanting someone right off the bat. They’d be more likely to want more of what they’re feeling, do you know what I mean? Again, it depends on her level of experience, so it’s not necessarily wrong, I’m just mentioning it here because it’s a good place to bring it up, not because it necessarily has to do with this piece.

Jack knew this was dangerous but in the moment he didn’t care, whatever the consequences they would be dealt with in time. POV switch! It’s not badly done, but as this bit ends in her POV this switch is unecessary. I’m critting it anyway though. Lose “in the moment”; you could say “at that moment” but you could just remove it. Also, something more like “If there were consequences he’d deal with them later.” This girl was so fragile she needed him and his protection. At least that’s what he would tell himself. Very nice. A bit of character, a sense of how much he wants her, how he sees her, what his feelings are. “At least that’s what he told himself” would probably work better tense-wise. Slipping his hand inside the cup of her bra, he lifted it up to expose hard nipples. Rubbing his thumb over them made Jill feel like she was going to fall, legs becoming jelly. Awkward POV switch! On a technical level the switch to Jack’s POV was okay, but this one doesn’t work. We also have that structure again. You have several options here; you could simply go with “He slipped his hand under the soft, satiny cup of her bra, almost moaning out loud when her hard nipple brushed his palm” or something like “He slid his hand around her ribcage, feeling her heart pounding beneath the soft skin, the delicate bones. All the way around, and up, easing their way under the band of her cotton bra and further up still, until he trapped her hard nipple between his fingers” or “under his palm”. Also, this is an excellent opportunity to really turn him on; what does he feel when he finds that hard nipple? How does she react, and how does he experience that reaction (an important point)? Does finding her hard nipple excite him, make him feel powerful? Proud? Is it the first confirmation he gets that she wants this too, and that’s tremendously exciting? Does he feel her shake, feel her gasp into his mouth (which would be written simply as “She gasped” or “Her gasp of surprised pleasure sent a shiver through him” or something similar)? In the next line he starts pulling up her shirt; what is he thinking? Is he thinking at all? Is he desperate to see her bare chest? All that should go here, when he feels her nipple; we should see from his reaction and POV that he wants to take this further. Is dying to take this further.

When Jack started to pull Jill’s shirt up over her shoulders, an explosive bang came from the entryway. This isn’t bad, but I’m not crazy about sentences that start with “When” like this. How about “The explosion happened just as he started to pull up her shirt” or “He’d just started pulling her shirt up when the explosion happened/when something exploded/when the sound of an explosion reverberated through the corridor”? And whose POV is this in?

Jack jumped from Jill with so much speed she lost her balance falling backwards on to the hardwood floor. Jack jumped back from Jill, sending her tumbling to the hardwood floor. They both jumped. Jill fell backward, hitting the hardwood floor with a painful thud or with a thud that made Jack wince. Jack jumping like that, and her falling, and him not helping her up, makes him seem kind of jerky.

She turned to see Bob in the hallway with a mix of anger and fear on his face. POV Switch! I’d like a comma after hallway, too; then you can get rid of “with”. Also, what does that mix look like? Don’t tell us, show us; is Bob gripping the doorway with white knuckles? Are his eyes wide, his jaw set, his face red? Are his lips curled in a snarl or sneer? Is he staring at her in such a way that she feels small, dirty? Does his face look angry but the feeling she gets from him is pure fear? Does he look like he’s about to have a heart attack, with his open mouth and staring eyes?

Slowly shaking his head as if he was afraid for own safety he whispered “no hot water”. Punctuation goes inside quotes. I don’t get the “hot water” thing but I assume it’s explained elsewhere. Shaking his head as if afraid for his own safety? What does that look like? Is he shaking his head in disbelief, putting his hands in front of him as if denying what he sees?

He took a step forward and breathed into the air “Master you must not.” “Breathed into the air” is melodramatic and unnecessary. Comma needed after “air” and after “Master.” You don’t actually need a tag here at all: He took a step forward/He took a single step toward them/He moved as if to step forward, then stopped himself. “Master, you must not.”

Turning from Bob to Jack she saw utter confusion on his face, his eyes were dilated to reveal huge black pupils. Jill turned from Bob to Jack. His expression was utterly confused/Jack’s eyes were nothing but huge black pupils, hard against the whites/Jill turned from Bob to Jack. The utter confusion on his face, the stark black holes of his pupils, made her heart skip a beat/Jill turned to Jack, looking for some explanation, but the blackness of his eyes, so wide and confused in his face, stopped her cold. That sort of thing.

“I am so sorry, please excuse me,” he said not looking at her as he disappeared down the hallway, Bob close behind. Commas needed if you’re going to keep this as is, but I don’t recommend it. We can make it much more descriptive and add some polish in a few ways: “…excuse me,” he said, but he didn’t look at her. What had she done wrong? She opened her mouth to ask, but he’d already left her, striding down the hallway with Bob at his heels/”…me.” He didn’t look at her as he spoke, didn’t look at her as he and Bob walked away, leaving her alone in more ways than one/”…me.” She tried to speak, to tell him he had nothing to apologize for, when she realized he wasn’t apologizing for the kiss. He was apologizing for walking away from her, leaving her alone on the floor with her heart pounding and her lips still tingling. Remember, they were having a pretty passionate moment there; she would still be feeling some kind of aftereffect of that, most likely, and it lends the scene cohesiveness to mention those aftereffects.

The bathroom door slammed with such force Jill was sure he would tear it from his hinges. …with such force Jill expected it to tear from its hinges. The door is the subject of this sentence, not Jack. She sat on the floor replaying what just happened when she heard someone approaching. Awkwardly she straightened her clothes as she stood up, turning to see Bob standing in the entryway. She sat on the floor, totally confused. What just happened? What had she done wrong? She shivered, and realized her shirt was still bunched up over her bra. Nice. At least she was alone, he wasn’t standing there watching… Except of course he was, right in the entryway, the disapproval in his gaze making her skin burn in a totally different way than it had a few minutes before. In Jack’s arms/The way Jack made it burn. Now that’s my voice, not yours, but you see the point. You can expand all of this. Let us see what she’s thinking. Let us feel her embarrassment, cringe with her when she realizes she’s showing this disapproving old guy her bra. It’s such a good contrast with the total lusty acceptance she got a few minutes before; use it to its full effect!

“Come I will take you to the guest room” he said with absolutely no emotion his voice or friendly demeanor. Punctuation belongs inside quotes, and this tag is awkward and unnecessary; you indicate his demeanor in the next sentence. He walked stiffly down the hall sneaking a peak peek at the bathroom as if it would explode any moment. Nice simile there. She couldn’t figure out why he was angry so she quietly followed behind him. As a means of reassuring herself she rubbed the garnet ring on her left finger. It made her relax, the ring lulling her into a false sense of security. Also, you don’t really need to tell us here that she couldn’t figure out why he was angry, because you should have already shown us her confusion. Nice bit of business with the ring, but again, it can be streamlined: She followed him, rubbing the garnet ring on her left ring finger to reassure herself or rubbing the garnet ring on her left ring finger. Its smooth surface soothed her, lulled her into a false sense of security.

Bob scowled at her as he looked down towards the ring. “Don’t,” he pleaded. He scowled and pleaded? One or the other please. Bob looked down at her hands, saw her twisting the ring or Bob saw her twisting the ring. He scowled. “Don’t.” She hid her hands behind her back as she entered the guest room. Rich woods and bright colors filled the room. Nice bit of description; brief yet effective. Jill wondered if she was still in the same home as it felt like she suddenly she had been transported to a completely different location. “For a second she wondered if this was even the same house, the room was so warm and welcoming.” When she wonders if she’s still in the same house, we understand that that means she feels like she’d been transported to a completely different location. The closing of the door jarred her back to reality, what the hell had just happened? The bang of the door as it closed/slammed shut/The bang of the door slamming shut/The echoing thud of the door slamming shut brought her back to reality. What the hell had just happened?

As a few commenters have pointed out on Blogger and Livejournal both, there’s plenty of interest and intrigue here. Who or what exactly is Jack? Why is Bob such a dick? Why is the ring comforting? Where are they? What kind of place is it, when an explosion causes such a blase sort of reaction? What was Jack apologizing for? So in that sense this is very successful; it simply needs some work on the technical aspects.

Okay, folks. Here’s our second scene. Just a note on this one–technically it’s not a sex scene, it’s a kissing scene, but as the writer of this piece has indicated it’s a YA project, and as kissing still counts as sexual interaction, we’re going to go for it.

All names have been changed.

Her heart started to beat faster as he brushed his lips against her neck then her lips. Slowly he pressed his lips against hers gently kissing her. When she responded with a slight “mmm” he parted her lips, brushing his tongue against her teeth until they also opened. Pulling her body tighter against his, he explored her mouth. Calloused hands pushed under her T-shirt trailing up her spine, feeling as though little arcs of electricity emitted from his fingertips. Angling his body against hers he pushed himself against her. Jill pulled tightly at his shoulders as she felt the length of him hard against her stomach. She wanted him, so bad it she felt as if she was on fire. From the tips of her toes all the way to her mouth her body felt as if it would consume itself.

Jack knew this was dangerous but in the moment he didn’t care, whatever the consequences they would be dealt with in time. This girl was so fragile she needed him and his protection. At least that what he would tell himself. Slipping his hand inside the cup of her bra, he lifted it up to expose hard nipples. Rubbing his thumb over them made Jill feel like she was going to fall, legs becoming jelly.

When Jack started to pull Jill’s shirt up over her shoulders, an explosive bang came from the entryway.

Jack jumped from Jill with so much speed she lost her balance falling backwards on to the hardwood floor.

She turned to see Bob in the hallway with a mix of anger and fear on his face. Slowly shaking his head as if he was afraid for own safety he whispered” no hot water”.

He took a step forward and breathed into the air “master you must not.”

Turning from Bob to Jack she saw utter confusion on his face, his eyes were dilated to reveal huge black pupils.

“I am so sorry, please excuse me,” he said not looking at her as he disappeared down the hallway, Bob close behind. The bathroom door slammed with such force Jill was sure he would tear it from his hinges. She sat on the floor replaying what just happened when she heard someone approaching. Awkwardly she straightened her clothes as she stood up, turning to see Bob standing in the entryway.

“Come I will take you to the guest room” he said with absolutely no emotion his voice or friendly demeanor. He walked stiffly down the hall sneaking a peak at the bathroom as if it would explode any moment. She couldn’t figure out why he was angry so she quietly followed behind him. As a means of reassuring herself she rubbed the garnet ring on her left finger. It made her relax, the ring lulling her into a false sense of security.

Bob scowled at her as he looked down towards the ring. “Don’t,” he pleaded. She hid her hands behind her back as she entered the guest room. Rich woods and bright colors filled the room. Jill wondered if she was still in the same home as it felt like she suddenly she had been transported to a completely different location. The closing of the door jarred her back to reality, what the hell had just happened?

First, I want to say a big, HUGE thank-you to the author of this piece (and all of those who submitted. It’s never easy to have your work picked apart by a bunch of strangers; you’re very brave to do this in order to help others, and I really, really appreciate it. I hope my comments aren’t too harsh, and that they prove helpful to you, as that’s the whole point. Please keep in mind this is only MY opinion. Don’t make any changes you’re not comfortable with, and if you feel something isn’t helpful or doesn’t work for you, ignore it. In a few places I’ve suggested some rewordings; feel free to ignore those, too, they’re just suggestions.

First a few general comments. The writing here isn’t bad at all on a technical level, although I’m not a fan of the “Doing a thing, he then did the thing” structure, and the scenario is fairly interesting. But I feel disconnected here; I’m getting some physical action, but there’s very little sense of how these people feel physically or emotionally. I don’t feel like I’m experiencing this with the characters, I feel like I’m watching it from a distance, like I’m watching them through a telephoto lens as they race through the sex act. I know I had a word limit, so you might have deleted some things, but on the whole this just skims the surface; it could be much, much longer.

He stretched my arms over my head and yanked my tunic off. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he brought up one hand to fondle my breast, massaging it, running the flat of his hand lightly over my firm nipple, then tugging on it until I arched my back. He lowered his head and took the other nipple in his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue.

But how does that all feel? When he yanks off her tunic, does she feel air hit her skin? Do her already-hard nipples (hard, not firm) grow even harder? Painfully hard? Is his hand warm or hot on her skin? How about his breath?

I’m not crazy about the sentence beginning with “A smile”. “Hand” is used in it twice; instead of “the flat of his hand” why not use palm? How about instead of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he brings up his hand, his lips twitch?
Everything he’s doing to her should evoke some sensation, but we’re not getting that here. The only indication that she even likes what he’s doing is her back arches. Why does she arch her back? Does it arch on its own? How about something like:
I watched his eyes as they scanned my body, trailing heat the way his hand did when he stroked my breast, sliding his palm over my tight, hard nipple before tugging it gently with hot fingers. I gasped. It had been so long, I’d wanted him for so long. Now it was happening and I could barely think, could barely do anything but feel. My back arched, my body taking over, begging him to pull my nipple into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth and responding with a shudder when he did.

I held his head, entwining my fingers in his thick hair. How does that hair feel? Soft, slippery? Does it smell like cut grass or smoke or musk? Is she holding his head gently or pulling him closer, forcing his head onto her breast, begging him not to stop? My groin ached from wanting him so badly. What else does it do, just ache? Is it swollen? Can she feel wetness against her panties/pants? Can she feel pressure building between her legs? I rocked my hips against his and he groaned. Does she feel his erection when she rocks her hips up? Is it hard under his pants, does it radiate heat through the fabric? Is she dying to see it, touch it? Moving my hands to his pants once more, I tugged on them, but Jack grabbed my wrists, pinning them over my head as he once again found my mouth. I’m not crazy about this sentence. I see you don’t want to start another sentence with “I” but how about starting with his pants? “The ties holding his pants shut teased my fingers, just out of reach, but when I finally caught one he grabbed my wrists…” Or “My fingers found the soft skin/hair/whatever or his abdomen, found the ties holding his pants, but he grabbed my wrists…” After kissing me ravenously, he moved his lips to my neck then my breasts, then my abdomen, at last running his tongue under the edge of my pants. How does that feel? Does she want his mouth everywhere on her body? Does her skin leap to his touch? Is he making her so hot she realizes she’s moaning? Writhing? Is he just kissing, or is he nibbling too, scraping his teeth on her delicate skin, letting his tongue play over her collarbones? Is he turning her to jelly, is she losing herself to blinding need?

Plus I do dislike the word “groin”; I usually use “pelvis” (personal choice, of course). I like the way you show us her desperation a bit more here, tugging on his pants. I also like Jack pinning her hands over her head, but I’m a little confused as to how he does that when his mouth is at her waistband?
I also feel “kissed me ravenously” is a bit awkward.

He had made it clear he didn’t want me to take off his pants quite yet, but I hoped an invitation to remove mine would not be ignored. This is a little clinical. How about, “He wouldn’t let me take his pants off, but hopefully he’d let me take off my own” or “maybe he’d take off mine”? Something along those lines. Bracing my feet, I lifted my hips off the bed. Much as I dislike a lot of dialogue, this could be a good place to put some in. Just a simple “Take my pants off” would be nice from her here. He reached under and placed his hands firmly on my ass, squeezing it, as he used his teeth to untie the leather strip holding my breeches closed. How about “He used his teeth. His strong hands cupped my ass, holding it up, squeezing it, and he grabbed the leather strip holding my breeches closed in his teeth and tugged until it came free”? Also, how about mentioning his broad shoulders stretching her thighs apart, or something similar? Something to put us in the scene, to get the sense that there are whole bodies involved, not just whatever part is being mentioned at the time.

Just feeling the heat of his breath through the leather was almost enough to push me over the edge. The heat of his breath through the leather almost pushed me over the edge, or was almost enough to push me over the edge.

Once he had finished, his hands moved inside the pants and slid them over my rear and down my legs, as Jack followed their path closely with his mouth. His long, strong fingers slipped beneath the waistband, slid over my rear and down my legs, pushing the pants before them, until I was completely bare, exposed to him. I watched him from beneath heavy eyelids as she finished removing them, then slid his hands back up my thighs, to my waist, following the movement with his hungry mouth. Again, give us more, give us something to picture, show us what she’s thinking and feeling.When they were off, he reversed the course of both his hands and lips until they had both returned to my waist. Dipping his head between my legs, his tongue found my clitoris, flicking at it playfully. He nibbled the tops of my thighs, kissed the place where they met my hips. A second heart beat between my legs, I couldn’t breath, couldn’t think anything but please, please, please… I watched his head dip between my legs and saw no more, because his tongue found my clit. I don’t think “playfully” really works here; they’re not joking around, you know? They’re having some fairly serious sex, and he’s being nicely dominant. So to suddenly be playful feels a little off.

I gripped the rough wood of the bed frame and bit my lip to keep from crying out. The rough wood of the bed frame dug into my palms. A cry tried to escape from between my tight-pressed lips.

His hands squeezed my ass as his tongue delved into the cleft between my legs, exploring me, teasing me, tasting every inch of me. He explored every inch of me with his mouth and tongue. When I thought I couldn’t handle any more, he slowly trailed kisses up my belly until he found my breasts and gently kissed each firm nipple So did she come, or what? It’s kind of lousy of him to pull away when she’s just about to, IMO, but it can work if he gives her a deadly smile, or says something like “Not yet. Not until I’m inside you” or whatever. The gentle touch sent shivers down my spine. Playing his fingers across my stomach, he kissed me passionately. See, there’s that structure again; it feels sing-songy. How about something like: My breath came faster, faster still. Sweat broke out on my body, I could feel pressure building, my muscles tightening, my thighs shaking. Not just from Jack’s tongue, but from the knowledge that it was Jack, that he was really there, we were really doing this, and just when I thought I couldn’t handle any more, just when I was about to explode, he stopped. His lips touched my belly, blazed a trail of heat over my heaving ribs, over my firm breasts and hard nipples. So gentle, so delicate. I shivered, opened my mouth to say something, but he covered it with his own, explored it with the same thorough passion as he had the rest of me.

I tried for his pants again, but he stopped my hands. “Please, Jack,” I begged.

“Are you certain you want this, Jill?” The look in his blue eyes was full of pain, as if he expected me to say no. But why? He hasn’t been at all hesitant throughout the rest of the scene, so why is he doubting now? Doubt is nice, but I would expect to see a hint of it earlier in the scene. Also, I would try something like: Doubt flashed in his eyes, doubt and pain. Did he really think I was going to say no?/After all that, he still thought I might say no. My heart ached for him. My body ached for a different reason.

My fingers traced the line of his jaw, How does that feel? Is his jaw hard? Stubbly? Soft? and he turned his head, kissing the palm of my hand. I closed my eyes, allowing the sensation to tingle all the way down my arm. When I opened them again, I locked gazes with him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more certain of anything.” I closed my eyes or my eyes shut, reveling in the sensation tingling up my arm and out through the rest of my body. When I opened them again he was watching me. Tension made the silence loud. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more certain of anything,” I said, and locked gazes with him so he knew I meant it.

At last he stood and let me untie his pants and push them past his hips. His thick hard cock stood ready and willing. My mouth went dry, maybe, or something? I’d like a little more about his cock here. Cock is the main event, really, so when we first get a mention of it we want it to count. Maybe it sprang free from his pants, or brust from them, or something? I started to kneel, wanting to taste him as he had me, but Jack pulled me up. Stopped me, his hands hard on my arms? “It has been too long for me, Jill; I will not last through that.” Where would she kneel? Isn’t she on a bed? How low is the bed?

Sadly, I ran my palm along the tight smooth skin of his shaft and watched him tremble. Be nice to have something here about said shaft; big? Beautiful? A teardrop of clear fluid at the tip? How about his balls? Heavy, virile, hairy? She’s looking at him naked; let us look too! As he lowered me to the bed, I whispered, “Maybe next time.”

A sexy, knowing, very male smile crossed his face then, totally at odds with the words he spoke, Should be a period not a comma “If you would do me the honor of a next time.” How did that smile make her feel? Did it send a shiver of very female pleasure through her? Did it remind her what a big swingin’ MAN he is? Did the smile promise her something?

Without waiting for a response, he pressed his lips to mine and slid his hard length inside me. Filling me. Making me feel as if I couldn’t breathe. This would be a good place to mention how the entire length of his naked body is against hers too, and how that feels. The bit about feeling like she can’t breathe is nice, but it would be great if you detailed it a little more: “…like I couldn’t breathe, like my lungs were too full of pleasure to get any air”. Which is hokey but you see what I mean. I sometimes have the heroine so focused on that it takes her a second to start really feeling his thrusts, something like that, because “He pulled back and re-entered me” is a little awkward. He pulled back and re-entered me with long gentle strokes. I arched my back and his hand found my nipple, rolling it between his fingers. And he thought he wouldn’t last. His teeth scraped along my lip and I moaned in pleasure and longing. “Please… please…” I murmured into his mouth. Okay. Now they’re really having sex! How does it feel? Is she stunned, amazed? Can she feel every inch of his big cock stretching her? Pressure building? Heat and friction? Can she feel his hot breath on her skin, how is her breathing? Does his face look peaceful, absorbed? Are his eyes closed or open? Did he gasp or make any sound when he entered her? How about now? Is she stroking his strong shoulders or back, letting her hands roam over his warm bare skin? We should be experiencing some *very* intense emotions and sensations here; this definitely needs expansion.

He must have heard me. Either that or he felt the need for release as strongly as I did. His thrusts quickened and his kisses became rougher and more feral. His thrusts quickened, each quick, hard stroking sending me higher and higher. His kisses grew rougher, more feral, our tongues dancing together, his lips taking mine again and again as we strained and fought to reach the peak together.

My hands gripped his buttocks, bottom? Ass? Behind? fingernails digging into his skin as he pushed me closer and closer to the edge. When I was certain I couldn’t contain myself any longer, Just as I hit the edge, he growled against my lips and gave one final deep thrust. Together we exploded in ecstasy. Are they silent? Still? Shaking? Crying out into each others’s mouths? What does exploding in ecstasy feel like? Are they clinging to each other while their mutual orgasm rolls over them, crushed them under its glorious weight, leaves them shaking and shaken, together on the rumpled sheets? This just seems so abrupt; it feels like they only had sex or a minute or so and then came and they’re done. Then, exhausted, trembling, limbs entwined, we held each other as if afraid the other would disappear if we let go.

Smiling gently at Jack, I saw an aura around us of writhing colors shot through with sparks of bright, almost blinding light. As I closed my eyes and snuggled tighter into Jack’s embrace, I realized Bob had been right. An aura of writhing colors embraced us. Jack’s face stood out from it, illuminated by sparks of bright, blinding light. I closed my eyes and snuggled tighter into his embrace, reveling in the feel of his body next to mine. Bob was right/had been right. What Jack and I had was a different sort of magic entirely. GREAT last line.

Okay, today is our first crit!

So here we go…have fun!

He stretched my arms over my head and yanked my tunic off. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he brought up one hand to fondle my breast, massaging it, running the flat of his hand lightly over my firm nipple, then tugging on it until I arched my back. He lowered his head and took the other nipple in his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue.

I held his head, entwining my fingers in his thick hair. My groin ached from wanting him so badly. I rocked my hips against his and he groaned. Moving my hands to his pants once more, I tugged on them, but Jack grabbed my wrists, pinning them over my head as he once again found my mouth. After kissing me ravenously, he moved his lips to my neck then my breasts, then my abdomen, at last running his tongue under the edge of my pants.

He had made it clear he didn’t want me to take off his pants quite yet, but I hoped an invitation to remove mine would not be ignored. Bracing my feet, I lifted my hips off the bed. He reached under and placed his hands firmly on my ass, squeezing it, as he used his teeth to untie the leather strip holding my breeches closed.

Just feeling the heat of his breath through the leather was almost enough to push me over the edge.

Once he had finished, his hands moved inside the pants and slid them over my rear and down my legs, as Jack followed their path closely with his mouth. When they were off, he reversed the course of both his hands and lips until they had both returned to my waist. Dipping his head between my legs, his tongue found my clitoris, flicking at it playfully.

I gripped the rough wood of the bed frame and bit my lip to keep from crying out.

His hands squeezed my ass as his tongue delved into the cleft between my legs. He explored every inch of me with his mouth and tongue. When I thought I couldn’t handle any more, he slowly trailed kisses up my belly until he found my breasts and gently kissed each firm nipple. The gentle touch sent shivers down my spine. Playing his fingers across my stomach, he kissed me passionately.

I tried for his pants again, but he stopped my hands. “Please, Jack,” I begged.

“Are you certain you want this, Jill?” The look in his blue eyes was full of pain, as if he expected me to say no.

My fingers traced the line of his jaw, and he turned his head, kissing the palm of my hand. I closed my eyes, allowing the sensation to tingle all the way down my arm. When I opened them again, I locked gazes with him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more certain of anything.”

At last he stood and let me untie his pants and push them past his hips. His thick hard cock stood ready and willing. I started to kneel, wanting to taste him as he had me, but Jack pulled me up. “It has been too long for me, Jill; I will not last through that.”

Sadly, I ran my palm along the tight smooth skin of his shaft and watched him tremble. As he lowered me to the bed, I whispered, “Maybe next time.”

A sexy, knowing, very male smile crossed his face then, totally at odds with the words he spoke, “If you would do me the honor of a next time.”

Without waiting for a response, he pressed his lips to mine and slid his hard length inside me. Filling me. Making me feel as if I couldn’t breathe. He pulled back and re-entered me with long gentle strokes. I arched my back and his hand found my nipple, rolling it between his fingers. And he thought he wouldn’t last. His teeth scraped along my lip and I moaned in pleasure and longing. “Please… please…” I murmured into his mouth.

He must have heard me. Either that or he felt the need for release as strongly as I did. His thrusts quickened and his kisses became rougher and more feral.

My hands gripped his buttocks, fingernails digging into his skin as he pushed me closer and closer to the edge. When I was certain I couldn’t contain myself any longer, he growled against my lips and gave one final deep thrust. Together we exploded in ecstasy. Then, exhausted, trembling, limbs entwined, we held each other as if afraid the other would disappear if we let go.

Smiling gently at Jack, I saw an aura around us of writhing colors shot through with sparks of bright, almost blinding light. As I closed my eyes and snuggled tighter into Jack’s embrace, I realized Bob had been right. What Jack and I had was a different sort of magic entirely.