Cassandra Jones and Elan Takoda find themselves entangled via a spiritual triad of matchmakers.
A Sub-genre of Romance - Interracial Paranormal
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Cassandra Jones' nights become filled with realistic exploits of passion with a man she's barely met. It all began the night she dumped her two-timing fiancée and Elan Takoda accused her of a federal offense when she had open a package of peridot gems intended for him. Months later, miserable, and clueless as to how to stop fantasies, she went along with a plan he had to free them both. When it didn't work, what she then learned would bring her both uncertainty and sorrow.
Elan Takoda recognized his grandfather's hand when he began to envision himself with the granddaughter of his friend. He searched for an end to nightly hours of scorching sex, because he wanted no woman in his life. A shaman told him he must spend a night with her and part when morning came to break the ritual. When the opportunity landed in his lap, he convinced her it was the only way to free them. That is, until they learned the rest of the story.
“Let’s go to the bed,” he managed to say. She started to fall when she forgot to lower her leg before attempting to move forward.“In a hurry?” he asked, catching her. He meant to make light of it, but the huskiness of his voice gave a different meaning. The fire raged in him.
“I guess,” she said, righting herself.
She sounded equally as affected. He grabbed the camera, turned off the lights and left her to follow him. He didn’t dare touch her right now. He’d hurt her with the need threatening to erupt. When he flipped on the lights around the bed, he saw her climb on the bed and sit with her legs under her. She ran her hands over the cool satin, her eyes on them. His chest heaved and he raised the camera to capture the innocence of a seductress. Cassandra raised her head and looked through the viewer at him. “What do you want?” she asked with a sultriness, causing shivers to shoot through him.
The camera slipped, but he caught it. He swallowed. “Give me what you’re comfortable with.” Under normal circumstances, he knew beforehand what the client wanted, but this wasn’t a client. Shudders swept through him when she leaned back on her elbows, bringing her legs forward. The glimpse of the green thong she’d left on had his zipper pressing into hard flesh.
He wanted shots of her with her hand splayed over the scrap of green, the ring, the bracelet, maybe a finger slipped beneath the band as if she was thinking of removing them. Images raced through his mind. Heat broiled in his gut and more sweat beaded on his forehead.
She rubbed the soft sole of her foot against her ankle as she shook her hair back behind her. He reached for a softener lens and snapped it on the camera as she moaned.
“Do you feel it?’ she asked him.
“What do you feel?”
“I’m not sure. It’s like…It’s stronger than before.”
She ran her fingers through her hair as he forced himself to watch via the viewfinder. The air thickened around them, heavy, breathless air filled with monumental tension. He wanted to rip the sheet from her body and give a warrior cry as he joined with her body.
“I’ve awakened from these bizarre dreams…feeling like I’ve had hot…sweaty sex.” Her tongue ran over lips and she blew out while her breasts heaved. “Now, it’s like…intense foreplay.”
“The psyche factor,” he told her as he moved around the bed. She fell back on the pillow and the look on her face combined with her heaving breasts caused him to lower the camera. Color came into her cheeks and spread, her hips rose and her heel dug into the bed. He forced himself to continue taking shots, but the sounds of the camera no longer played a song for him. He’d never seen anyone come alive as she was. She groaned and balled the bedding in her hands. Her eyes closed and he forced down a moan and tried to tune out the raging fire within himself.
“So hot…wonderfully hot,” she whispered as her back arched, tipping her head back.
She reached for the knot lying in her cleavage and undid it, tossing the fabric aside. Perspiration rolled down his chest from the effort of trying to hold himself back. Her beautiful, perfect breasts lay before him, the tips hard and begging to be touched. He backed up and picked up the remote to the hidden cameras he used for couples who wanted full range shots with privacy. What was happening before him needed recorded, even if it was in stills. She was consumed with the same fiery passion he’d been dealing with.
“More, I need more,” she mumbled.