Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.
Yes, here is Part II of my flash scene from last week, Zoronado, Black Stallion Shapeshifter.
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Plastic rapier in hand, she approached the door.
Sharla knew it was silly. In a way. Her endless erotic fantasies about Zorro.
But why not indulge herself? Finally.
She'd been assured her Zorro fantasy could be fulfilled.
Why not give herself the birthday gift she really and truly wanted? After all, the Pleasure Club was for experiencing and exploring sexual pleasure in a safe environment.
Besides, temptation shouted her name. Repeatedly. And, with an intensity Sharla could no longer resist.
Okay, truth, she'd never come or 'come' close to doing anything like this before.
Oh, she'd tried to analyze why and get over it. At least, limit how often the masked swashbuckler all in black demanded she surrender to his desires in the most passionate and hedonistic of ways. Then become his forever.
Right on time, Sharla heard the sounds of vigorous swordplay in the hallway of the Pleasure Club. Plastic rapier in hand, she approached the door.
Excitement seized her to the point Sharla felt lightheaded, causing her to fumble with the handle as she cracked the door. She peeked out, and almost didn't believe her eyes.
Zorro. Life size. In the hallway dashingly dispatching an enemy with the swift and precise play of his rapier.
Be still her heart, his footwork was more than impressive. Where in the world had the staff found this man?
"Halt! You scoundrels." Sharla stepped into the hallway brandishing her plastic replica. "How dare you interrupt a lady's slumber."
"Only a moment, lovely woman. Then I will attend to your need for slumber."
Zorro spoke without lessening the aggressiveness of his attack. After a series of thrusts faster than her eye could follow, her fantasy Zorro flicked away his foe's sword. The point of his rapier pressed against the hollow of the Old California soldier's throat.
"Be gone with you, left-footed fool. If I find you in my presence once again, your blood will water the ground."
"Yes," the actor gurgled out.
With swashbuckling elegance, her Zorro removed the point of his rapier, and stepped back several paces. Clutching his throat the man pretended to scurry away.
However, Sharla caught the slight grin on his face and the roguish light in his eyes. Still, a gal could pretend it was all real, couldn't she?
Imitating Catherine Zeta-Jones in the 1998 movie, The Mask of Zorro, Sharla presented her blade. "You will leave immediately, coward behind the mask. Or I shall best you, then relish how your manhood suffers at my skill."
****
Zoronado knew he indeed was in danger of being bested by the beautiful woman who weakened his arm while strengthening the blade of his loins. Long dark curls, that looked to be tinted by the reddish rays of sunrise, framed a face the angels no doubt praised in song.
Most certainly, he would praise both her face and shapely figure in song. A delight to his carnal senses, her bosom was provocatively displayed above the white satin corset.
With a bold eye, Zoronado admired the lovely deep curve of her waist, then the rounded flare of her hips beneath the matching satin bloomers.
"I have promised to assist in your slumber, senorita. I cannot in good conscience abandon you."
Meting out his own challenge, Zoronado crossed the tip of his rapier with hers. She didn't flinch despite the very slight trembling of her hand. He arched a brow beneath his mask at how much he desired her trembling as he pleasured her.
"Your promise is forgiven, masked man. Leave before I must run you through to protect my honor."
Her gaze never departed from his, as though she would truly fight him. Zoronado basked in her high spirit even though they role-played.
"Ah, yes, honor." He flashed a grin. "It is an honor to gaze upon your womanly beauty."
In defiance her chin tilted a bit higher. "You toy with me as if I am a woman you hire for your bed."
How neatly she set the trap. Zoronado longed to engage their blades for an instant or two, then claim her against him. When he'd agreed to this night at the Pleasure Club, curiosity had won out, especially after watching his fantasy heroine during her ballroom dancing lessons.
"The fire in your eyes is quite formidable, senorita. Yet, there is a glint that begs for my lips upon yours."
"More fool you!"
With an expert lunge, she struck his blade to the side. Amused, Zoronado parried with her, merely deflecting her enthusiastic attack.
For fear his real rapier could catch her unaware, he slipped his blade beneath hers, and gave a quick twist of his wrist. Her replica flew from her hand, and clattered to the stone floor.
He lassoed her waist with his arm, and hauled her against his side all while her luscious scent seized his nostrils. Zoronado stared at her impassioned face, her wine-red lips, her half-lidded eyes, the color of ripe Muscadine grapes.
"Unhand me," she spat with some force, even as her body betrayed her.
His fantasy prize clung, melting against him, and he felt her passionate heat through their garments.
"Quite contrary to what I desire. Your slumber is assured, brave senorita, once I have my most wicked way with your womanly flesh."
"Oh," she gasped out, then heaved fast breaths. "You dare ruin my virtue."
"I dare. Although no names have passed our lips, you belong to me."
Stud wild for her -- wild with the feel of her soft breasts crushed against him, Zoronado kicked open the door. Striding swiftly, he carried her within, and tossed his rapier to the side.
From the corner of his eye, he observed the point of the blade embed itself in the period wooden chest. With another well-aimed kick, he closed the door.
"How did... did you... you're like the real..."
Without halting, but halting her words, Zoronado lifted his beautiful woman into his arms. Their gazes merged, and he paused in his steps. "The blade, merely a convergence of celestial forces."
"Again, you toy with me, masked man."
Zoronado smiled. "This night I shall toy with every inch of you, my most lovely senorita."
"Make me faint," she whispered. The tone of her voice suggested she couldn't quite believe her ears.
"If you desire," Zoronado teased and promised. As he carried her toward the canopied enormous bed, she felt like the essence of luxury and lust against him.
"I can't believe you're this strong." Her soft voice and words pleased his ears.
'It's all in the breeding,' he almost spoke aloud. However, now was not the time to tell her about being a stallion shapeshifter.
The moment Zoronado placed her upon the bed, he captured her sweet full mouth beneath his. With his fierce and relentless kiss, he told his fantasy woman how much he wanted to ravish her senseless.
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Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side...
Savanna
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
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4 comments:
Oooheeee, let the ravishing begin!! Zoronado is quite the stallion, indeed. You gotta love a man who can work a blade! :D
Well, I do love a swashbuckling man who can work a blade and ravish a woman with the art of his blade... and so does my heroine, of course.
Yummy ... a courtly rogue with a gleam in his eye and a sword in his hand. The world needs more Zoronados.
And Pleasure Clubs. I need to take a trip to Montana. I've got this fantasy involving angels in trenchcoats ...
The world does need more Zorro/Zoronados, imho.
The Pleasure Club staff is at your service. Here's a title for ya ~ Want an Angel in a Trenchcoat? Or, just ~ Angel In a Trenchcoat.
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