Sunday Snog with all the Colours of the Night by Victoria Blisse.

I’m in the rather weird position of not being able to work out what snog to share with you. We’re up to 61 Sunday Snogs and that doesn’t included the Blisse Kiss events and I’ve posted a kiss on every single one. Even with as many stories as I’ve got behind me I’m going to run out of kisses sooner or later. I think today might be it. I don’t think I’ve exhausted every single kiss, but I’m close. So I’m going to share a piece of flash fiction I wrote with you today because I’ve got to snog, it’s Sunday!

colour of the night

The Colour of Night by Victoria Blisse

Dear Journal,

I have something very interesting to write to you about. Last night I couldn’t sleep so I took you, a candle and a pen out into the garden. I got caught up in the colours of the dark so didn’t write a word.

I felt safe. I was in my own garden with the huge bushes that surround it and I had my mobile phone in my pocket just in case. I was not at all prepared therefore for the visit of a man. He didn’t arrive subtly cloaked in shadows he strode purposefully into the light directly in front of me. I scrabbled to my feet, the flight or fight instinct had already kicked in.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my garden?” I asked in a commanding voice. Least that’s what it sounded like in my head. In the air it sounded more like the squeaking hinges of a rusty gate.

“I am me,” he said, quite matter of factly. “I was passing and I saw you.”

“Well, carry on passing, this is private property.” He took a step towards me. I pulled my phone from my pocket and waved it in front of him. ”I’ll ring the police!” I threatened but before I could get the device to my ear he’d snatched it and threw it to the ground. Journal, I did internally berate myself for being so stupid at that point. I also thought I was about to die.

“You smell so sweet.” His voice was husky and vibrant. Although I was feared half to death I couldn’t help but feel the frisson of excitement rise up my spine in response to his words and his encroachment on my personal space. I couldn’t step back, a tree was there. I couldn’t dart around him because, well you know I’m not made to dart. I’m made for comfort, not speed.

“You’re not allowed here,” I did at least attempt to keep my nerve to the end, journal, I did try to be brave. He took no notice of me and continued to walk closer until his chest touched mine.

“And you feel so soft,” his tone was like melted chocolate, tempting, alluring and oh so bad for me. I felt as if I was under a spell, as if he hypnotised me. My limbs were heavy, my heart pounded but I couldn’t move no matter how much I thought about escape. I know you want to know what he looked like, so do I in fact. I’m pretty certain he was tall and willowy and that he was muscled in that subtle way that screams of real work, not gym-puffed exercise. But I didn’t see his face. He was surrounded by shadows as if he carried them with him as a shield.

His lips felt plump and juicy but they were cold and it took some kissing for them to even warm slightly. Yes, dear journal, he kissed me and I let him. I don’t know why, I cannot explain why in any way that makes sense. I just had to let him kiss me. His hand held the top of my arm, he pushed his lithe, magnificent body against me and as soon as his lips touched mine my mind went blank.

My heart beat hard and fast but it was fueled by lust not fear. His hands travelled over my curves and I eagerly pushed myself into his embrace. His fingers squeezed my plump breasts through the thin barrier of my t-shirt and plain everyday kind of bra. His fingers slid down my side, over my hip and into the waistband of my trousers. Yes, I should have stopped him. I should have slapped the dangerous stranger who was assaulting me but I didn’t want to. I enjoyed it. My blood burned with a need so visceral and I moaned when he found my sticky wet slit. I gasped with unabashed joy when he rubbed my clit. A stranger, a man I’ve never spoken to before, Journal. A guy who’d walked into my life only moments before was rubbing me in a very intimate way and I loved it. I felt like my backbone had turned to liquid. It was just his hardness that held me upright. His lips hadn’t once left mine. I was dizzy with lust, desperate for more kisses, desperate for more of him. I couldn’t make my hands move, they seemed stuck around his waist. I held him against me, I didin’t push him away. I couldn’t.

He finger-fucked me slowly as he kissed me passionately. He was quiet, I don’t even remember the sound of a ragged breath drawn from his lips. I suppose I was concentrating too much on my own pleasure because he must have breathed He wasn’t just a shadow, he was solid, really solid against me. I just remember the presence of his arm against the tree beside my head and the pleasure-dance of his other hand pressed against my slit, his finger driving me to the very edge of ecstasy. I remember that his lips slipped from mine and kissed down to my neck.

My noises were animalistic. He sucked and licked in the sensitive dip of my neck and as I came he bit down. I don’t know how I could possibly explain the depth of joy and delight that surged through my body as I came, his fingers in me, on, me, stroking me and his teeth clenched in my flesh. It was a violent release that flushed away every last particle of tiredness, doubt and fear and those negative emotions were replaced with a feeling of completeness, of security and of pure satisfaction.

It tickled when he licked where he’d bitten, I giggled and he smiled. I could just see the line of it in the momentary illumination from the moon. His dark eyes glittered and I fell in love then with the man I didn’t know. He pressed his lips gently to mine.

“Thank you,” he whispered and pushed a little piece of paper into my hand. He left and I clung to the tree afraid to stand on my own.

The paper was a business card. On one side it said The Point in stark capitals and on the back it gave an address. I knew I would have to go there. I knew I wanted more of him.

I have planned releases coming up so I think next week I’m going to let you in on a sneak-peek of Bollywood Nightmare, the second book in my Djinn’s Amulet Series. Yes folks, Johnny is back and he’s getting into trouble.

For now, check out all the other snogs in the list below!

Authors, Feel free to add your snog to the list below. Just pick a kiss excerpt from one of your works (published or unpublished) that fits in with the theme and post it up on your blog. Use the BlisseKiss After Dark Banner, link back to this post then when you’ve posted it pop back here and add your URL to the list. It’s as simple as that! If you need any help at all please feel free to contact me victoria @ victoria blisse .co. uk (no spaces)