Welcome to the website of Janine Ashbless. I'm a writer of fantasy and paranormal erotica and - more rarely - scorching romantic adventure. I like to write about magic and myth and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human. And hot filthy sex, obviously...

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News:

I will be attending Smut in the City: Leeds, on the 12th August 2017 in Leeds, UK.

In Bonds of the Earth

Romance Novel: Second in the Book of the Watchers trilogy

The second in my fallen angel series, In Bonds of the Earth, has been released by Sinful Press - and the third, The Prison of the Angels is already written!

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To my absolute delight I am immortalised on the "Islands of Erotica" in the Map of Literature by artist Martin Vargic. You should so buy this awesome best-seller of a book!

Recent Publications:

Falling Deep

Erotic Novel: Second in the Lovers' Wheel quartet

Coming Together in Verse

Three Poems: On Erotic Vocabulary, Minotaur and Song for Whoeveryone

Libidinous Zombie

Short Story: The Sorcerer's Apprentice

Latest Blog Post

Blue Monday

Every Monday I post a wicked excerpt for your entertainment!

Today's excerpt is from my short storyThe High Ground, which appeared in the Black Lace anthologyThe Affair.



Jill thinks her husband Dan is carrying on with her friend Fiona. So she goes and confides in Fiona's husband Miles, who is a cold 'n' scary lawyer and a fellow runner. The two hatch a plot to catch Dan and Fiona in flagrante. But things don't go quite as Jill expects...

‘I love Dan,’ I said. ‘He’s my husband. I want to keep it that way.’

‘And he loves you. I promise you that. I know him, Jill.’

‘Then how could he do this?’ I demanded, the confusion bubbling up in my breast. ‘How is it that I’m not enough – that everything we have isn’t good enough for him?’

Miles shifted in his seat to face me. ‘Well,’ he said, so softly that if you didn’t know him you might even mistake it for gentleness; ‘I can understand, I guess.’

‘That’s horrible!’

‘I mean, I love Fiona, but that doesn’t mean that when I’m with you, Jill, I don’t feel the need – the very strong need - to wrap you around my cock.’

A jolt went through me, like electricity. ‘This is so not a good time,’ I whispered.

‘No?’ He lifted his fingers to my face, stroking my temple and the line of my cheek, brushing my lips softly with a touch like the feather of a fallen angel. I trembled under his caress as his fingertips dipped to my throat. Oh, I could so easily see him as an angel of sin: he was all cold fire and magnetic superiority. His voice was low and hypnotic. ‘Then when would be a good time for me to do this?’ he asked, leaning from his seat to kiss me.

Our lips were warm together. It was the Christmas kiss all over again, though inside me now as then the effect was rather more like Bonfire Night. For a moment it was almost chaste – then his tongue was on mine and everything was all heat and melting and yielding; my mouth opening to his, my breast quivering under the sweep of his fingers as he sought beneath the claret coloured fabric of my blouse for my heartbeat. A little whimper escaped my lips as he released me to draw breath. It was a helpless animal noise, the sort that cannot help but provoke the predator. He smiled.

‘I love Dan,’ I breathed. It was my mantra.

‘I know.’ His fingers deftly slipped the top button of my fitted grey waistcoat, the main barrier between him and my nipple; I wasn’t wearing a bra beneath that red blouse. ‘You love him, and you want to fuck me.’

‘Oh God, Miles -’

‘It’s all right Jill: I understand. I know.’ He kissed me again as he captured the plump berry of my flesh through the silky fabric. I groaned as pleasure danced across my skin, shooting like fireworks through my pulse and my sex.

‘We can’t.’ My voice sounded faint.

‘Nevertheless,’ said he, licking my throat, biting my earlobe, ‘we’re going to.’ His hand fell from my breast to my inner knee. It was summer and I had no tights on, just smooth skin under his strong grasp. ‘Open your legs.’

‘Not here.’ I was grasping at excuses: the fact that we were out in public, in his car and only a few hundred yards from his house, was a hook to hang my terror on.

‘Yes. Here. Open your legs for me, Jill.’

I parted my thighs and he ran his hand up beneath my best work skirt, over my skin, to the tight silky fabric stretched over the hot mound of my pussy. I writhed in my seat, burning with arousal and shame. I put one hand on his arm as if I was going to fend him off, and felt the hard muscle work under my palm. In the secret place beneath my skirt he found lace; an edge; hair; folds.

Wet.

I saw his pupils dilate, his pale eyes darkening. I was slippery with juice already, wet from his kisses, his touch, his voice. Whatever I said, however I tried to prevaricate, my sex was in thrall to him. My body had already surrendered.

His fingers felt cool in my hot liquid slash. Delicately he took the wet to my clit and circled the sensitive nub. I spasmed, arching, biting back a cry as my arousal hit flashpoint, and that wave of heat and need was liberating. It was an immense relief not to have to think any more; I had been doing far too much thinking for the past fortnight. I let the tsunami wash over my guilt and my terror and my loss, and drown them. I sank one hand in Miles’ hair and pulled his face to mine, biting his lips. Suddenly we were kissing again - but fiercely this time, scrabbling at each other’s clothes, stealing the breath from each other as we gasped for air. He wrestled off my panties and threw them aside, and then he hauled me over into his lap.

It wasn’t exactly graceful. I had one leg either side of the gear-stick and it wasn’t really clear whether I was supposed to be sitting with my back to him or side-on, and we were cramped behind the steering wheel and the windows were steaming up. But he managed to lift me clear enough of his crotch to yank my skirt up to my hips and release his cock from the confines of his trousers before it burst his fly. I didn’t even get to see his cock – but I felt it go in. Fuck, did I ever feel it. Three strong thrusts sank him to the root in my wet pussy. My eyes watered. His arms encircled me. One hand burrowed inside my disordered blouse to knead my left breast and pinch my nipple. The other sought my sex, at the place we were joined. With it he could feel his shaft filling and stretching my hole. He rolled my clit between his fingertips.

‘You want me to fuck you, Jill?’ he whispered fiercely in my ear, thighs and pelvis heaving me up and down on his lap and his impaling length.

I grabbed his thigh and sank my nails into it through his expensive suit.

‘You want me to come inside you – deep, deep inside?’ His voice was hoarse and uneven. He had to take long pauses between phrases; spaces filled with the sound of my gasping and the creak of the car springs. ‘Want me to stick my big cock in your mouth and fuck your throat until you choke down my spunk?’

I started to groan breathily..

‘Want me to tie you down and spray my cream on your pretty little tits?’ He tugged cruelly on one of those pretty little tits and I squealed, lifting myself up and writhing down on his cock. ‘Want me to spank your bottom until it’s bright red and then ride your dirty ass and come inside it?’

I think I tried to say Yes but it just came out as an incoherent wail as I slammed through the barrier into orgasm. Miles, lifting me bodily and pumping me down on his cock, followed suit seconds later. He made no sound at all, but his grip was like iron and his whole frame shook.

I collapsed back against his chest, staring at the fogged windscreen. Outside it was growing dark. My heart was pounding harder than it ever did when I was running cross-country.

‘That was ... That was very good.’ Miles nuzzled at my neck, his tongue testing my pulse. He didn’t seem particularly inclined to let go of me.

But the confusion I thought I’d drowned was waiting for me as my pleasure ebbed, stronger than ever. When my pulse had stopped rocketing I slipped from him and back into the passenger seat, tugging awkwardly at my clothes, fumbling at buttons. I couldn’t find my knickers in the footwell; I wondered if they had gone under a seat. My faces was flushed and I tried not look at the man I’d just had sex with.

‘So, are you wildly in love with me then?’ he asked, with the special flippant smirk he reserves for really caustic jokes.

‘No!’

‘The Defence rests, m’lud.’



Buy The Affairat:
Amazon US :: Amazon UK