Reviews For TORRID TEASERS Volume 47 by Eden Rivers

"Eden Rivers did a beautiful job putting these two stories together, and if you're one who enjoys reading about the ménage or orgy experience, you will love this story. These stories are very well written, straight adventurous sex, with a hint toward permanence in the relationship, the happy-ever-after."_4.5 Enchantments from Desiree Douglas, Enchanting Reviews

You won't be disappointed in Torrid Teasers Volume 47 both of Ms. Rivers' stories are more than steamy. You'll probably need your own walk on the beach to cool off after this one.
~Simply Romance Reviews

Sample Chapter For TORRID TEASERS Volume 47 by Eden Rivers

Three Nights with Adam
“You awake?” Still damp from the shower, Adam crawled into bed next to Paige. “Sorry I’m late. We played an extra game—and lost.”

“Mmm. I’m awake.” Stretching, she forced herself to surface. “Since you got your ass whipped at basketball, how about we play a game you’re guaranteed to win?” Propping herself up on her elbows, chin resting on her palms, she waited to see if he’d pounce.

When Adam switched on the lamp on the bedside table, the beads hanging from the glass globe threw shadows across the walls. His hair stood up in tousled brown spikes, and he smelled like soap and shampoo with a hint of his own musky, salty scent thrown in for good measure.

“You’re so beautiful.” He pushed strands of wavy brown hair away from her cheeks, then traced the curve of her jaw with his thumb. “And yeah—I’ll play.”

Relaxing against the heat of his body, she closed her eyes and lay back on her pillow. He tugged her t-shirt over her head and slid her panties off, then moved her arms so they rested on the pillow, stretched out over her head. She shivered as he curled her fingers around a bar of the cast iron headboard, tensed when she felt the brush of silk against her face.

With a deft movement, he knotted a silk scarf around her head, covering her eyes. He rested his hands on hers, pressing her fingers harder against the metal bar. Her breath caught in her throat as silk brushed her wrists. In one motion, he circled her wrists with satiny cloth and bound them to the lowest bar of the headboard.

Before she had a chance to catch her breath, his mouth covered hers, and she shivered under the gentle warmth. Her heart skipped a beat when he nipped her lower lip. Teasing until she opened for him, he tangled his tongue with hers in an erotic dance that sent flutters of pleasure radiating all the way down to her clit.

As he shifted to kiss the hollow above her collarbone, then worked his way down her breast toward the nipple, she squirmed under the heat of his mouth. Unable to wrap her arms around him, she pressed her legs against the heat of his body, shivering at the contact.

“More?”

“Yes. I want to feel your mouth on me.”

Adam took her nipple into his mouth. When he nipped her, she gasped and kicked free of the quilt covering their legs. Humming softly under his breath, he moved his head down to her stomach and tickled with his tongue along the outline of her ribs. She moaned when he lifted her leg to kiss the crease at the back of her knee.

The silk scarf tugged at her wrists as she arched and twisted under the weight of Adam’s body. A thousand memories of being bound like this pounded through her consciousness, until her palms were damp with sweat, and she couldn’t wait to see what came next. As she shifted under him, the caress of the sheet against her back added to the barrage of sensations. At this rate she’d soak the bed before they even had sex.

She trembled as Adam licked a trail up her leg and paused at the crease of her inner thigh. “Please?”

Her skin twitched as he zigzagged his tongue over the ticklish spots. When he licked the outer folds of her labia, she cried out. She ached to be free of the silk that bound her wrists, to tear away the scarf that covered her eyes so she could see the lines of sweat on his chest, the brown stubble on his chin, the heat in his eyes when he looked at her.

So hungry she felt like she was about to spontaneously combust, she raised her hips, wanting to feel Adam’s mouth hard against her. Sucking and nipping, tugging and probing with his tongue, he nuzzled his face between her thighs, always pausing just before she came.

“You. Are. Sadistic.”

Humming under his breath, he reached over to switch off the lamp beside the bed. “Tell me what you want, Paige. I want to hear you say it.”

She forced a smile. “Right now I want you to go to hell, but will you fuck me first?”

Laughing, he loosened the knot that secured her wrists, unwound the coil of silk to free her, and shifted her hands to the small of his back. But he didn’t remove the blindfold.
When the flat of his hand made contact with the side of her ass, she let out a hiss of surprise.

“No?”

Uncertain, she hesitated, giving him enough time to shift into a sitting position and drag her across his lap, so her hips were supported by his thighs.

“Yes or no?”

The heat of his thighs elicited a quiver of approval from her clit, and with the blindfold still in place, she was uncomfortably aware of the weight of his palm resting on her ass. They’d played this game so many times before, but with her body still drowsy and sluggish from sleep, she didn’t know if she was up for this tonight.

“I’ll make it good for you.” Sliding his other hand under her crotch, he stroked her clit then gently tugged the small bundle of nerve endings between his index finger and thumb.

“You have a high opinion of yourself, don’t you?” Knowing he’d take her sassy reply as a sign of assent, she prepared for the heat of his hand against her ass cheeks.

“Nope, not good enough.” Sliding his hand further between her legs, he eased one finger into the slick heat of her pussy. “You’ve got to say yes, first.”

“Yes first.” Grinning, she wiggled against his thighs and raised her ass, and this time her impertinence earned her a firm slap on her butt.

As heat radiated from her ass directly to her clit, she whimpered, and Adam slid another finger inside her. He moved his fingers in a scissoring motion, stretching her lust-swollen flesh, and her whimper became a moan.

“Again?”

Before she had a chance to answer, he spanked the other side of her buttocks, and she cried out in surprise. The world turned fuzzy red behind her blindfold, the color of wanting, the color of need. She arched her ass higher in a tacit invitation.

“Hmm.” Adam slid a third finger into her pussy, steadying her with a hand around her waist when she bucked against his thighs. “I can smell you—warm and wet, like sex and summer rain.”

And then he released his hold on her waist and landed a series of slaps on her ass, moving his hand a few inches every time so he covered her with a delicious pattern of heat and sensation. All the while, his fingers moved inside her, stroking and stretching, then pressing forward toward her pelvic bone until he hit the spot that drove her wild.

“No, don’t. I don’t want to come without you inside me.”

“So come twice, then.” With three more strokes of his palm to her ass, and the pressure of a fourth finger inside her, pushing relentlessly forward against her wet, swollen flesh, he drove her over the edge.

“Oh fuck.” She bucked hard against his fingers, drawing out the sensations as the world crashed down around her. Just when the spasms peaked and she lifted her head, gasping for air, Adam’s hand connected with her ass so hard she cried out, and she writhed across his lap as the clenching, breathless, helpless, oh-so-delicious waves of her orgasm crashed across her senses like a Tsunami.

“I want,” she panted as she wriggled off his lap, “your cock inside me.”

“Pleased to oblige, ma’am.”

The Ones We Love
Sarah couldn’t decide whether to blame Celia’s chowder or the wine, but her body seemed determined to ignore her urge to stay alert and on guard. Her spine relaxed into a soft curve, and her limbs felt heavy and loose as she listened to the crashing waves. Curled beside her on the beach blanket, Jon fidgeted with a piece of driftwood, the heat of his body warm against her back. His musky, soapy scent mixed with the smell of salt spray, and she shivered at the reminder of the hot, damp smell of sex.

Nearby, their closest friends clustered around the remains of the bonfire. His sandy brown head dappled golden in the firelight, Ryan lay next to Celia with his hand snuggled under the waistband of her jeans. Celia’s devilish half smile sent a shiver of apprehension, or maybe anticipation, down Sarah’s spine. Ever since they’d roomed together during their first year of college, Sarah’s raven-haired, irrepressible friend had dragged her into more adventures than she cared to count.

And if Celia didn’t find a way to turn a quiet evening by the shore into something…memorable, Drew would. Sitting with his arm draped across Ethan’s shoulders as he stared at the glowing embers, Drew was six-feet-two of trouble in an irresistible package. His dark hair curled under the collar of his shirt, and his full, sensual lips, moody blue eyes, and angular cheekbones were dappled with shadows in the firelight.

Sarah suspected Drew and Ethan were drawn to each other because Drew was as wild as Ethan was steady. Still, although Ethan kept his black hair clipped short and neat, and Drew wore his long and tousled, Ethan’s preppy accountant look and wire-rimmed glasses couldn’t hide the body of a former college athlete. And if the others initiated something wild, Sarah knew from experience Ethan would ditch his conservative image and play along.

Jon shifted and traced a finger along the curve of Sarah’s breast before tangling his fingers in her chestnut curls. “Want another glass of wine?” His grin looked sexy in the firelight, and he reached up to push a thatch of blond hair away from his forehead.

“I think I’ve had too much already.” When Drew suggested the spring evening on the beach, Sarah knew he had more than food and conversation in mind, and she wanted a clear head if things got out of hand.

As Jon traced his fingers down her spine, letting them rest at the small of her back, Sarah listened to the rhythmic churning of the waves. Hungry for something she couldn’t bring herself to name, something more complicated than his body pressed naked and wet against hers, she stretched out against the curve of his chest, closed her eyes, and buried her hands in the cool sand.

When Ethan and Drew doused the dying fire with a bucket of seawater, Jon sat up and grabbed her around the ribs. “I think we’ve communed with nature enough for one night.”
“But it’s peaceful out here.” Edgy about what might unfold once they were indoors, she hesitated to leave the beach.

Drew chuckled, a low, sexy sound. Sarah suspected he had her all figured out—knew what she wanted, but also understood her fears, and her irrational need to cling to her innocent, country girl image.

Celia rose, and brushed sand off of her shorts, her “I dare you” look easily identifiable in the moonlight. “C’mon, Sarah, I’ll protect you from the big, bad wolves.”

Feed her to them, more like it. But this was a familiar game, and Sarah—not to mention everyone else present—knew she’d join them. She just needed a little coaxing to soothe away her good-girl skittishness.

Jon kissed the nape of her neck and slipped his hand under her shirt to cup her breast. She reached up to touch his face, and felt along his hairline for the childhood scar from when he fell off his bike. Everything about him was familiar, soothing.

“I’m not sure I can do this tonight.”

Not that there hadn’t been dozens of nights like this over the years. And she loved these people more than she could say. But she felt like her stomach was full of June grasshoppers, and she wondered for the millionth time how a shy girl from Idaho had ended up with such a wild bunch.

And for the millionth time she answered herself. Years ago, on the night she’d looked across the crowded college party and spotted Jon, her mouth had gone dry and she’d known in an instant she’d do anything for him. Falling in love with his friends had been a simple extension of the love she offered him.

Jon ran his hand along her arm. “It’s okay. We’ll leave if you get uncomfortable. But the clouds will cover the moon before long, and it’s getting cold.”

As they turned and started toward the lights of the beach house, Ryan kicked a spray of sand across their legs.

“Hey!” Sarah yelped and dodged to the side, but Jon circled around and brought Ryan down with a running tackle.

Ryan’s hand snaked out and grabbed Sarah’s ankle, tumbling her onto the sand with them. She lay there laughing, uncomfortably conscious of the heat of two male bodies beside her. The guys untangled, brushed the worst of the sand off their jeans, and each grabbed an arm to tug her to her feet.

“We were heading in. Remember?” Despite Jon’s scolding tone, Sarah sensed the eagerness, not to mention hunger, behind his words.

“Was it my idea to roll around so we could bring half the beach into the cottage with us?” Her fears forgotten, Sarah bolted out of reach before Jon could grab her and tumble her to the ground.

By the time they’d stripped off their sandy sweatshirts, tossing them in a careless pile on the porch, Sarah shivered with either nerves or anticipation, she couldn’t tell which.

“Cold?” Concern shadowed the rugged lines of Jon’s face as he cupped his hand under her chin.

“No, I’m fine.” The spring night had turned cooler, but that wasn’t why goose bumps covered her arms. “I’m ready to go in, though.” Apprehension vied with mounting excitement as she took a last look at the stars before opening the door.

His hands resting lightly on her sides, Jon followed Sarah into the beach house, with Ryan trailing behind. Candles lined the mantle in the living room, thin tapers the color of the spring sky, and vases of yellow tulips shone with eerie beauty in the candlelight. Sarah sank onto an oversized pillow and grabbed a frosted brownie from the plate on the coffee table.

If she focused her full attention on dessert, maybe she could avoid thinking about tangled, naked limbs. Could almost forget the fact that it might not be Jon’s face she looked at as she climaxed, that Drew or Ryan’s hands might cup her ass while she came. Realizing she’d bolted down the brownie without savoring the rich chocolate, Sarah licked the crumbs off her fingers. So much for the power of chocolate over sex.

“Not so edgy now?” Celia handed her a glass of wine, pausing to trail a finger along her jaw. Her amber-brown eyes full of mischief, she leaned forward until waves of black hair framed her face. Then, without warning, she brushed the faintest of kisses across Sarah’s cheek, eliciting a shudder of recognition. “Of course, the night’s still young.”

Wineglasses in hand, Ryan and Jon settled on the rug, one on each side of Sarah. Not a good sign. On an average night, Ryan would curl up with Celia, and Ethan and Drew would snuggle up together on the couch, leaving her with Jon—where she belonged. This wasn’t going to be an average night.

Devilment flashing in his clear blue eyes, Drew reached out and caught Celia before she could dart back to the kitchen. “Hey, Ethan, you’re on your own in the kitchen. I’ve captured our hostess, and I think I’ll keep her.” He maneuvered Celia onto the couch beside him, and keeping her pinned with one arm, he leaned forward to grab a brownie.

Laughing, Celia made a show of trying to wiggle free, smudging her wrist with chocolate frosting in the process.

“Hold still.” In a gesture that crossed the line from flirtation to foreplay, Drew lifted Celia’s hand to his mouth, licked away the smudge of frosting, and nipped and suckled the sensitive underside of her wrist.

“Hey, quit bothering the hostess.” His grin softening the reprimand, Ethan set a platter of sliced fruit, cheese, and crackers beside the brownies.

Ryan grinned wolfishly at Celia. “She looks pretty happy to me.” As he sipped his wine, he shifted his knee so it rested against Sarah’s thigh, the casual contact enough to evoke a barrage of sensual memories.

Swirling his wine in its glass, Jon patted the floor beside him and motioned for Ethan to join him—at which point Sarah’s pulse kicked into high gear. Celia and Drew seemed content to explore each other’s mouths on the couch, and if Jon ended up with Ethan tonight, that left her with Ryan.

Not an average night, but not all that unusual, either. Given the group’s web of loyalties and attachments, over the years she’d gotten to know Ryan’s body almost as well as Jon’s. She might be more standoffish than the rest of them, but the thought of Ryan’s strong hands on her ass sent a current of heat through her belly.

With a sigh of contentment, Ethan stretched out on his side beside Jon, his arms curled around a throw pillow and his head resting against Jon’s leg. For a moment everyone was quiet. The candles cast shadows across the ceiling, and the curtains shifted as the wind picked up. Celia got up to shut the windows as the first, fat drops of rain pelted the screens.

As the room closed around her, snug and warm, Sarah leaned back against Ryan’s chest. But when Drew got up and blew out all but one of the candles, Sarah’s heart skipped a few beats, and she reached instinctively for Jon’s hand.

Formulating the beginnings of several credible reasons to flee the gathering and return to a world where her small town sensibilities applied, she clung to Jon’s hand like a lifeline.

“It’s up to you, Sarah. If you’re not up for this tonight, we can either go upstairs together, or head home. No pressure.” Leaning forward, he pushed her brown curls out of the way and kissed the soft spot behind her ear.

“We want you to stay. You know we do. No one’s going to do anything you don’t like.” Celia’s voice was gentle, coaxing, and her hair pooled around her face in a raven-black cloud as she tilted her head toward Sarah.

Moving slowly so as not to startle her, Ryan brushed the tips of his fingers across her nipples. “Stay, Sarah. Please?”

Hell, it didn’t help that Ryan made puppy dog eyes at her, his baby blues all childlike innocence. Jon, on the other hand, had eyes full of heat and wanting, dark green and dappled with smoky shadows, and she didn’t have the heart to disappoint him. Glancing around the room at her friends’ faces, softened by candlelight but nonetheless unmistakably hungry, Sarah took a few deep breaths and released Jon’s hand.

Drew settled back beside Celia on the couch, and as Jon reached across the coffee table to stroke Ethan’s arm, Sarah felt her heart beat tighter against her ribs at the sense of expectation in the room. Captivated by the two men, their faces outlined in the pool of light cast by the remaining candle, she jumped when a lash of rain pelted the windows.

“Are you okay?” Ryan’s voice crept through her senses like warm honey, his tone as intimate as an embrace.

Trying to suppress her edginess, Sarah settled back into his arms. “I’m fine.”

“That’s more like it.” His breath warm on her cheek, Ryan slid his hands behind her back and pulled her down beside him on the rug.

With Ryan’s arms draped around her and her face pressed into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, she felt safe. Other than the rain pelting the roof, the only sounds were low sighs as Drew and Celia explored each other’s bodies.

When Ryan tugged Sarah’s shirt loose from her pants, she lifted her arms so he could pull it over her head. Her skin twitched as he traced lazy circles on her belly, weaving a trail of sensation across her skin.

“What about this?” he asked, tugging at her silky black camisole.

“Not yet.” Despite the dim lighting, she hesitated to bare herself in front of the group.
You could take the girl out of Idaho, but you couldn’t take Idaho out of the girl—not even after dozens of nights like this over the years. Sometimes, she wished she could leave her inhibitions behind once and for all. But as Celia pointed out, overcoming her natural reticence was half the fun.

Not afflicted by Sarah’s shyness, Celia tugged off her shirt, shed her bra, and toyed with the zipper on Drew’s jeans. In her mother’s words, Celia was “a negative influence.” For this, among other things, Sarah adored her brash, irreverent friend more than she could say. If ever there was someone who’d needed—hell, make that craved—corrupting, it was Sarah.

When she glanced in Jon’s direction, he winked at her, and her answering blush shone hot enough to be obvious in the dim light. His jeans rode low on his hips, and for a moment she felt the slightest twinge of disquiet at the thought that someone else would have their hands on his tightly muscled ass tonight.

“You with me?” Ryan pulled her close so she could hide her face against his shoulder, and she reached up to touch his soft, brown hair. “Here, let’s try this. Lie down with your head on the pillow.” Easing her onto her back, he nudged her camisole out of the way and nuzzled her belly button.

“That tickles.” Sure, tickled in a way that had heat pooling between her legs, and her hips arching involuntarily off the floor.

“Relax.” He licked damp trails across her belly as she squirmed under his mouth. When she murmured something about being cold, Ryan grabbed one of the beach blankets Celia had piled on the rocking chair, and knelt to spread the old quilt under and around her.

“Look.” Ryan gestured toward the sofa, where Celia and Drew sat naked except for panties and boxers. Their dark heads were pressed close together, and Celia’s skin shone like porcelain against Drew’s golden tan. “Pretty, aren’t they?”

CLOSE WINDOW