Tabitha Rayne: Erotic Author Spotlight Series
This week we welcome one of the Brit Babes aboard the Erotic Author Spotlight Series roller-coaster – Tabitha Rayne. Tabitha kindly shared with us some information about the lady behind the sexy words – as well as free excerpts and release information.
About Tabitha Rayne
Thank you for having me here Cara! I’m Tabitha Rayne, I’ve been writing and publishing erotica since 2010 and the final two books in my Meeting Point trilogy will be out this year.
I love exploring the physical and spiritual barriers between people when if comes to sex and sensuality. I’m also a little obsessed with the end of the world and my books often delve into dystopian fantasy.
The relationship between artist and muse also fascinates me. I always wanted to be an artist but the pictures I painted never quite matched the scenes in my head – I found writing a much better way to express these stories. Having said that, I’ve recently taken up drawing again and take a lot of pleasure in drawing mainly nude ladies. You can find them on my website.
You can read some of my work for free right now! – Sexy Just Walked into Town is an erotic collection from The Brit Babes – free.
Tabitha Rayne Biography
Tabitha Rayne has been told she is quirky, lovely and kinky – not necessarily in that order or by the same person. She writes erotic romance and as long as there’s a love scene – she’ll explore any genre.
Her short stories are included in anthologies from Xcite, Oysters & Chocolate, Cleis, Ravenous Romance, Mischief, and House of Erotica. She has novels with Beachwalk Press and Xcite Books.
Sexy Just Walked Into Town by Tabitha Rayne
I’ve just hitched up my skirt. I’m kneeling and the hem is at my buttocks, almost exposing them, but not quite. The familiar tingling anticipation sweeps over my flesh as I part my thighs, just a little, and lift one of the implements laid out before me. I always start with the smallest – the finest.
I hold my breath and close my eyes letting my head fall back, jaw slack, in the pose that signifies the beginning of my ritual.
I run the tip of the long fine shaft up the inside of my thigh, swirling and sweeping as I go, imagining the pattern it makes on my skin. My hand is shaking and the hairs on the back of my neck bristle in delight. If you really concentrate on your body, you can feel which nerve endings are connected. For example, if you arouse or tickle the tiny fine hairs just at the corner of your mouth, It sends a tingling sensation to the inside of your elbow – if you follow the line and sweep just there, you can trace a path all the way to the heavenly dip and peak of your sex. I defy you not to try it now. Go on, let your hand reach to the side of your mouth, go on…
The door. I hear the door open. My thighs clamp shut in shame and I’m shuffling my skirt back down when he strolls into the room.
“What’s going on here then?” He sounds like he’s being jokey but I’m so humiliated and ashamed at being caught that I can’t read his expression. I have a flashback to the same scene when I was small, only it had been my mother who’d walked in then.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she’d screamed in an explosion of fury and I’d stared at my stained skin and cried.
“Nothing,” I stammer gathering my pens and brushes to my bosom and scramble to standing.
“Come on.” He stoops low and I surrender back onto my heels. “Show me.”
He stares at me with those eyes. Those artist’s eyes that scrutinise, study, absorb and analyse. He knows my body intimately, inside and out. I’ve posed for him a hundred times and lain down for him a thousand.
He eases the pens from my grip and lays them on the floor. His fingertips are cold as he gathers my skirt and pulls it up to my resisting fists which are balled into my lap.
“Please, let me see.”
I watch the curling ink come into view as I relax my hands. Hard black scribbles both adorn and sear my flesh.
“What’s this?” he asks with curiosity, not anger and I feel I might tell him.
“My arousal,” I say. He slides his palms onto my thighs, tugging the fabric up further and sighs. I tremble, thinking he’s going to chastise me for marking myself so viciously.
“It’s beautiful,” he says and shuffles backwards so he’s on all fours staring at my work. He leans in and parts my knees, inhaling my dampening want. He reaches out and picks up one of my pens. A Rotring thick nib fountain pen. One of my favourites. “May I?” he asks tentatively and I am wide eyed at his request.
“Of course,” I whisper, quivering. I lean back on my palms and spread my thighs wide. He is intense as he makes the first mark. A long sweeping scroll from knee to groin. I shudder as he stops short of my thickening pussy lips. I hold my breath and indulge in the sensation of the ink drying. That’s it. That’s the nirvana I’m after. It’s such a subtle tiny triumph; you have to be in a very special place to perceive it. It’s like being licked by a tiny angel. He does the same on the other leg, slower this time so it dries while he’s still applying it, raising goose bumps in its wake and shooting a nerve tentacle of pleasure to the peak of my clitoris. The rising carries on its journey and I fill my chest with breath to meet it at the tip of my nipple before it retreats back to my pussy. He’s on to a brush now. He swirls my Japanese sable bamboo onto the wet charcoal block, round and round until it’s good and swollen with moisture. He bids me to unfurl my knees and lie back like a Vitruvian man.
He paints the soles of my feet, between my toes then over the arch and ankles. My whole being is centred in the tip of the cool fibres as he continues, swirling and caressing every dip and curve of my body. My stomach flutters as he makes his way over first one knee then the other, writing, drawing. I feel letters being teased onto me, then shapes and waves. I am losing myself in this slow careful ecstasy. At last the brush swoops over my mons, intertwining with my own curling fibres. My pussy is slick with desire now and I wish he would dip into me. I open my legs as wide as I can and tense my buttocks, forcing my entrance high. He obliges and sinks his face onto me, inhaling and breathing me in. He parts my thighs further with his forearms while a finger from each hand opens my plump ripe lips. He waits for a second or two, just watching my pussy twitch and contract in anticipation. I reach down and grab his hair, pulling him onto me, my bud, my cunt. He flattens his tongue down the whole length of my sex and I groan as he expertly points and darts into me then back to my clit where he swirls and laps and paints all the patterns he has made on my legs. Just as my inner muscles begin to convulse in that tell tale peaking, he stops and lifts his face away.
“You like to feel the ink drying, don’t you,”…
Sexy Just Walked Into Town feat. Tabitha Rayne
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A Clockwork Butterfly – Book 1 in The Meeting Point Trilogy
Erotic dystopian fantasy by Tabitha Rayne
“If we part ways,” he started but Deborah pressed a finger to his lips, she didn’t want to hear it, speaking it might make it true. He pushed her hand from his face and held it at his chest, his woozy gaze fixed on hers. “Deborah, if we part ways, I’ll find you. I’ll find you at the meeting point. Do everything you can to come. We are more than the physical.”
– Tabitha Rayne