Portia Da Costa - purveyor of erotic romance and erotica to the discerning woman since 1994

THE DEVIL INSIDE

Please be aware that this excerpt contains sensual content that is only suitable for adult readers who are comfortable with frank language and descriptions of erotic scenarios

click for larger versionBlurb

Imagine waking up one morning with a dramatically increased libido and the gift of psychic sexual intuition. Imagine being able to read other people's sexual fantasies through the gift of extra-sensual perception.

This is exactly what happens to the usually conventional Alexa Lavelle after minor head injury whilst on holiday in the Caribbean. And in order to satisfy her strange and voluptuous new appetites, she is compelled to seek the company of exotic new friends and associates. Beginning with an encounter with the sophisticated and enigmatic doctor, Beatrice, and her gorgeously lusty 'companion' Drew, Alexa finds herself drawn rapidly into a world of bizarre eroticism and dark indulgence.

Faced with the ultimate test of her body, her mind and her senses, can the newly transformed Alexa confront the devil deep inside?


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Excerpt - Chapter 1. A New Woman

One morning, in May, on the sunlit island of Barbados, Alexa Lavelle woke up a new woman. To describe it that way was a truism, she knew, but it did sum up what she felt. She just wasn't the same woman she'd been yesterday.

The world around her seemed different too. Colours were brighter; sounds were clearer; smells assaulted her nostrils so pungently that their richness made her feel almost giddy. Lying still between the crisp cotton sheets of her wide hotel bed, Alexa experienced the weirdest sensation, a kind of buoyant rising-up that enthralled her, and turned her head the like sweet island rum.

The thought of spirits made her wonder if she was genuinely drunk. She remembered having headaches in the night, but felt nothing now. On the contrary, she couldn't recall ever having felt more healthy. She felt like running or skipping or jumping in the air. Her limbs were tingling with a great excess of energy, and her skin felt soft as silk and smoothly glowing.

Still trying to discover what'd happened to her, she thought back to the previous day. Her memories were one complete, seamless flow, yet at the same time, it was as if she was seeing the action through a filter. Today, she had a whole new set of perceptions that suddenly made yesterday seem drab.

Taking in a deep breath of the ocean-scented air, Alexa stretched, then made another discovery. Although completely alone, and so celibate since the start of her holiday that she'd hardly even thought about sex, she was suddenly aware of being aroused.

Alexa had always enjoyed lovemaking - sometimes so much so that it scared her - but right now, she felt a jolt of sharp desire. The physical symptoms were real and unmistakable, and so intense they left no room for doubt.

Between her legs, and in the pit of her belly, she had a fierce urge to be filled by a man. No particular man, just a man in the abstract. One that was strong, hard, and enduring; and alive with a lust that matched her own.

What the devil's happened to me? she wondered, stirring and stretching luxuriously, then waiting for some kind of payback. She could remember why she'd had the headaches now, but it still didn't account for everything else.

Two days ago, after falling on slippery rocks and bumping her head, Alexa had spent a couple of hours in the island's main medical centre. The staff there had examined her thoroughly, done various scans and tests, but found nothing at all untoward. She'd been unconscious a second or two after the bump, but not, they said, suffered true concussion. When her fitness to leave had been pronounced, she'd been sent back to the hotel with the simple instruction to 'take things nice and easy' - which wasn't difficult at the St James's Cove Refuge.

But last night things had not been nice and easy. Half awake and half asleep, Alexa had just lain in her bed and endured, her dozy, pain-fuddled mind imagining demons jabbing spears inside her temples. Too enervated to move, she'd promised herself she'd seek help in the morning... But when morning finally came, both the headaches and the demons were gone, and she'd woken up to sunlight and the soothing island heat.

And this unignorable craving for sex...

Stretching her fingertips slowly towards the white, stuccoed ceiling, Alexa sat up and looked around her. All her familiar possessions were here in the room with her: her clothes, her toiletries, her souvenirs and knickknacks. And yet somehow, they didn't seem to be hers any more. Her pink sundress, draped over a woven-backed chair, looked irritatingly prim and 'covered-up'. Likewise her shapeless towelling dressing gown. She remembered loving the robe when she'd bought it, and enjoying its soft, cosy comfort; but now she suddenly wished it was sleek and frivolous instead. Something exotic in flimsy watered silk. Red, with a fire-breathing dragon on the back...

Now where did I get that from? she thought, re-examining the sensuous image, then realising it was one she'd really seen. Her new friend Doctor Quine - the woman from the next cabana - had a scarlet robe with a dragon. Alexa remembered seeing it draped half on and half off Beatrice's near-naked body as they'd lazed together yesterday by the pool. The Doctor had an incredible shape, slim yet thoroughly sumptuous, and she had a habit of displaying almost all of it. She'd stretch out like a graven idol on her lounger - in the shade because her skin was very pale - and let her handsome young 'companion' read her poetry, in French, from a small, white leather-covered book. Alexa's French wasn't marvellous, but she could tell from the odd word or two, and more so from Drew's deep, velvet-brown voice, that the verse was deliciously obscene.

Flinging aside the single top sheet, then peeling off her white cotton nightie, Alexa made a long, puzzled study of her body. Like her mind, it was nominally the same as yesterday, but even so, she seemed to see changes. Her shapely, firm-fleshed thighs seemed to invite her touch, as did the softly-haired triangle of her sex. She felt her neat, dark pubis demanding something of her, something she'd mostly always done with a slight, childish guilt, but which now she anticipated eagerly. Her crisp black curls had a springy new lustre this morning, an opulence that encouraged exploration.

Her breasts looked different too. More rounded, more voluptuous. Alexa knew it was a trick of the mind, but they seemed to thrust upwards and insolently outwards, and challenge her to fondle and caress them.

Experimentally, she placed the pad of one finger against the lightly tanned curve of her abdomen; then gasped aloud in surprise. A clear, silvery sensation seemed to shoot from the point of contact, just beneath her navel, and attack the very heart of her sex. The urge to follow its path with her fingers was so strong and compelling that she bit down on her lip in pure shock. It felt as if a man had kissed her belly, sucked it long and moistly, then pressed his hand into the crease of her vulva.

On the bedside table stood her fiancé's photograph, but his smiling face offered no answers. It wasn't Thomas who'd initiated the thrill. Alexa had tried to think about him during the holiday, and she even tried now, but there seemed far more than just glass - and an ocean - between them.

Oh Tom, I'm sorry, she thought confusedly, wanting desperately to connect with the photo.

But as she failed, utterly, another image formed instead; one so clear and wickedly erotic that it made her face burn, and her limbs quiver crazily.

She was nude and sweating on this very bed, pinned and spread beneath a strong, faceless man. They were writhing and struggling in a furious bout of sex, and the stranger had his penis deep inside her. For her own part, Alexa could see that her knees were bent and legs wrapped around him, and her heels were thumping hard against his rump.

But the image was more than just sight. As clearly as she could see the empty white room around her, she could feel the unknown man pounding into her. His pulsing shaft was stretching and massaging her, and he felt massive in the cradle of her thighs. With each new thrust, he drove in even further and ravished her at her soft, molten core.

Hot yearning washed through Alexa, and pressing her hand to where her dream man laboured, she found a well of mercurial slickness. The groove of her sex was fluid and slippery and her labia were puffy and engorged. She felt alive in every part of her with a heavy, tropic power, yet at the same time felt so light she could fly.

Uttering a loud cry, Alexa smothered her last inhibitions, and gave in to the devil in her belly. Her legs flexing, she kicked out wildly, then arched back against the twisted white sheets. As her fingers danced, she made a final effort to look towards Thomas, but his picture seemed almost transparent. In her mind there was just 'man' - a immense, all-consuming presence that possessed her without revealing his face.

Rubbing faster, her bottom bouncing up from the mattress, Alexa crooned joyfully as orgasm bloomed. The pleasure made her legs wave, her loins clench, and her hands claw savagely at the linen. For a moment, as madness gripped her, she imagined she could see faces. All around, faces that should have meant nothing to her, yet which suddenly had a breathtaking impact as bodies joined the torrid inner scene. She saw handsome, tanned men from the hotel; smiling black houseboys, their thin white trousers gaping open; total strangers all primed and ready to serve her. She even saw her new friend Doctor Quine. A woman... but naked and red-mouthed with desire.

What the devil's happening to me? thought Alexa Lavelle again, as she struggled for control of her senses.

What's happening and why is it so good?

© Portia Da Costa and Virgin Books 1995 and 2014


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