The Love Scene vs. The Sex Scene

Sometimes, you want your lover to make love to you. You want to be caressed, you want to be kissed softly and sweetly and you want your hair to be stroked gently.

Then. . .sometimes, you just want to have sex! Or that other f-word. You want it against the wall, skirt hiked up, panties pulled to the side.

When I write, sometimes my hero and heroine want to have sex and sometimes they want to make love.
Take Freddie and Cleveland --the couple from More Than He Can Handle --they had sex more than they made love because Freddie Barker wasn't feeling Cleveland, a sexy firefighter who could have and had any woman he wanted.
Freddie didn't want to be like those other women, fawning over him, but she wanted him.
So, the first time they hit the bed: they were ***king. (LOL)

 All she knew was she had to have Cleveland inside her and fast.

            She took the condom from his hands. “Allow me,” she said as she pushed him on his back, then straddled his hard body. Freddie stroked his thick erection back and forth.

            “Miss Barker, you can do whatever you want to do,” he said with a sly smile.

            Freddie rolled the sheath into place then she guided him to where she needed him most. At first, it was a tight fit because it had been so long since she had been with a man and Cleveland was all man, thick and long. For a moment, it felt as if it was going to be too much for her to handle, but Cleveland shifted his hips and it was a perfect fit.

            He groaned as Freddie rode him slowly. Her intensity was building as they ground against each other and then it was as if she was possessed. She bucked like a stallion, grasping his shoulders as he pressed deeper and deeper into her wetness.

            “Oh, Freddie,” he exclaimed. “Damn.”

            She felt as if she was about to climax, but Cleveland wasn’t finished with her. He flipped her over on to her back, taking control of their rendezvous. Freddie arched her back, pressing her hips into his and matching him thrust for thrust until they were both spent from the experience. Collapsing in each other’s arms, they both exhaled. Freddie glanced at Cleveland, his eyes were half closed and he had a satisfied smile on his lips.

Now, of course, my characters make love. They revel in tender touches, feather light kisses and declarations of love and devotion (who doesn't!).

One of my favorite love scenes comes from Too Hot For TV.

Imani nodded, slowly feeling the tension easing from her shoulder. Raymond pushed the straps of her dress down her shoulders, kissing the skin he exposed. Imani shivered with desire as his tongue eased down the back of her neck. With his free hand, he unzipped her dress and it fell off her body, pooling at her feet. Raymond spun her around and drank in her image. She was clad in a pink lace strapless bra that held her breasts the way he wanted to and a pair of matching lace panties that clung to her hips and behind. Raymond ran his hand down the center of her chest, stopping at the waistband of her panties.

“May I?” he asked.

She nodded nervously. He pulled her panties around her ankles, then slipped his hand between her thighs. Imani was wet, hot and waiting. “I want to taste you,” he said, salivating at the thought of wrapping his lips around her bud. Raymond scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He could feel Imani’s heart beating in overdrive. “Are you all right?” he asked again.

“I can’t lie, I’m a little nervous,” she said as he laid her in the center of his king sized bed.

“We can stop.”

“We haven’t even started,” she said.

“If you’re ready, I know how I want to start,” he said as he slowly spread her thighs apart. With the palm of his hand, he stroked her wetness back and forth. Imani squirmed under his touch. Her body seemed to take on a life of its on, responding to Raymond’s touch in ways she never imagined that she could do. Easing between her thighs, he parted her wet lips with his fingertips, then gently licked the folds of flesh until Imani’s moans turned into screams of passion. “Raymond, Raymond,” she cried as he sucked her throbbing bud of desire. She was so sweet, so delicious. Better than he’d dreamed she would be. He licked and sucked until she trembled and exploded in his mouth. Propping up on his elbows, he looked into Imani’s sated face. “How do you feel?” he asked.

So which do you prefer (in books, that is): lovemaking or sexing?