Her Book Of Pleasure. Marie Donovan

Her Book Of Pleasure - Marie Donovan


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He cupped her adorable face between his palms, her wide cheekbones tapering into a strong chin.

      She slowly opened her eyes. “Rick?”

      “Come sit with me.”

      She smiled and pressed a kiss into his palm, her lips warm and tender. “Would you be more comfortable lying down?”

      He scooped her into his arms, grinning at her surprised squeal. “I don’t know about comfortable, but it’ll definitely be more fun.”

      His long strides took them to the bedroom. He shouldered the door open and carried her inside. The room was pitch-black, so he set her gently on her feet and switched on a lamp in the corner. The maid had turned down his bed, the white pillows gleaming invitingly.

      Rick took a deep breath. Despite his uncomfortable erection, he had to take it slow. She was small and delicate, and he wanted to be gentle.

      He unzipped her dress, the separation of each tooth buzzing in the darkened silence. A wedge of pale skin appeared as she clutched the bodice to her breasts and looked over her shoulder. He bent to kiss the nape of her neck and she shivered.

      “In Japan, the nape is considered extremely sensual.” Her voice shook for an instant and she took a deep breath.

      “I think I’m going to learn a lot about Japan from you, Michiko.” She didn’t giggle at his pronunciation this time, so he continued. “What does your name mean?” He brushed his lips over the tender skin on her jaw and circled his tongue around the tiny shell of her ear.

      She tipped her head, and he slid his tongue to the top of her bare shoulder. “Beautiful.” Her voice came out on a sigh.

      “I’m going to show you how beautiful it can be.”

      She giggled again and turned to face him. “No, my name means ‘beautiful and wise.’”

      “And you are. Your mother must have been psychic.”

      He thought a shadow crossed her face, but it was too dark to tell. In fact, it was still too dark to see much of anything, so he switched on the desk lamp. Its warm glow turned her skin to gold and her eyes to jade.

      His clothes strangled him. He wanted to rip off his shirt, unzip his pants and plunge inside her. Restraint, he reminded himself.

      He knelt in front of her, rested his fingers over hers, which were still holding the dress. She let go and it slipped. The top slopes of her breasts appeared first, then the dress hung for an instant on her nipples. The bodice fell, baring her to the waist. She moved to cover herself, but he caught her hands and spread her arms wide. He was starving for the sight of her.

      “Perfect.” Her breasts were small but flawless, the golden flesh crowned with coral nipples. He had to know if she tasted as sweet as she looked, so he leaned forward and sucked her deep into his mouth. She made an incoherent noise and clutched his head against her, threading her fingers through his hair. Her nipple pebbled instantly.

      “Mmmm.” He swirled his tongue around her areola, exploring the taut flesh. Lifting his mouth, he blew gently on her damp skin. She cried and grabbed his shirtfront.

      “No fair! I want to touch you, too.” Michiko unbuttoned his shirt with shaking hands. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders and ran her long nails across his chest.

      He groaned, falling into her spell again. She laughed and tried to pull him toward the bed, but he didn’t plan on letting her take charge. “Not yet.” He leaned close and lightly nipped her breast. “You can wait.”

      “Oh, no, I can’t.”

      He cut off her protest with his mouth, kissing her hungrily until she melted against him. He trailed his lips over her silken skin to her right breast, nuzzling his cheek against her soft flesh. She cupped her breast, offering the nipple to him, and he eagerly accepted, sucking at her with hard, eager pulls.

      It was amazingly erotic that almost her whole breast fit into his mouth. He was rapidly developing a preference for small-breasted women, especially when Michiko arched her back and moaned. He shoved her dress off her hips, grabbing her ass with both hands. She rubbed her hips against his bare belly, nearly losing her balance.

      “Rick, wait—I have to get my dress.” She tugged at his head, making him release her breast. She kicked her feet free and bent over to pick up the dress, her breasts swaying free.

      “Forget the dress.” He cupped her in his palm, rolling the slick nipple between his fingers.

      She closed her eyes and licked her lips, leaning into his caress for a brief second before straightening. “I’ll be right there, lover,” she said, her husky voice full of promise.

      Lover? The word sent a thrill down his spine. He yanked his shirt out of his waistband and threw it on the floor.

      Michiko sashayed to the armchair sitting in the corner and draped her dress over it. Her ass was lush and full, barely covered by a tiny pair of pale green panties. Her legs were short and shapely, encased in silky stockings. The stockings were flesh-colored but had some sparkling threads woven throughout. The shimmering lace band of her stockings gripped her thighs only a few inches below her panties.

      She slowly bent from the waist to unstrap her high-heeled sandals, showing him where her panties dipped between her buttocks, cupping her folds. He saw a darker green patch where her arousal had dampened the silk. “Stop. I want you to leave the shoes on.”

      “Do you like tall girls better?” She straightened and lifted an eyebrow.

      “Not particularly. I like how the high heels make your breasts jut and your ripe little ass sway when you walk.”

      She gasped. Then her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and he realized his blunt words had aroused her. She was in luck if she liked plain speaking, since he was too painfully hard to think of a flowery speech.

      Sitting on the edge of the king-size bed, he spread his legs wide and adjusted his cock in his uncomfortably snug pants. “Walk over here to me, Michiko.”

      MICHIKO. What would Michiko do? Meg stared at him, her pulse and thoughts racing. The ball was in her court. Put out or get out. She almost giggled with anticipation. His upper body was heavy with muscle. The reddish hair covering his chest glinted gold in the warm, intimate lamplight, his skin a burnished bronze.

      Despite Rick’s size, though, she wasn’t intimidated. She took a deep breath, thrust out her chest and cocked a hip. No point in playing coy anymore. They both wanted the same thing.

      She strutted across the bedroom carpet, making sure to throw an extra wiggle in her walk. His eyes darkened to a dark sapphire blue. She moved past him and sat on the side of the bed. Swinging her legs onto the mattress, she crossed her ankles and leaned on her elbows. He had turned to watch her. “Are you coming, Rick?”

      Meg didn’t know a big man could move so fast. He made a graceful pouncing move, covering her body with his. She shifted under him, and he groaned. “Do that again.” He lowered his mouth to hers and she rolled her hips against his erection. Her satin panties rasped erotically across his hair-roughened belly, his cold belt buckle pressing her thigh.

      She grabbed his broad shoulders as he stroked her. “You’re dripping wet.” He pushed aside the elastic and slipped a long, thick finger inside her. She cried out at the intense pressure stretching her. He added another finger, thrusting them in and out. Soft, gasping moans came from her dry throat as he rubbed his chest against hers, her sensitive nipples catching in his hair.

      “You like that, don’t you, Michiko?” He circled her clitoris with the pad of his thumb, drawing the satin tight against the cleft of her bottom.

      Meg nodded, all rational thoughts flying from her mind.

      “Good.” He stopped.

      “What?” Stopping wasn’t good, not when she was so close, the tiny nub between her legs sending shudders through her. Rick pulled her limp body to a sitting


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