Читать книгу Her Book Of Pleasure - Marie Donovan - Страница 7

RICK WATCHED in fascination as Michiko took a long sip of whiskey.

“That tasted great, warming my throat all the way down.” She ran her tiny pink tongue around her pouty lips and stroked the creamy length of her neck, trailing her slim fingers between her breasts. “How was yours?”

“What? Oh. My drink’s fine.” He’d been distracted by the expression on her face as she caressed her throat and chest. She was the most sensual woman he’d met in a long time, but he would have a hard time finding her if he didn’t learn more about her. “Tell me about yourself, Michiko.”

“Hmmm, just enough information to give you a challenge. I live in Chicago, but I’m not from here. Rey and I have been friends for a few years.”

“Where do you work?”

She laughed. “I’ll give you a couple clues. I was born in Japan and I work at a university in the city.”

He knew she was as smart as she was beautiful. Was she an artist like Rey? “What department?”

She shook her head, the reddish highlights in her dark hair gleaming. “That’s all you get out of me tonight.” But her sidelong smile as she sipped her drink told him that wasn’t necessarily so.

“You have a drop on the corner of your mouth.” He wanted to see her tongue again, watch it make her full lips glistening and wet.

“Can you get it?” She turned her big green eyes on him.

“Sure.” Instead of wiping the whiskey with a napkin or even his thumb, he deliberately kissed the corner of her mouth, flicking his tongue over the seam of her lips.

She met his tongue with hers, her taste dark and spicy. Her slender hand rested against his chest, and his heart pounded painfully as if to reach her touch.

He cupped the silken nape of her neck and she moaned, her mouth opening even wider under his. Winding her arms around him, she caressed the hollow of his throat. He planted frantic kisses on her mouth, her cheek and jaw, following the path her fingers had traced, almost down to her breast. Her fingers tightened in his hair and he broke away from her, his heart racing.

They stared at each other and he wiped a shaking hand across his face. “We have to stop.”

“Do we?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“What do you suggest?” His pulse pounded painfully.

“I hear the Palmer House has wonderful rooms upstairs, but I’ve never seen any.” Her eyes were heavy-lidded and seductive, her mouth plump and glistening. “Want to show me yours?”

Oh, boy, did he ever. He pulled his electronic keycard out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “I’m in room 1033. I’ll meet you in ten minutes.” He’d never settle down enough to walk across the lobby if she sat with him. He also didn’t want her to be embarrassed if they were caught slipping upstairs together.

She stood and turned to look at him. “Hurry, Rick. I’ll be waiting.” She wove her way through the tables, her hips swaying in a sinuous stroll.

He tossed back the rest of his whiskey and took several deep breaths. “Believe me, Michiko, I’ll make it worth the wait.”

MEG MANAGED TO KEEP her walk confident until she got into the empty elevator. The doors glided shut, and she clutched the brass elevator rail.

“What am I doing?” Her voice echoed crazily around the empty elevator, her palm sweaty around Rick’s keycard. The mirrored walls reflected someone she’d never seen before. She stepped closer to examine her face. Her eyes were deep green and heavy-lidded, her cheeks flushed. Her mouth was puffy and pink, despite having kissed off all her lipstick. She hoped he didn’t have a huge smear of Palmer House Plum on his collar.

She gave a start as the elevator rose. The doors opened at the ballroom level and the sweet strains of a Nat King Cole love song floated in. A couple staggered into the elevator, kissing and tugging at each other’s clothing.

Pretending she was alone was the best course of action. She only hoped they got off the elevator before, well, they got off in the elevator.

The redheaded woman was about her age and pulled at the blond man’s tie, kissing the bared skin at the base of his throat. “We have to hurry.” Her voice was low and feverish.

He grabbed her ass with both hands. “Yeah, I have to get back before my girlfriend notices we’re gone.”

What a scumbag. Meg braced herself for an explosion of disgust from the redhead.

The woman shrugged. “My boyfriend was dancing with a brunette. I doubt he’ll miss me.”

The repulsive pair finally stumbled off the elevator onto the ninth floor, one floor below Rick’s room.

Well, Nat King Cole might think love was forever, but Meg knew different.

The elevator door opened on the tenth floor. She took a deep breath and followed the corridor to Room 1033. Peeling the keycard off her palm, she jammed it into the slot. It blinked red warning lights.

Good enough. Her foray into anonymous sex was obviously not meant to be. She pulled at the card, but it stuck tight in the slot. Maybe she’d warped the plastic when she clutched it in her hot little hand.

She felt like a burglar, tugging and cursing at the card. She wasn’t firing on all cylinders, either, thanks to the Cuban sangria and Irish whiskey.

The card clicked into the slot and the light turned green. Green meant go ahead. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the lever handle.

She fumbled for the light switch and flipped it on. Rick’s room was actually a luxurious suite, the elegant living room decorated with heavy cherry furniture. Her heels sunk into the thick blue carpet as she advanced cautiously. The room was immaculate, as if no one were staying here. She passed through a marble-tiled hallway into the bedroom.

At least the bedroom showed some signs of occupation. A carry-on bag that had seen better days lay open on the dresser, a crumpled navy Polo shirt and wrinkled khakis slung over a chair. She peeked into the open bag. Plenty of clean clothes and no sharp weapons, always a good sign. She turned to check the bed, testing the mattress with her hand. Firm but not too bouncy. If she were as casual about sex as she had pretended, she’d shuck off the Jolly Green Midget costume and wait for Rick in bed. Naked. She smiled and she left the bedroom in a hurry.

The glass-walled shower in the huge bathroom was still wet. She sniffed appreciatively, recognizing the citrus-and-sandalwood scent of his cologne. Running her hand over his thick white bathrobe, she took a quick look at the counter, relieved when she didn’t find any bottles of antipsychotic medication, jock itch creams, or membership cards for the American Society of Sickos.

Now that Meg was somewhat reassured of her physical safety, she had another horrible thought. What if Rick were married? She considered herself a modern American woman, but she drew the line at married men. A long, thick, indelible line.

She heard a gentle tapping at the door. “Michiko, it’s me, Rick.”

She froze. No way out now. She hurried to the door and yanked it open. Abandoning any pretense at dissembling, she blurted the question that weighed on her mind. “Are you married?”

“Am I what?” Rick cheered silently. Michiko had come to his hotel room. He leaned over to kiss her and she backed away.

“No, none of that. Not until you tell me if you’re married.”

“Married?” He straightened. “No, I’m not married. What kind of man invites women to his hotel room if he’s married?” As soon as he asked her that, he felt foolish. As part of his investigative training, he’d done infidelity and divorce work. “You’re not married, are you?”

Michiko gave him a horrified look. “Hell, no!”

“Yeah, ‘hell, no’ about sums it up for me, too.” He shrugged off his blazer and tossed it on an armchair.

She glanced around nervously, gesturing to the fridge. “Want something from the minibar?”

“No, thanks.” His head was still spinning from the whiskey he’d poured on top of his jet lag. “You?”

“No, no.” She clasped her hands in front of her, revealing the top curves of her breasts as the dress gaped.

Her vulnerability surprised and touched him. He moved across to her and cupped her shoulders. “Let’s go back to the reception. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

Although he wanted her badly, he’d wait if need be. He sensed hidden depths to her that he could never fully explore in one hurried night together. And he never could resist a mystery.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and nestled her head against his chest. “I want to stay.”

Rick bent to kiss her, and damned if the pull he’d felt in the bar wasn’t even stronger. This time, though, he made sure he was the one in control, nipping at her tongue as she tried that roof-of-the-mouth trick again. He plunged his tongue deep into her mouth, mimicking what he planned on doing later. He withdrew his tongue, trying to tease her, but she sucked it hard, holding it tight in her mouth’s wet heat. He ground his body against hers, his pants sliding across the fabric of her dress. God, he was almost ready to explode because of a few French kisses.

A twinge in his neck saved him from embarrassing himself. He loved kissing her, but any more action at this angle and he’d need a visit to the chiropractor. Not wanting to contemplate throwing out his back at some crucial point, he straightened. 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 position and tugged the hairpins from her hair.

She pushed his hands away. “Stop! I have to go back to the reception and my hair will be a mess.”

“You seem to have the wrong impression, Michiko.” He traced a hairpin down to her breast and circled it around her nipple.

“What wrong impression?” Her breath caught in her throat as he swirled the pin around her other nipple.

“That I’m in a hurry. That this is some ten-minute wedding reception quickie.” He spread the metal wide, bending it out of shape.

“Isn’t it?”

“No.” He caught her nipple in the hairpin’s curve and gently squeezed the ends together. “I plan on taking my time.”

“I don’t want you to take your time.” She arched her neck and moaned as he pinched her a bit harder and licked the swollen flesh. “I want to come.” She was begging. She never begged during sex. Sex with her ex had certainly not been anything to beg for. Except maybe mentally begging him to finish.

“You will come. But not yet.” He released the hairpin and she bit off an unladylike curse. “I want to see your black hair spread over my white pillow. I want to run my hands through it as I pound into you.”

Wow. When he put it like that…Meg yanked hairpins out of her French twist and threw them on the floor.

“I said, I’m not in a hurry.” Rick pushed her hands aside and ran his fingers through her hair, finding hidden hairpins and setting them carefully on the nightstand. She arched in sheer pleasure as his fingertips massaged her sore scalp.

“Mmmm. Feels good.” She rubbed her cheek along the crisp hair of his forearm.

“You look like a little cat when you do that, especially with those green eyes glittering at me.” He finger-combed her hair over her shoulders and breasts.

“Do you like little pussycats, Rick?” She peeped coyly at him through the curtain of her hair.

She shrieked as he grabbed her ass and yanked her underneath him, her thighs sprawling wide.

“Pussycats?” His voice was raspy and dangerous as he eased down her body until his mouth hovered above her stomach. “You have to be careful until you know what they like.” He dipped his tongue into her belly button, nibbling at the tender flesh surrounding it.

She giggled and swatted at his head. “Stop! I’m ticklish!” First begging, now giggling. He was certainly bringing out new sides of her in bed.

“There you go. Some pussycats are ticklish. So you have to try something else.” He blew on her damp belly and she shuddered, threading her fingers through his thick wavy hair.

“Come here and kiss me.” She tugged lightly on his head.

He ignored her command, his stare fixed on her panties. “Do you know what I like to do?” His mouth was so close to her that his deep voice sent vibrations to her clit.

“What?” She let go of his hair.

His blue eyes glowed brightly. All her talk about pussycats had unleashed a tiger. “I love to pet little black pussycats. Pet them and stroke them until they purr.”

She gulped.

He yanked her panties to her knees and nuzzled the strip of black hair, his hot breath scorching her throbbing flesh. She mentally blessed Rey for dragging her to the spa for a wax job.

Bikini waxes abruptly flew from her mind as Rick leisurely circled the aching nub with his thumb. She thrashed her head against the pillow, her hips thrusting at him. “Faster, faster.”

“Sorry, the pussycat doesn’t have a say.” He deliberately slowed his caresses to a stop. “Say please, pussycat.”

She gritted her teeth and tried to bring her thighs together, but he was lodged firmly between them. He bent and blew on her.

“All right, all right! Please.” She rolled her eyes as she said it, making a false show of protest when she was desperate to have him touch her.

He grinned, as if he knew what that bit of submission cost her. “That’s better.” He ran a finger around her damp opening, lubricating her clit with her own juices. His strokes were hard and fast, stroking her and playing with her. Hard pressure built, tiny pulses wracking her body.

“I must be doing a good job, pussycat, ’cause you’re getting all sleek and shiny.”

She opened her eyes. His face was only inches from her sex, the black hair glistening with moisture.

He inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring at the scent of her desire. “Some pussycats love to get wet.” He slipped a finger between her drenched folds. “Like you.”

“I want you inside me.” She tried to tug at him, but he shook his head.

“Not yet.” A devilish look crossed his face. “What do pussycats like best?”

“Who cares?” She was burning, crazy to come with his thick cock inside her.

He pulled her panties off, tugging them past her high heels and spreading her thighs wide. “A nice, long tongue bath.”

His hot, wet tongue thrust inside her and Meg cried out. He rubbed his nose over her clit, making her see stars. His mouth worked her relentlessly, lapping at her until she melted.

Waves of pleasure rolled into her belly and breasts. Her heels dug into the sheets, bowing her shoulders into the mattress as she thrashed her head on the soft pillow.

He lifted his face from her and she clutched his head in protest. “Touch your nipples, pussycat.”

She obeyed, rolling the stiff peaks between her thumb and fingers, mindless of anything but his lips on her. He lowered his mouth to her clit and sucked her deep, humming vibrating murmurs of pleasure.

“Now who’s purring, big guy?”

He grinned at her, his mouth slick. “We’re past purring—time for you to scream.”

Two of his fingers slipped inside her, filling and stretching her. He flicked his tongue over her clit and pushed his fingers in and out. She ground her hips against his face. The liquid sounds of their passion caught her in a torrent and plunged her over a dark waterfall, her scream echoing to the bottom.

Meg’s eyelids were too relaxed to open as she heard Rick go into the bathroom. Every bone in her body had melted into the fluffy bed. She needed something to stiffen her up, and Rick was the man for the job.

RICK WIPED HIS MOUTH on a hotel towel and shed the rest of his clothing before digging into his bag for a condom. He didn’t usually go down on a woman the first time he had sex with her, preferring to leave that until they got to know each other’s bodies. But it was a night for firsts all around. Michiko responded to him like no one else had, coming with his mouth on her as if they’d been lovers for months, not minutes. He practically sprinted from the bathroom, a strip of condoms dangling from his hand. He skidded to a stop, staring at her exotic, erotic beauty. She had been so tight around his fingers he wondered desperately if he could fit inside her. He ripped open the condom package with his teeth and slid the latex over his penis.

“Wow.” Her green eyes were wide.

“I’ll be careful, I promise. I’ll go slow.” He practically babbled in his eagerness to sheathe himself in her.

She spread her legs, showing him her wet pink sex framed with black silky hair. “I’d like it better if you go fast.”

“Thank you.” He practically dove on top of her, catching his weight on his forearms just in time to keep from crushing her. Shifting his hips, he sank into her hot depths. She tightened around him, and he had to fight from coming right then. She gave a moan. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, Rick.” She twisted under him, her tiny muscles clenching his cock until he wanted to throw back his head and howl. Her sleek legs wrapped around his waist as he plunged and withdrew. He stopped for a second to grab for control and she spiked him in the ass with one of her high heels.

“Ouch!”

“Keep going!”

Served him right for having her wear the sexy shoes to bed. Although he was on top, she tried to take the upper hand. He angled his thrusts, pushing deep and shallow, building her desire then easing her down. He pulled all the way out and brushed the head of his shaft across her moist folds.

She was close to coming again, squirming and moaning despite his teasing. A peach-colored flush spread from her breasts to her face, her mouth gasping and rosy. “More, more.”

“Not until you’re ready.” He slid over her clit, his balls rubbing against the entrance to her slick passage.

She raised her head and bit his nipple.

He reared back in shock, inadvertently driving his cock deep inside her. Locking her legs around him, she lifted her ass and grabbed his balls with her hand.

“Michiko!” He threw away all pretence of finesse and slammed against her. Her hot sheath contracted around him as she rubbed her diamond-tipped breasts against his chest. Her fingers cupped his sac, squeezing and molding him until he swelled and threaten to burst. He gritted his teeth, anxious to get her to climax before he lost it.

He balanced on one forearm and rubbed the swollen nub right above where his body joined hers. She gave a short scream and scratched her nails across his shoulders. He winced, but the stinging sensations spurred a fresh rush of blood to his cock. He fingered her harder and nipped at her neck. She thrashed her head as he licked her earlobe, whispering dark, erotic words into the curve of her ear. “Come hard for me, so my cock can explode in your slick little pussy.”

Michiko emitted a wordless cry as she shuddered under him, her tight wetness sucking him in with thousands of tiny pulsations.

He lost control and pounded against her, sinking into a sensual abyss. Just as he was drowning in her mysterious depths, he shattered, calling her name in a long groan. The waves of his orgasm buffeted him until he could hardly breathe.

She held him tight as he gasped for air and collapsed on top of her. The salty scent of sex rose around them. He withdrew carefully, disposing of the condom before he rolled over.

“Rick?” She leaned over him, her thick hair tickling his face. “Are you okay?”

“Mmmm.” He pulled her onto his chest, nuzzling her soft neck and breathing in her spicy perfume. “Better than okay.”

“Me, too.” She rested her cheek on his shoulder. “I’m so glad we did this tonight.”

That sounded like she wasn’t planning on seeing him again. “Tonight and many more, sweetheart,” he emphasized. She’d wrung him dry and he couldn’t stay awake any longer. “Need a quick nap.” He yawned. “We’ll go back to the reception together.”

She nodded sleepily. “Back to the reception.”

He drifted into oblivion, dreaming of the gorgeous woman he held in his arms.