Don’t kiss me,” she said warningly. “I don’t intend to,” he replied, smiling a little. “I don’t have my whip and chair with me.

He needed a woman. Bad.

A thousand thoughts ran through my mind. Well, at least six or seven, anyway, because a thousand thoughts are a lot. Try counting your own thoughts and see how long it takes you to get to a thousand.

I’m really not hungry,” she repeated, lifting the coffee cup and inhaling the fragrant steam before sipping. “Just a few bites,” he cajoled, taking his own place beside her. “You need to keep up your strength for tonight.” She gave him a heated, slumberous look, remembering her fantasy. “Why? Are you planning something special?” “I suppose I am,” he said consideringly. “It’s special every time we make love.

A village somewhere was missing it's idiot.

What are you doing?” she cried in protest. “Playing,” he said, the single word rough, almost guttural.

Pleasure was a siren, luring her to experience more