Karen Robards

Oh, the pleasure of it! The exquisite wonder of his hot wet mouth moving over the tip of her breast, drawing in the distended nipple, suckling it like a babe. She felt a shaft of excitement shoot down between her thighs, where his thigh had taken up residence once again. As he kissed and suckled and nibbled she arched her back, pressing her breasts against him with wanton abandon, clutching his head with both hands in his hair as she rubbed herself against that marvelous thigh. . . .
Then one of his hands was sliding down from its play with her breasts stroking her stomach, a finger burrowing playfully into her navel before moving lower, hovering just above the soft triangle of hair that ached for his touch.
When still he hesitated her hips lifted in instinctive supplication, inviting his touch in a wordless gesture that was as old as woman. Still his fingers continued to trace tantalizing circles just above and around the sides, tickling her thighs, darting playfully close and then retreating.

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