The Dragon Tamer by Jane Bonander

Author:Jane Bonander
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
ISBN: 9781626815001
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2014-11-06T16:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

Dante strode through the small woods, picking up branches, breaking some off from dead trees.

What in the hell had happened? She’d aroused him, and she’d done nothing more than innocently touch him and listen to him talk about his past.

But this was Eleanor, for Christ’s sake, not bawdy Marguerite, or seductive Theresa, or lusty Lorraine. This was a woman who didn’t know the first thing about seduction. Not the first thing!

She didn’t know that to arouse a man, she could lodge a plum in the entrance to her vagina and insist that he suck it out with his mouth.

She didn’t understand that all she needed to do was spread a drop of honey on each nipple, and a man would go wild licking it off. Or drizzle liquor between her breasts, allowing it to pool in her navel, and lower, then demand that a man lap it up.

She didn’t know that there were more positions to making love than even he could count.

He doubted she was aware that one way to please a man was to take his erection into her mouth and slowly move it up and down, occasionally flicking the end of it with her tongue. She surely didn’t realize that all she would have to do was ask, and a man would use his tongue on her as well. Gladly. Happily.

But he also knew that mistresses were best used for such purposes. Seldom had he heard of a man who did such things with his wife, although surely, if he were married, he would insist on it.

And she didn’t realize that so much of what he had learned about sexual pleasure had come from the writings and carvings of wise old men who had lived in India and China centuries ago.

He stopped and drew in a breath, adjusting his erection behind his trousers. Just thinking about having sex aroused him so much, he almost felt like spending like a boy. He cursed Eleanor for making him think about it, talk about it, yet be unable to do it.

With an armful of branches and twigs, he started back toward their camp. But when he cleared the trees, he stopped and stared. Through the fog, he saw that Eleanor was shedding the flannel shirt. Dante stood, silent as stone, and watched, marveling at what had, until now, been hidden beneath layers and layers of starchy, black clothing.

She bent to pick up her chemise, her full, round breasts jiggling slightly as she moved. They were perfect. And in the cool morning air, her nipples tightened into nubs—as hard as diamonds, he recalled.

Briefly she turned toward him, and he saw the dark patch of hair between her thighs. His arousal grew. He swallowed hard, ordering himself to turn away.

With a wry smile, he realized that he never had taken orders very well.

Her legs were long and slim, her ankles delicate and feminine. Her waist was small; her hips ample. Her buttocks round, dimpled, and delicious enough to eat. He was amazed, even shocked.

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