Honey Flava

Hideki flicked his head toward the flat-screen TV hanging on the wall. “There’s lots of interesting porn, if you like that. Or maybe you’d like to get something to play with.” He pointed to a small vending machine near the bathroom filled with assorted sex toys.

  Natsumi shook her head. “I’ve got a feeling you’re all I need. However, if you’re a ten-minutes-and-out type, I’ll make you buy me the most expensive thing in there.”

  Hideki chuckled. “Then it’s good I’ve worked my stamina up to eleven minutes.”

  Natsumi giggled and pulled him back down to her lips, her heart pounding faster as his fingers tickled up and down her inner thigh. She could feel his erection pressed against her other leg and gave it a taunting bump with her thigh.

  Hideki moved his hand up, rubbing his thumb over the outside of her drenched thong. He drew back, smirking down at her. “Has it been a while?”

  Natsumi opened her eyes, blinking rapidly for a second before her brain could compute his words. She blushed and glanced away. “Um…yes.”

  Hideki grazed his lips over hers. “You don’t have to be shy. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman, too.”

  She gave him a suspicious look. “What do you mean, with a woman?”

  Hideki shrugged nonchalantly. “Normally, when I want sex, I call my lover. But he’s been so busy lately that he never has time to see me. Don’t worry. He doesn’t care if I take other lovers, as long as they’re not men. He’s married with two daughters himself.”

  Natsumi smiled up at him. “I should have known. You’re too beautiful to restrict yourself to one gender.”

  Hideki laughed. “Thank you, but I don’t really think about things like gender when it comes to sex. The only thing that’s important about sex is that it feels good.”

  “I think there are more important things than just that,” Natsumi grumbled. “You should care, at least a little bit, about the other person.”

  “You think so? I’ve had sex with people I don’t even like, and it still felt good.” Hideki nuzzled against her neck. “You’re very romantic. If that’s what you believe, then you must care about me; even if it’s just a little bit. Eh, Natsumi-chan?”

  Natsumi lifted her lips to him, deciding to answer him with a sensual kiss.

  Hideki moved the saturated fabric of her thong aside and smeared her wetness over her swollen clit with his index and middle fingers. He massaged it, in gentle circular motions, then slid the same fingers down and pushed them deep inside her. Natsumi moaned at having his touch enter her and thrust down on his hand. Hideki pressed his thumb to her clit, rubbing it while he pumped his two fingers in and out of her. With his free hand, he unfastened her bra and pushed up her camisole. He lowered his head to her breasts, setting his tongue and teeth to work on one erect nipple.

  Natsumi writhed under his lust-filled assault, his skill, his confidence, his aggressiveness, making her forget her own inhibitions. She wanted him to make her come. She wanted him to take her, pound into her, leave her weak and shaking.

  Hideki felt her muscles beginning to tighten, her thrusts on his soaked fingers becoming more desperate, causing his cock to leak anxious drops inside his pants.

  Natsumi snapped her hand down, clenching his biceps with a high, loud cry as she climaxed, the electric pleasure taking control of her, leaving her panting on the bed until the last of it pulsed away.

  Hideki hovered his lips over hers, enjoying the moment of her ecstasy, before easing his fingers out and climbing off the bed.

  Natsumi opened her eyes, seeing him pushing his black pants down to reveal his cock, long with an elegant curve, its head glistening with eagerness. She scrolled up to his toned abdomen, his lithe body letting her know that he wasn’t one to tire easily.

  Hideki paused in tearing open a condom and smirked. “Is it good?”

  Natsumi brushed her fingertips up the silken-soft skin of his length. “Perfect.”

  “Thanks. I like it a lot, too.” Hideki laughed and set to rolling on the condom. Before he had it on, Natsumi had thrown her camisole over her head and wiggled out of her skirt. He stepped toward her, running his fingers through her hair. “How would you like to start?”

  Natsumi met his eyes. “From behind.”

  Hideki gave her a wink and a thumbs-up. “Nice choice.”

  Natsumi smiled, wondering how anyone could look so sexy and adorable at the same time.

  Hideki put his lips to hers and crawled on the bed. Natsumi went down on her back, breaking the kiss to roll onto her stomach. Hideki brushed her hair to the side and grazed his lips across the back of her neck. He drifted his lips lower, kissing her shoulder blades. He moved to the center of her back, sliding his tongue down her spine to her tailbone, kissing over her cheeks and nibbling at the soft skin where her leg met her body. He slipped lower, licking down her right leg and coming back up her left.

  Natsumi felt his knee nudging her thighs farther apart and shifted onto her hands and knees. At the feel of his wrapped head pushing against her entrance, she moaned softly. In one firm thrust, he dived inside her, the force of it driving the breath from her.

  Hideki clutched her hips. The tight, drenched, heated confines of her seemed intense enough to melt the condom. He pushed deeper, pulling her back by her hips while moving his forward, inching in until he was buried to his base inside her. He moved in short, easy thrusts, stretching and opening her to him.

  Natsumi rocked back on her knees, grinding in rhythm with him. Just as she began to get used to the steady motion, his next thrust came harder, his fingers biting into her hips. She grabbed the headboard with both hands and slammed back toward him.

  Hideki grinned, yanking her back as he rammed forward. He scratched the short fingernails of one hand down her back, pounding hard and steady, making her groan and gasp with each thrust. He brought his upper body over her and pulled her right hand away from the headboard, moving it down between her legs. He eased his thrusts to rhythmic, deep pumping and placed her hand so she could feel him gliding in and out of her.

  He put his lips to her ear, his voice coming soft and throaty. “Feels incredible, doesn’t it?”

  The surge of heat from his words and feeling them connected together gave her a dizzying rush so all she could do was choke out a stuttering “Y-yes.”

  Hideki brushed his fingers over her clit. Natsumi pressed his hand in place. At her bold demand, Hideki felt the first hint of his burgeoning climax and matched the stroking of his fingers to the thrusting of his hips. He nipped at the back of her neck; a groan that sounded more like a growl rumbled in his throat. He licked down the side of her neck, gave the curve a light bite, and thrust harder. A high, choked gasp came from her, with her muscles clamping around his already sensitive cock.

  Natsumi’s head swam with the euphoria of his ardent thrusts, the firm massaging of his fingers on her clit, his groans getting louder with each thrust. Her climax began growing, her body trembling as it started to take control. She cried out, bucking back hard against him as she came. Hideki slammed deep with a yell, his own climax breaking free.

  He lingered inside her, taking a moment to catch his breath before slowly easing his length out and climbing off the bed. Natsumi collapsed under the blankets, her arms and legs feeling too weak to hold her. She looked toward the bathroom as Hideki walked out, seeing he had a fresh condom package in his hand and realizing this had just been a precursor.

  Hideki slipped under the covers and lay on his back, pulling her close to him with one arm. “Natsumi-chan, would it be okay if I asked a favor of you?”

  Natsumi draped her arm across his chest. “Of course.”

  “Would you not come to the club after tonight? I’d rather you not be one of my regular customers. I wouldn’t feel right earning commission off my lover’s money.”

  Natsumi sat up, trying to get her stunned mind to function. “Lover?”

  Hideki nodded. “Yes, unless you don’t want to see me after this. I’d
understand, since I keep other women company. And there’s my other lover, of course.”

  Natsumi looked into his eyes. “I would love to see you after this. I won’t make any complaints about your life, but you have to do the same for me. Right now, my life is for me, not for starting a relationship. I’m sorry if that sounds cold.”

  Hideki twisted a strand of her hair around his index finger. “It’s not cold. We’ll take each day as it comes. Agreed?”

  Natsumi nodded and slid up his body, giving him a passionate kiss.

  Hideki tangled his fingers deeper in her hair, wondering what each day would bring them.

  Dragon’s Breath

  ANNE ELIZABETH

  HANDS BRUSHED THE SUDS, gently rubbing them with caressing strokes from her skin. She was being dried, tended, and her brown eyes drifted shut. He fondled her, and it was her job to take it, to accept each indulgent touch and every decadent whim. The decision was his, because tonight she gave him his greatest desire: the gift of her, to do with as he pleased.

  “Ginger, girl, open wide.” His voice was mild as he waited for her to comply. His Zen-like roots were well hidden in the blandness of his request. “Be good, my geisha girl, and don’t make me raise my voice.”

  A smile danced on her lips before she parted the cherubic, plum-shaped form and performed as bid. Her tongue lay flat, and her teeth showed behind the tease of a smile.

  Candy—crystallized ginger—was placed inside. She held it in the center, cupped it with the sides of her tongue, and waited for his next words.

  “Indulge, my sweet. Enjoy the fire.”

  Rolling the treat on her tongue, she pushed it to her teeth and bit down. Succulent heat filled her mouth, and she breathed in—to draw the dragon’s breath. It filled her senses: the smell of citrus, the bite of heat, and the score of fire. Out it flew to encompass her sensory perception until it was pulled reflexively, with a breath, down her throat. Like the dimensional creature that traversed between the spirit and physical planes, it took her back and forth, and she felt as if she traveled on wings.

  They reached for her then, those hands of his, and picked her up. Took her from the bathhouse toward the temple. She lay over his shoulder, but the burn of ginger preoccupied her, made her too consumed to be thoughtful of jostling against him, until it was too late and the ginger was gone.

  But when it was gone, she became hyperaware of everything.

  Feet touched cold, as she was placed—righted—onto the center of the dais. Air chilled her skin and gooseflesh rose. There was something eerie in the familiarity, and yet she knew she had never been to this place before.

  He moved around the room and paced around the dais.

  She watched him, intrigued.

  The look he gave her said she shouldn’t take notice.

  She bowed her head and looked away. Couldn’t ask what he was doing. She didn’t dare believe what he might want or even contemplate what he planned to do. Images ran through her mind from ancient rites of ceremonial thunder, from naming and ownership to battle and celebration. No others were here to witness this event, and nothing she could see would mark this day on her flesh. Yet, here she stood, naked, clean of cosmetics and clothes. No mask of makeup distracted her, no shawl wrapped over her breasts with their perpetually hard nipples and draped down to her small hips. Nothing could conceal her figure or distract from this moment.

  “You excite me.” His voice was low, raspy.

  Blood rushed her cheeks, and she could feel them redden. Emotion seemed a strange cover and yet she felt warmed by it.

  “Spread your legs.” The order was loud and it filled the room.

  She took a step, widened her legs by a foot. A mixture of defiance and excitement made her push her hips toward him.

  “More.”

  Legs moved, and she lifted her arms to wrap them around her waist.

  “No. Arms at your side. So charming.”

  She nodded and made them be still next to her. Her eyes darted from him to the floor, then began to search the room for clues. She was too nervous to push him for answers, as if he would explain the chain of events—what might come—now that he was in control. She felt truly vulnerable and exposed.

  The design of the room slowly sank in. Jade was laid from floor to ceiling with two pillars on the dais next to her and six more on each side of the room. Symbols graced the four corners. A temple room—what she would have done with it, she did not know—the place, the room, even the man before her, held such immeasurable power she felt humble before it. He was a rarity, a former Keeper of the Temple Ways, and he still carried that spiritual deepness in his handsome, finely honed skin.

  Clap.

  The sharp sound made her jump and brought her eyes immediately to him.

  He rubbed his hands together, as if the smack of flesh on flesh had been pleasing to him. Brown eyes held her own; except his were sharper like a bright light—a color that changed depending on his mood.

  She watched, wide-eyed, unwilling to take her eyes from him, trying not to blink, trying not to let her imagination run away with her: needing to focus on him and her.

  Here she stood, naked in a room filled with jade; filled with him.

  The torches on the walls flickered, and one spat out sparks.

  “Arms up.”

  Like a butterfly opening her wings, she dramatically lifted her arms. In all things, in all ways, she wanted to communicate: her beauty, her ability to rise to the occasion, and the fragile nature of form. She gave him a heart-filling grin.

  “Lovely.” The appreciation in his voice was strong. “Such thoughtfulness. I will truly enjoy the gift of this eve.”

  A smile was not just an expression when it came from that secret place. It was the lingering evidence of lust and languorous emotions, the one that took compliments of beauty and wrapped them in silk to be examined and enjoyed further, another day, in another time, when such gifts may be unwound, savored, and prized.

  “I prefer it when you smile. You are so beautiful.”

  His preference mattered to her. The significance of her smile was treasured, the gift of this response so cherishingly shared. “Thank you…”

  “Master.” His tone was firm.

  “Thank you, master.” Those words felt too good to her.

  An indulgent smile filled his features, and for a moment lips and cheeks looked so sweet—almost boyish—before they melted like sugar dissolving in water. The blaze in his eyes became so intense and hot, as if he could morph her form, draw it away, and make it into another. Perhaps she would be able to travel through dimensions like the dragons.

  In two steps he took the platform and stood beside on her the dais. From his waist, he drew a long golden rope.

  With deft fingers, he began at the shoulder and wove the rope—over and around, tucked, pulled, then over and around again—until it reached her wrist. The series of H loops covering her made her flesh plump slightly over the sides, and she watched as he made an intricate series of knots and loops to cover her hand before attaching the rope to a metal ring on the side of the pillar. He moved to the other side and repeated the procedure. His fingers were elegant and swift as he made the loops into a golden crochet pattern over her skin.

  After he had secured that hand to the opposite pillar, he moved behind her and gathered her waist-length jet hair. Fingers combed through the heavy silk, and she dropped her head back to enjoy the gift of his play. Moving the strands here and there, he touched the nape of her neck and massaged the tender flesh there.

  She sighed.

  A very male chuckle came from behind her, and the hair was brushed back from her ear. “Tell me how you feel.”

  “Happy.”

  Fingers trailed down her side. “Yes, soft and precious.” Over her hip and down her buttocks, they moved. “But this is about what I want. Concentrate on this.” They slid between her thighs and cupped her.

  A moan escaped from her lips.

  “Hmm
m, do you like that my pretty, my Ginger girl?”

  The fiery candy had long been swallowed, and the breath—that distinct heat of the dragon—was gone, but she could almost swear it pulsed its fire into her veins.

  The presence of his hand drew that dragon magic to him, until it was all she could do to fight herself, to not rock into his heat.

  “When you fight this, you fight me.” He squeezed again.

  She cried out and rocked herself forward onto him.

  Fingers moved, shaped to her, so her clit had something to catch, to make its wish come on, to bloom into fullness. The other hand snaked around the side of her and caressed her breast, teasing the skin, until the nipple drew tight. Those talented fingers drew her nipple out and plumped it, before reverently holding her in his hand.

  The dual sensations made her body whimper its pleasure as she made small moans of delight.

  “Yes, my sweet Ginger, bring your crystal-covered pearls for me.”

  Her body rocked to his command and spasmed in a rush of need.

  “That’s my sweet. Thank you for answering my call.”

  He came to stand in front of her. With one hand, he dropped the robe that had covered him. This handsome former monk brought a hand to his mouth and tasted her.

  She arched toward him, as if her lips might be where that hand had been.

  His lips gleamed with her cum. His tongue licked the length of that succulent mouth and he smiled, one of those rare boyish grins. “Sweet. Like my Ginger, all sugary with a bite of fire at the end.” Lowering the hand to his cock, he rubbed the rest of her wet against him.

  Her dark gaze locked to that gorgeous cock. It bounced in delight and she licked her mouth reflexively in want.

  He tilted her chin up to him. “Soon, my darling, it will come. For now, you will do as I wish.”

  She nodded and lowered her eyes.

  Fingers squeezed her chin. Her gaze snapped automatically to his. “It is not subservience I want or seek, it is your intelligence, wisdom, and grace. Only a strong woman—one who is the mistress of her own destiny—might make a gift such as this so precious. Nothing less than the gift of your best is welcome here. So bring me the heat of your passion, the fullness of your desire, and the most exuberant of your need and then let me slake of my own desire.”