Free Mistral's Daughter by Judith Krantz

sensations that were
like a foreign language, heard for the first time and, mysteriously, under stood.   She bit her lips ashis tongue touched
the arch of her foot, outlining, exploring, bolder each second.   She moaned out loud as she felt his teeth
graze her heel, and she tried feebly to pull her feet out of his grasp, but he
onlytightened his hold.   She felt
her knees falling apart under the Japanese silk as his tongue ran up the calf
of one leg then up the other, finding that soft, private curve behind her
knees.
    "Stop it," she
gasped. "Please."
    Mistral stood up, a huge
figure in the dark, and gathered her in his arms.   He looked at her with a frown of
concentration.
    "Stop?   Are you sure?"   He kissed her lips fleetingly and drew back
so that he could see her face.   "Ah,
not so sure, not completely   sure,"
he sighed and kissed her mouth, its succulence both carnal and innocent, slowly
kissed those lips that stood out from her pale face like an opulent flower.
    Maggy's confusion and sudden
alarm disappeared under his kisses.   She
laughed, not just with pleasure, but with a new note in her voice, the outlaw
that had always lived within her rising to the surface.   Her lips became an outlaw's lips, her hands
an outlaw's hands as she caressed his powerful neck, and reached up for his
curly head to pull it down to her again.   She wriggled out of his arms, finding her feet, and boldly pressed all
her long length against his body.   They
stood together for a long, long moment, growing together like two tall trees,
swaying slightly as their lips parted, then almost immobile as they strained
together, seeking a knowledge beyond knowledge.   With a grunt of need, Mistral parted the heavy silk kimono, mad to touch
the body he knew only through his eyes, mad to feel her skin, to hold her
breasts in his hands, to learn the tight buds of her nipples with his
fingertips.   She spoke in a trance.   "Not here — inside."   Stumbling, unbuttoning his shirt as he
walked, he followed her to his bedroom, to that wide bed under the window
through which moonlight fell on the sheets.   In seconds he stood naked, erect, magnificent.
    "Let me look," she commanded
in such a tone of urgent curiosity that he stood still while she approached,
all her coltishness gone as she delicately ran her fingers over his shoulders
and his chest and down to his waist, lingering over the unfamiliar shapes and
textures, the sinewy muscles of his arms, the astonishingly hard points of
nipples that hid in the springy hair in his chest.   Only when she had satisfied herself, when his
body was no longer completely strange to her, did she untie the sash of the
kimono and let it fallto the floor.   She lay down on the bed, waiting for him.
    At last, Maggy thought, at
last.   She didn't submit to his hands,
riteencouraged them. Arching and stretching like a cat she played with
him, holding her breasts in her hands and offering them to his mouth, letting
him raven on them until, with a swift, lithe movement she withdrew and flung
herself at his chest, her lips seeking his nipples.   Imitating him, she sucked on them until he
almost screamed and held her off, unable to endure the excitement. "Ah, so
two can't play at that game?" she murmured and soon she had her answer, as
with unsteady hands, he parted her legs and bent over her, kneeling on the bed,
his hot open mouth questing between her thighs, his tongue flickering.   A vast silence seemed to envelop them.   Maggy found herself immobile, rigid, almost
without breath, as she waited, all playfulness gone.
    Still kneeling, sitting on
his heels, holding her waist in both hands, Mistral launched himself into her
body.   She was so moist that he was able
to advance several inches before he reached the harrier.   He persisted, not understanding, and got no
farther.
    "What ... ?" he
murmured, heat consuming him as he looked down at the darkness of the triangle
where they were joined.   He