rubbed his back in soothing patterns. When his breathing returned to normal, he moved to the side, his limp sex sliding out of her.
“Daniel, that was amazing,” Lily said. “But I’m not done with you yet. You promised me a full night of love.”
“You shall have it. I just need a few minutes.” He sighed and laid one arm across his forehead.
“Very well.” Lily sat up, left the bed, and came back with the platter of fruit. She pushed a grape between his lips. “You require sustenance. You’ll need lots of energy for what I have in mind.”
“God help me,” Daniel said, swallowing the grape. “You drive me mad, do you know that?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It’s the highest compliment I’ve ever given.” He smiled, and then sat up next to her and fed her a strawberry.
Lily left the bed again and came back with a glass of wine. She was so beautiful. He should have had flowers brought in for her. Lilies, of course.
“Where did your name come from?” he asked
“Oh,” Lily groaned. “Don’t get me started. My mother’s name is Flora, which is a Latin form of flower, and her sister’s name is Iris. Mummy decided all of her daughters would have flower names also, hence Lily and Rose. Thank God Auntie Iris decided to forego the horrid tradition.”
“So I suppose you won’t be naming any daughters Begonia? Or Creeping Charlie?”
“Creeping Charlie isn’t a flower, you silly.” She laughed. “But no. I prefer more classic names.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Caroline. Or Hilary. Or your mother’s name, Morgana. It’s a derivative of Morgaine, who was King Arthur’s half sister, the sorceress. Her exotic beauty reminds me of a sorceress. It fits her.”
“I think your name fits you.”
“How so?”
“Well, calla lilies symbolize beauty, and yellow lilies symbolize gaiety, both of which you possess in abundance.” He smiled, winking. “Of course, there are also white lilies.”
“What do they symbolize?”
He pulled her to him and cupped her full breasts in his hands. “Virginity,” he whispered in her ear, and then plunged his tongue into its depth.
Lily gave him a punch in the arm. “You are such a rogue! I’m afraid I’m not living up to my name.” She pushed him back until he was lying on the bed and fell on top of him, straddling him. “Then again, what fun would that be?” She wiggled her hips, teased his cock with her wetness, and then moved aside.
“You’re leaving now?”
“I’ll be right back,” she said, and she was, carrying a small plate on which she had placed several spoonfuls of the contents of the other fondue pot. “This looks amazingly like chocolate.”
“It is. I had the cook melt some of the Belgian truffles with a little fresh cream. It’s decadent.”
“Is it now?” She swirled her finger into the creamy mass and licked it seductively.
God. His cock ached.
“Oh yes. Decadent. You must try it, Daniel.”
He sat up, ready to dip his own finger into the chocolate, but she pushed him away.
“I think you’ll try it another way.” She circled her fingers in the dark mixture again. Slowly she spread the warm chocolate onto her erect nipples.
Daniel’s arousal throbbed. “Dear Lord.” He lowered his lips to her breasts and licked the sweet confection from her hard nubs, gently sucking.
She threaded her fingers through his hair. “Oh my. The warmth of the chocolate, and then your tongue. Sucking. Yes, suck my nipple. Just like that. More. More.”
Daniel’s cock was ready to explode. He spread more chocolate onto her nipples and ravished them again, biting and nipping, twirling his tongue in intricate patterns around her rosy circles. The creaminess of the melted chocolate and the silky texture of her areolas combined in a sweet, fiery frenzy.
“Oh, Daniel. I feel that all the way down in my…”
He looked up and met her blazing cognac gaze. “In your pussy, love?”
“Yes, but I can’t say that word.” She blushed a rosy pink.
“What do you prefer, then? Cunny? Quim? Boite aux lettres?”
“None of—” She jerked her head. “Boite aux lettres?”
Daniel smiled. “It’s French, for letterbox.”
“I know what it means. Goodness, I’ve studied French. It’s just— Why in the world would anyone call it a letterbox?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. I prefer pussy. Your pussy.” He stroked her folds. “The tastiest, reddest, most beautiful pussy ever created.”
“Perhaps I can make it even tastier.” She swirled her fingers in the chocolate again and then liberally covered her cunt with chocolate.
“Oh my God.” She was something, his Lily. So saucy and irreverent, yet