BESTSELLING & AWARD-WINNING AUTHOR SELENA KITT
HALF A MILLION NAUGHTY BOOKS SOLD IN 2011
GUARANTEED QUALITY - THE CREAM AT THE TOP OF EROTICA!
Celia is in Paris trying to acclimate while she explores "green building" for her American company. She meets Ronan, a true Frenchman, and gets an up close and personal lesson in the French language...and love.
Warning: This title contains erotic situations, graphic language, sex and - mon dieu! - the sweetest, sexiest pairing between a Frenchman and a non-French speaking woman you may ever read!
EXCERPT:
"Another lesson, chérie," he said, his mouth positioned in just the right spot--I could feel the movement of his lips as he talked.
"Please, Ronan," I begged. I could feel my wetness flowing downward, toward the mattress. "Please."
"Please...oui...we start there...s'il vous plait. Say it, Celia," he urged. I hesitated, unsure. "I love hearing you say it...please."
"S'il vous plait," I whispered and he groaned, kissing my clit. I arched my back. "Oui, s'il vous plait, Ronan."
"Clito," he informed me, finding the button with his tongue and flicking it.
"Yes, clit," I moaned, cupping my breasts in my hands.
"And this..." He used his hand to cover my mound. "This is la chatte."
"Ooooh, my pussy." I thrilled to the sound of the French word, familiar--the common word for cat!--now naughty, reaching my fingers down to spread it open for him.
"Ohhh, oui," he gasped. "Une belle chatte!" He gently rubbed against it with his cheek. I wiggled.
"Mmmm a pretty pussy...une belle chatte." I closed my eyes and opened up to the sensation.
"Mon Dieu, I like hearing you say it. Say it, chérie...ma chatte."
"Ma chatte...my pussy...yes." Spreading it wider.
"Do you want me to eat your pussy?" he asked, his voice low.
I'd never heard him talk that way, and the sound of it in his mouth was provocative.
"Yes," I hissed.
"Then say it...in French...mangez ma chatte," he prompted. I swallowed, feeling his breath right there, his mouth moving against my wet and swollen lips.
"Mangez...mangez ma chatte," I whispered. He groaned again, rewarding me with his tongue probing deep, drinking me in.
HALF A MILLION NAUGHTY BOOKS SOLD IN 2011
GUARANTEED QUALITY - THE CREAM AT THE TOP OF EROTICA!
Celia is in Paris trying to acclimate while she explores "green building" for her American company. She meets Ronan, a true Frenchman, and gets an up close and personal lesson in the French language...and love.
Warning: This title contains erotic situations, graphic language, sex and - mon dieu! - the sweetest, sexiest pairing between a Frenchman and a non-French speaking woman you may ever read!
EXCERPT:
"Another lesson, chérie," he said, his mouth positioned in just the right spot--I could feel the movement of his lips as he talked.
"Please, Ronan," I begged. I could feel my wetness flowing downward, toward the mattress. "Please."
"Please...oui...we start there...s'il vous plait. Say it, Celia," he urged. I hesitated, unsure. "I love hearing you say it...please."
"S'il vous plait," I whispered and he groaned, kissing my clit. I arched my back. "Oui, s'il vous plait, Ronan."
"Clito," he informed me, finding the button with his tongue and flicking it.
"Yes, clit," I moaned, cupping my breasts in my hands.
"And this..." He used his hand to cover my mound. "This is la chatte."
"Ooooh, my pussy." I thrilled to the sound of the French word, familiar--the common word for cat!--now naughty, reaching my fingers down to spread it open for him.
"Ohhh, oui," he gasped. "Une belle chatte!" He gently rubbed against it with his cheek. I wiggled.
"Mmmm a pretty pussy...une belle chatte." I closed my eyes and opened up to the sensation.
"Mon Dieu, I like hearing you say it. Say it, chérie...ma chatte."
"Ma chatte...my pussy...yes." Spreading it wider.
"Do you want me to eat your pussy?" he asked, his voice low.
I'd never heard him talk that way, and the sound of it in his mouth was provocative.
"Yes," I hissed.
"Then say it...in French...mangez ma chatte," he prompted. I swallowed, feeling his breath right there, his mouth moving against my wet and swollen lips.
"Mangez...mangez ma chatte," I whispered. He groaned again, rewarding me with his tongue probing deep, drinking me in.