He moaned, he groaned, he gasped and as his body collapsed against mine, he shuddered and let out what could have been a final breath. I waited, crushed under the weight of him, waiting for him to breathe. It took forever, I was about to shove against his shoulder and send him to his back to start CPR when his chest heaved and I heard him take in a deep shuddering breath. Lifting to his elbows, his hands caging my head, he whispered against my lips, “I am so sorry. I used you badly. Did I hurt you?”
I looked up into mesmerizing gray green eyes that only moments ago had been closed tightly in pleasure. Now they were scanning my face for signs of distress and he was clearly remorseful.
“I’m fine, you are a bit . . . mmm . . . large, at certain angles. We probably shouldn’t use positions that shorten the vagina when you are so . . . ummm, shall we say, needy?”
He laughed and eased himself off of me, “Duly noted. God, I needed you, Tess. Wanted you. Thought mostly about you—all damned day. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been able to meet me here.”
“You would have had to go to the slave market and find yourself another concubine.”
He chuckled as he tucked himself back into his trousers and stripped off his shirt. “We’re actually very close to where the slaves used to be auctioned off, just two or three blocks from here.”
He sat in a chair and took off his shoes and socks then looked up to see me trying to get off the high bed. “Hold on, I’ll help you.”
Using my toes, I was feeling for the floor when I lost my balance and slid off the bed. He caught me as I stumbled and he gathered me into his arms against his warm, broad chest. “I am so glad you could meet me here. You can’t know how much it pleasures me to see you again.” His lips took mine in a soft, gentle kiss. The frantic passion was abated for now and in its place was a heady warm glow.
Releasing my arms, he ran a finger down my nose. “I have a present for you.”
“Hmm, really? What is it?”
He walked over to his open suitcase and unzipped an inside pocket. He took out a black velvet pouch and walked over to me with a big grin on his face. He looked for all the world like a Greek god, tall, bronzed, a broad chest tapering to a slim waist and the hair on his head so thick and wavy you just wanted to run your fingers through it to set that one white wave to rights.
“I bought it in Malaysia many years ago and have been waiting to ask a very special woman to wear it for me. I believe you’re that woman—you be sure to let me know if you’re not.”
Curious, I stood next to him as he opened the velvet pouch and tipped it. A stream of gold flowed into his hand and I could tell that it was an elaborate piece of jewelry of some kind. “It looks like a necklace,” I said.
“No, not a necklace.” He pulled at the chain where it had pooled in his palm and I saw two long chains and one short one. Then he showed me three tiny, ornate, goldfiligreed ornaments that were attached to the chains. Two looked like clips of some sort, and one was like a tiny raised button with what appeared to be tiny thumbscrews on the side. It was definitely an expensive piece of jewelry; it glimmered and shone like the finest gold.
“Hold it while I get you ready to put it on.” He put the whole thing in my palm and I was surprised by how light it was in my hand. I fingered the necklace as Roman began to unbutton my blouse. “What is this?” I held up one of the clips. “This isn’t . . .”
He had my blouse unbuttoned and off my shoulders and his thumb and forefinger were worrying one of my nipples. He grinned, “Yes, they’re exactly what you’re thinking—nipple clips.”
Before I could comment, he had reached over, taken the clip from between my fingers and attached it to my nipple. It stung for a second as it pinched tight then the sensation became a steady pressure. His hand moved to the other breast and his forefinger and thumb stretched and pulled on that nipple until he was satisfied it was pebbled enough, then that too, got a clip attached. Again, that sudden intake of air to deal with the initial tweak of pain, then the steady thrum of feeling. An intense link to my womb had just been established and I was vibrating inside.
I looked down at my chest, at the tiny clips pinching my nipples and at the chain connecting them. Two long chains fell in a Vee past my navel. I pulled them up and stared at the coupling at the bottom. “And this is for?” Suddenly I knew. “No! Unh unh, no.”
He took the long chain from my hand, slid his fingers to the end and fingered the little button-like ornament at the very end. He had a cat-ate-the-canary grin on his face and it was as wicked a grin as I’ve ever seen.
“Uh huh. I think you have correctly divined exactly where this little gem goes. With a flick of his fingers he popped open the button on my skirt and inched the zipper down until gravity took it to the floor leaving me naked from the waist down.
“Come over here,” he directed and I saw how this was going to go. He was lightly tugging on the chain sending shooting arcs of sensation to my nipples and forcing me in the direction he wanted me to go. He led me over to a chair and lifted one of my feet to the seat of it, careful to place it so that there was a large variance in my stance causing my thighs to be wide spread. He knelt between my thighs and looked up. “Nice, very nice,” he whispered as he examined me and ran his thumb over the area that housed my clitoris. With his tender caresses, it took only moments for my clitoris to make its presence known. “Ahhh, there it is, that little love jewel I love to suck on so much.” He leaned in just then and did just that. I moaned.
“I’m sorry, but this is not going to be a culminating experience, this is merely a sensory exploration and I need this little nub to be nice and hard in order to attach this piece.” With diligent care he stroked, laved, licked and suckled until he had me climbing the walls and apparently deemed me hard enough in that arena to attach the final clamp. Covering my tiny nubbin with the cage, he used the three tiny thumbscrews to secure it. When he was done, he licked me again, then backed up for another inspection, leaned in to lick again, then he took my whole labia into his mouth, clamp, clit and lips, and sucked hard. I shattered against his tongue and would have fallen to the floor with his mouth still attached to me if he hadn’t caught me and held me to him. As his mouth followed me to the floor, never once leaving the scene of the crime, he milked me until I came twice more.
After a few minutes, he scooped me up and carried me to the bed then climbed in behind me. He wrapped his arms around my tummy and pulled me against his chest. I could feel him hard and probing the crack of my ass, but all he did was hug me tightly to him and almost instantly we both fell asleep.
I was awakened by identical sensations in both nipples. Both were pebbling and so hard and ripe I thought they might burst. Yet I wasn’t in pain, just in a constant state of awareness and arousal. I looked down at my chest and saw Roman’s hand fisted between my breasts, gently tugging the chain away from my body and pulling my nipples taut. It was an incredibly erotic sight, his tanned masculine fist covered with black hairs tightly clenching and tugging on the gold chain. I knew he was looking over my shoulder and watching, which made it doubly erotic.
“So, is this what you make all your concubines wear?” I murmured.
“No, just the ones I want to punish.”
“Punish? This doesn’t seem like punishment. I kind of like it in fact.”
“Trust me, by the end of the evening, you’ll think of this as punishment. You’ll be begging me to put you out of your misery.”
“What do mean, by the end of the evening?”
“You’re wearing this when we go out to dinner.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, not at all. Every time you move, bend over, arch your back, or reach for something, you’re going to stretch the chain that goes from your breasts to your pussy, and it’s going to tug on your clit and arouse you. And the fact that I’m going to be across the table from you, knowing exactly what you’re feeling and what every movement is doing to you, is
going to make it even more pronounced. I can almost guarantee that you won’t let us get back to the room before you either shove my head between your legs or push me against a wall so you can climb onto my pole. Either of which I’ll be happy to do. As long as it’s before we get back to this room.”
His voice so husky and so cocksure was making me tremble with anticipation. However, I was not convinced that just by wearing this what-ever-it-was-called piece of jewelry that I would become so wanton that I would make him take me openly somewhere in the streets of Charleston.
“I’ve already been satisfied quite handily several times today. I think I can say with confidence that I think I’m good for the night.”
He chuckled against my ear and at the same time splayed his hand on my stomach. The chain that went from my nipples to the Vee between my thighs, was under his hand and I felt his baby finger go under it and slowly loop it around several times until it was snug and he was rhythmically tugging and awakening my clit. Two could play. I slid my arm behind and between us and cupped his sack. A long drawn out moan was my reward.
“How would the master feel about a little reciprocal torture?”
“Of the oral variety?” he asked in a hopeful voice.
“I’m the slave, you’re the master, and I aim to please,” I said as I untangled his hand from the chain, turned around and ran my tongue from his nipple to his navel.
“Well, you’re certainly aiming in the right direction.”
The gasp that filled the room when I finally took him into my mouth was very satisfying indeed. I had tongued him mercilessly for ten minutes, circling, grazing alongside, and getting close to, but never actually touching his jutting, pulsing cock. Just before I smoothed his foreskin down and took him into my mouth I noticed that the head was purple it was so engorged, and that pearls of moisture were beaded at the tip. I was going to suck him so dry that he would forget about our little game tonight. I was going to make him so tired that the last thing he was going to want to do tonight was arouse me again. Famous last words.
He held my head while he pumped against the back of my throat and I thought it amazing that he could caress my hair so lovingly while ramming himself so far down my throat I was choking to death. But it was over fairly quickly, so I needn’t have worried about dying.
Climbing off of him and making my way to the bathroom, he called after me. “Don’t think that’s going to get you off the hook tonight. That’s only priming the pump. I have plans for you my little love slave. You can shower with my jewelry on, just be careful, I’d hate to have to find a goldsmith who makes house calls, but I will if I have to. And before you dress, I want to inspect the connections again, I want you to get the full benefit of my present.”
I would have turned around and stuck my tongue out, but I couldn’t at the moment and he knew it.
Chapter Fifteen
Chain link Ishowered, mindful of course not to break his masterpiece. Then I laughed at my own pun—master-piece. This was all about the master, getting a piece. I fingered the fragile chains and even tugged on them a few times myself. As long as I didn’t arch my back or reach up or over, I thought I’d be just fine and win our little bet. I would not get so horny that I would jump him or beg him to jump me!
When I stepped out of the shower, he was waiting to dry me off; which he did very slowly and diligently. Then he carefully inspected each connection, making the adjustments he deemed necessary for my future “torture.”
I had brought a long black velvet gown that was lowcut both front and back with long slits on the sides. I was glad I had chosen it as I certainly didn’t want to have to worry about the impressions my new ornamentation might be making under a lesser fabric. The chains would certainly not show, even through the finest silk as they themselves were so fine, but the clips on my nipples would be another matter. Roman had reattached them so that the clips hung from the undersides of my nipples. At the time, I thought he was just trying to stimulate them differently, but now I saw that he had been most considerate; this was a private game we were playing.
As we walked down the hallway to the elevator I realized that I had to pace myself exactly right, too long a step and there was that tiny, jolting tug. And reaching up to check my hair caused a most um . . . delicious feeling.
Heads turned as we made our way through the lobby. Roman, back in his dark suit, with his stark white shirt open at the throat and the white stripe of his hair, was a stunning man. He carried himself in a military manner and women never failed to show their appreciation. For my part, I was quite the stunner, too. The stark black of my velvet dress and cloak against my pale skin, set off my yellow blonde hair and drew the eyes of the men. But tonight for some reason, the stares felt different. It was as if a part of my feminine allure was trying to communicate that I was a woman being held captive. I felt as if I was subliminally sending the message that I was a woman owned and mastered by the man at my side and that it was affecting everyone around us. Could I be imagining this? I didn’t think so. Roman’s presence was so commanding and assured that he was magnetically drawing all eyes.
When we were seated at the table I saw Roman stop and stare at me for the split second it took for me to bend at the waist to take my seat. His all-knowing smile went from ear-to-ear when I suddenly straightened and eased down in an entirely different manner. I could see the heat in his eyes and it unnerved me.
I allowed Roman to order for us and busied myself with looking out the window at the view. When the waiter had poured the wine and left, I noticed Roman use the flat of his hand around the bottom of the stem to pull the wineglass back from where it had been placed. He knew if I reached for it exactly what I would feel. I pulled it back the inch or two I needed by gathering the tablecloth to me. He chuckled.
We had a marvelous dinner of tomato bisque, asparagus soufflé, pasta primavera, and chocolate éclairs with fresh fruit for dessert. It thrilled me that he was so accommodating of my vegetarian lifestyle to the point that he shared it with me. After some Grand Marnier and coffee, he invited me to dance with him.
A small combo had installed itself at the piano bar and was playing wonderful jazz. I nodded and allowed him to come around and help me from my seat before leading me to the dance floor. I should have known it was a trap. As soon as we got to the dance floor, he turned and held his arms out. There was no way around it, I would have to put one arm on his shoulder, and the other in his hand. It would stretch the chains considerably. I smiled and complied, placing my head on his shoulder to hide my chagrin. He compounded it by wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close. Too close. He was aroused and his hardness was being pushed right up against the area of my body that was now raised and gaping open to receive him. As the song continued and we progressed around the dance floor, he rubbed himself against me creating a sensation I can only liken to a fire being kindled, catching, and then flaming out of control.
By the time the first set was over, I was damned near shaking with need. Roman had managed to abrade my nipples with his chest rubbing against mine and after having insinuated his knee between my thighs to do some fancy dips and shuffling moves, I was indeed aroused. Mightily.
“Ready to go to the room?” he asked with a smile. What did he have up his sleeve? He should be playing this the other way. He had to know he had me on the run, so to speak.
“Yeah, I am.” “I know you are,” he said in such a rich husky voice that I almost swooned right there on the spot.
“I can make it to the room,” I said defiantly.
“We’ll see.”
He took my hand and led me from the dance floor; we retrieved my purse from the table and walked out of the restaurant and to the elevator for our wing. Once inside, he shifted from beside me to behind me and as easy as you please, he ran his hand up under my gown and slid his finger into my slit. “I do so love that you don’t wear panties.” His finger found my encased nub, it was hard to miss now and never actually hidden away
anymore. Afew quick flutters with his middle finger sent me to my knees where he was ready to thrust into me. So there we were, dressed to the nines on our hands and knees in the elevator, my dress pulled up from the back, his hands on my hips and his cock pumping into me. It shouldn’t have happened, the whole scenario should have scared me to death and kept me from even considering any form of gratification, but as soon as his cock filled me, the thumb of one hand pressed in on my gold-encased clitoris while his other thumb rimmed my other hole and actually dared to press in! I came apart, actually sobbing while I convulsed.
There were only two floors, so we had reached our floor and the door had opened long ago. Fortunately, it was off-season and quite late so no one was about, it also helped that we were in a secluded and exclusive area of the hotel.
Roman tucked his erection into his pants and as soon as the elevator doors closed behind us I was in his arms and his mouth was covering mine with one passionate kiss after the other. He lifted me into his arms and carried me down the hall to our room, managed to get the key card out of his pocket and get us inside, before kicking the door closed behind us. I was placed on my knees on the carpet in the small entry foyer, my dress hiked back up over my hips and entered before the echo of the door closing had dissipated. Like a rutting animal who had searched high and low for his mate and now had found her, he took me. There was no subtlety to it, it was carnal and needy, and when he came inside me with my butt high in the air and him pulling and jerking me in quick tugs exactly where he needed me, I reveled in his guttural yell, his need of me so flagrant that this moment, if none other, labeled me his woman.
The Widows of Sea Trail-Tessa of Crooked Gulley Page 11