When I'm With You Part V: When You Submit

by BETH KERY

  “No, ma chère. No,” he mumbled in a tight voice a moment later as she licked and sucked him clean. “It’s like stimulating a raw nerve doing that.”

  She blinked, coming back to herself. Reluctantly, she began to slide him out of her mouth. His penis was already overly sensitive in a post-climactic state. The vibrator combined with the enthusiastic cleaning with her lips and tongue was too much for the nerves in his satiated flesh. Much to her surprise, he halted her, however, holding her down with the hand on the back of her head. His expression was amused and self-deprecating when she met his stare.

  “It feels like too much, but it feels good, too,” he said. “You could probably have me coming again in the underside of five minutes. A man doesn't stand a chance with that mouth of yours, Elise.” His cock twitched between her smile. She tickled him lightly with the vibrator and his eyes flashed.

  She was more than game, if he was.

  His phone rang again in the distance. Lucien closed his eyes briefly in regret and released his hold on her head.

  “I should go, as much as I might wish otherwise.”

  Elise slowly, reluctantly slid her mouth off him. She bent her head to remove the buzzing vibrator and set it aside. He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her to him. Elise’s throat tightened as she breathed his scent and luxuriated in his embrace.

  “It meant more to me than you know, the way you expressed your desire,” he said near her skin as he kissed her temple. “You are always difficult to resist, but when you’re open and honest? Impossible.”

  A strange mixture of feeling rushed through her: embarrassment that she’d made herself so vulnerable, but also gratefulness that he’d recognized how difficult it’d been for her . . . and pleasure that she’d pleased him.

  Out of sheer habit, she opened her mouth to say something like, It was my pleasure, or worse yet, It wasn’t a big deal. But no, she wouldn’t diminish either the challenge she’d faced or the gift she’d given Lucien.

  She just looked up at him, her heart in her eyes. He blinked. The next thing she knew, he was kissing the daylights out of her and all rational thought vacated her brain.

  “Why do you always have to make things so hard, Elise?” he said next to her lips a moment later.

  “Because you always make things such a challenge for me?”

  His mouth curved into a smile.

  “I never knew walking out a door could be so difficult until this moment,” he said soberly. He dropped his hands, frowning. “You will do what I said? Every night at eleven thirty?”

  Her cheeks heated. “Yes.”

  “Good. I will enjoy picturing you, knowing you are testing yourself with only my voice in your head to instruct you. I hope in addition to what I said, you’ll also hear me saying how lovely you are,” he murmured, stroking her cheek. “How irresistible. It’ll make me feel as if we’re together, knowing you’re hearing me in your mind, even if we are an ocean apart,” he said before he stood and pulled up his clothing.

  She pulled her dress up over her breasts, all the while thinking to herself that she heard his patient, guiding voice in her head with increasing frequency even without his instructions tonight. She’d begun to internalize his steadfast reassurance. He was cultivating the courage and confidence in herself that she so craved.

  Elise was beginning to suspect that was what Lucien had intended all along.

  * * *

  The next night she returned to the penthouse late. Thursday nights were often packed with late-nighters at Fusion. Although the kitchen closed before the bar, they still prepared dishes later on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights than they did earlier in the week. Denise had needed to leave early, and Elise had volunteered to stay. She didn’t mind. She enjoyed her work, and it kept her distracted from Lucien’s absence.

  The penthouse felt depressingly empty when she entered a little after eleven. She’d already eaten her dinner at Fusion, so she headed straight back to the bedroom. On the way to the bathroom to change, her gaze lingered on the large, three-drawer nightstand next to Lucien’s bed. He’d put the vibrator she was supposed to use at eleven thirty in the top drawer, she recalled, her cheeks flushing with heat at the memory of his instructions. She edged toward the polished mahogany cabinet.

  What other instruments of torture and pleasure did he keep in there?

  The top drawer slid open. Her gaze ran over several boxes and implements, some of which made her heat with excitement, some of which puzzled her. There was an unopened box that appeared to hold several rubber plugs, the larger sizes making her eyes go wide. There was a long, slender, mechanized dildo that made her frown. It hardly compared to Lucien’s gorgeous cock. She picked up a short-handled, highly polished wooden paddle and felt heat rush through her sex. Why did she get so excited over the idea of Lucien using it on her bottom? She opened a lovely velvet box and stared at an assortment of chains with clips and tweezers at the ends. Her nipples tightened. Without thinking, her hand flew upward and she pinched lightly at a crest to staunch the sharp ache.

  She’d never used nipple clamps, but she knew what they were. Something about the delicate beauty of the jewelry-like ones in Lucien’s possession aroused her. They were nothing like the heavy, brutish, sadistic things she’d imagined when she’d heard about them. She flicked one of the gold ones experimentally, wondering what they would look like on her nipples, aroused as she considered Lucien’s expression at seeing them on her, fascinated by whether or not she could endure the tiny clamps. . . .

  She pinched harder at her nipple, the mixture of pain and pleasure bringing her out of her fantasy. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table and replaced the box before she rushed into the bathroom to prepare for bed.

  Lucien had told her eleven thirty, and she wanted to follow his instructions precisely. She thought of the thrill of the little vibrator and hurried through her bedtime routine hastily.

  She wanted to follow his instructions very much.

  At precisely eleven thirty, Elise was naked and lying on top of the comforter, her thighs spread and the vibrator strapped to her finger. She pressed the little bullet between her labia and sunk into the pillows, sighing with pleasure. Why had she never bought one of these little gems before? She rotated her hips, getting better pressure on her clit. Oh, it was divine.

  She recalled how Lucien had taken her so completely that night in the stables, riding her so masterfully, his big, pulsing cock pounding into her flesh, his hands holding her immobile while he took his pleasure in her flesh, his bold possession making her scream.

  Oh yes. It’d been so hot, so glorious to hold him inside her, to hear his grunts of primal satisfaction, to feel his balls slapping against her with each thrust . . . so delicious, to know she was pleasing him so well.

  She gritted her teeth and writhed against the precise pulsations of the vibrator. Oh how she missed him. She couldn’t wait to have him fuck her that way again, to have him take her any way he pleased, to submit to him while he abandoned himself to erupting lust. . . .

  Discipline, ma chère.

  She gasped raggedly. Her hand thumped on the mattress, the vibrator continuing to buzz on her finger, teasing her . . . taunting her. She panted, trying her best to ignore the acute ache at her pussy. Gritting her jaw together tight, she ran her open hand over her heaving belly and cupped a breast. Her hips twisted on the mattress as she pinched a nipple. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough.

  Her clit simmered, begging to be touched.

  She wanted the vibrator. She needed Lucien.

  “You devil,” she muttered, perfectly seeing the glint in Lucien’s gray eyes, his small, sexy smile in her imagination. She writhed in discomfort and arousal . . . burning . . . straining to ignite. Slowly, some of the unbearable tension started to dissipate from her muscles.

  Now, again.

  The warm, hard vibrator was back, pulsing her clit at Lucien’s imagined permission. She whimpered with pleasure. This li
ttle thing could get a girl into real trouble, Elise thought dazedly as ecstasy swamped her and she burned in bliss. She was going to come.

  No, ma fifille. You don’t have my permission yet.

  She growled in acute frustration and slammed her hand onto the mattress. For a few seconds, she just lay there panting shallowly, her body coiled tight, every muscle straining, her nerves shouting in protest. She waited for her flesh to cool. She prayed for it.

  Breathe through it, Elise. You are so lovely when you show control. You may come very soon, I promise. Endure just a moment more. Don’t give up. I’m with you.

  “No, you’re not,” she grated out in supreme frustration. She was alone. And she was missing him. And he was thousands of miles away.

  He would never know.

  Within seconds she was shaking in climax, moaning, drowning in forbidden pleasure, her hips gyrating against her hand and the vibrator.

  She sunk into the mattress moments later, her flesh deliciously limp and satiated following her explosive orgasm. It’d felt so good. So decadent.

  You’ve been the very embodiment of self-indulgence.

  Her eyelids flew open. This time, Lucien’s voice hadn’t been a product of her imagination, but a memory of something he’d once told her. Guilt and regret slinked into her awareness. She should have done better. She could have, but she’d chosen not to, feeling sorry for herself because Lucien was gone and not with her.

  Her phone began to ring. She sat up, startled. She stared at the device on the bedside table, seeing the number on the screen. Panic flickered through her.

  No. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t possibly know that she’d failed.

  “Hello?” she asked shakily.

  “Are you all tucked into bed?”

  She shivered at the sound of his low voice tickling in her ear.

  “Yes,” she said too matter-of-factly. “And what of you? How did things go with the police?”

  “As good as can be expected,” he said with a sigh. “We presented the evidence. Leboeuf and the accountant have been arrested.”

  Concern overrode her earlier panic when she heard the weariness in his voice. “Have you slept?” she asked, knowing that it was early morning in Paris.

  “No, I just arrived at my apartment. I thought I would sleep on the plane, but I ended up working with my banker to ensure the transfer of funds from my private accounts to the Three Kings. Everyone received their paychecks, right on time. I also had to work on hiring a private investigator to see if he can trace the embezzled funds. Perhaps a good portion of it can be recovered. I’ve just come from an all-night meeting with Monsieur Atale. I was a fool not to hire him as the executive director of the Three Kings right off the bat. He’s a good man. But I was wary of people that had worked for my father previously. I thought it was best to bring in an outsider.”

  “That’s hindsight, Lucien. I know that you wouldn’t hire someone who didn’t have excellent qualifications. You can’t see the inner workings of a criminal’s mind and heart.”

  Her breath hitched when he didn’t respond.

  “You should rest,” she said, sensing his tension at the topic of his father and trying to turn the subject. “You sound absolutely exhausted.”

  “I’m in bed right now.”

  Her thighs clamped tight. She realized her instinctive reaction had come from the quiet, seductive quality of his voice.

  “It’s ten until midnight in Chicago,” he murmured. “Did I catch you in the midst of your discipline lesson?”

  “Yes,” she said impulsively, her brain starting to leap into panic again. Did she imagine that short pause on his end?

  “Are you aroused?”

  “Yes. Incredibly so,” she lied breathlessly.

  “You’re lying.”

  Irritation spiked through her at his quick, confident reply.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I know what you sound like when you’re edgy with lust, and I know what you sound like when you’re relaxed. Aside from seeming a little nervous, you sound to me like a woman that’s just had a nice, hot orgasm.”

  Her typically glib tongue went uncooperatively numb.

  “I told you I would know if you were lying,” he said mildly, a thread of humor in his tone. “How many times?”

  “How many times what?” she asked, irritation at his confidence in her failure and regret at her lack of control making her tone snappy.

  “How many times did you pull your hand away and try to cool off?” he clarified evenly.

  “Twice,” she admitted after a pause. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment, but for some reason, another wave of lust went through her, so powerful that she placed her hand on her outer sex and pressed to staunch it.

  “That’s more than I expected.”

  “It is?” she asked, amazed.

  “Did you imagine me telling you that you could come?”

  “Well . . .”

  “Elise?” he asked sharply.

  She grimaced. “No. I . . . imagined that you told me I had to hang on just a bit longer.”

  “But you put the vibrator on your little pussy and came anyway?”

  His voice had dropped a decibel, sounding sultry in her ear. Her hand moved between her thighs. “I tried hard, Lucien. But the vibrator is very powerful. It made me think of . . .”

  “What?” he asked sharply when she faded off.

  “The stables. How you rode me so hard. How much I liked it.”

  A rough groan made her ear and neck tingle.

  “You little minx,” he mumbled tightly. “How will I ever convince you that you were wrong to goad me that way when you were inexperienced, if you keep shoving it in my face how much you liked it?”

  Her pussy was growing very wet. It excited her, playing with herself as they spoke so intimately to each other while they were leagues apart.

  “I can’t help it that I liked it. Do you wish I was different?”

  “Don’t pout,” he chided. “You know I think you’re perfect, and you love shoving that in my face every opportunity you get as well, don’t you?” She smiled. He’d sounded amused. And extremely aroused. “I believe I told you I would punish you if you failed.”

  She rubbed her slick clit with the ridge of her forefinger more rapidly.

  “What will you do to me when you get back?” she asked, trepidation twining with the excitement in her voice.

  “Oh, you won’t have to wait. You’ll receive your punishment now.”

  That made her pause in her self-pleasuring.

  “What do you mean?” she demanded. “You’re in Paris.”

  “I know that. So you will administer the punishment in my place.”

  He really did have an uncanny way of making her speechless.

  “Open the top drawer of the bedside table. There’s a round, wooden paddle in there with a short handle. Perhaps you noticed it earlier.”

  “Lucien,” she said, disbelieving at the hint of mirth she heard in his voice. “Do you have a camera set up in here? Are you spying on me?”

  “Of course I don’t,” he said sharply. “Do you honestly think I’d record you without your permission?”

  Her mouth fell open in surprise at the edge to his tone.

  “No, I don’t have a hidden camera,” he said, exhaling and leveling his tone, as if he’d sensed her surprise. “I knew you had to get in the drawer to get the vibrator. I know what a curious thing you are. Did you see anything else in that drawer that interested you?” he asked quietly.

  “No,” she replied stubbornly as she opened the drawer, stung by his effortless ability to read her.

  He chuckled. “Do you have the paddle?”

  She swallowed thickly as she wrapped her fist around the handle and withdrew the instrument of punishment.

  “Yes.”

  “Then put me on speaker phone and place the phone on the mattress near your hips.” She did what he’d suggested, her trepidation and e
xcitement rising. “Now lie on your left side on the bed. Curl up your knees, little kitten,” he murmured, his seductive voice resonating throughout the still room. “Is the paddle in your right hand?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Twist your hips a little. Present your bottom to the paddle.”

  She bit her lower lip to prevent a whimper of arousal from escaping her throat. She now knew for a fact that the rumors of Lucien seducing from his voice alone were one hundred percent accurate. The polished wood felt hard and exciting next to her buttock as she pressed it there while she drew up her knees toward her waist and twisted her hips.

  “Are you in position?” came Lucien’s voice in her ear.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you comfortable?”

  “Yes,” Elise answered honestly. She lay on her side, her bent knees near her chest, her right thigh higher than the left in order to better expose her buttocks.

  “You were correct in what you imagined me saying while you pleasured yourself. If you thought I was demanding that you continue to abstain just a bit longer, than you should have complied. But I’m pleased, as well, that you succeeded in pulling your hand away twice. Because of that, you may touch yourself at the same time you give yourself a good spanking. I give you permission to come, if you are so inclined.”

  “Oh . . . okay,” she said, experiencing a strange mixture of shyness and arousal at his words. Instinctively, she ground her thighs together tightly to get pressure on her pussy. “May I begin now?”

  “You may begin touching your pussy once I hear how hard you land the paddle. I will know whether or not you are going easy on yourself. Is the phone near your bottom?”

  She scooted the phone nearer to her ass and lifted the paddle.

  Smack.

  “Hmm, that seemed adequate. You tell me. Was it hard enough to fit the crime?”