When I'm With You: The Complete Novel

by BETH KERY

  “Enjoy your salads,” he said with a small smile before he walked away.

  “Lucien?” she asked breathlessly when Richard was out of earshot.

  “Yes, ma chère?” he said as he picked up his knife and fork and began to cut her asparagus.

  “I will not survive until the main course if you keep this up.”

  She saw his small smile. “You will survive, because I demand it of you,” he said simply before he lifted his fork and slipped it between her swollen lips.

  * * *

  Elise was beyond eating by the time the main course arrived. It wasn’t possible to exist in the sustained, white-hot fires of arousal and think of anything but release from the glorious torture. When Lucien noticed her turn away from the forkful of quail with chorizo, spring onions, and clover that he offered her, he kissed her lips softly. His gaze flickered over her face. She could feel a slight sheen of perspiration on her upper lip and gathering between her breasts. She panted, but gently, so as not to agitate her overly sensitive nipples against the buttoned jacket.

  “Poor girl,” he murmured compassionately. He set down the fork and reached for a glass of ice water. He pressed it to her lips and she drank thirstily, knowing all along the cool liquid would never quench her inner fires. Lucien set down the glass when she’d finished and began to eat. His free hand slipped beneath the tablecloth.

  “Oh” popped out of her throat a second later as his finger found her clit and rubbed firmly. Her eyes sprang wide. She stared sightlessly at the beautiful presentation on her dinner plate and shook in climax. Perhaps it was the inserted plug that made her climax so sharp, or maybe it was just the long period of sustained sensual stimulation, but her orgasm was explosive. She moaned in a mixture of misery and bliss as she tried to contain the detonation occurring in her flesh, thrashing her hips against Lucien’s finger.

  “Better?” he asked her quietly a moment later as he ate, his hand still moving in her lap, working the last shudders of pleasure out of her.

  Elise gasped, trying to catch her breath. She slumped in the seat. The blast of sheer pleasure had left her dizzy.

  “Why do you like torturing me?”

  He gave her a sharp look before he took a bite of quail, then chewed and swallowed. “Do you think this isn’t torture for me as well, sitting next to you while you tremble helplessly beneath my hand, inhaling the scent of your pussy, knowing your entire body is alight with arousal and that soon . . . very soon, I’m going to incinerate high and hard inside you? You’re the most desirable woman in existence, and yet here I sit,” he said in a stark tone. His hand moved again demandingly in her lap and she bit her lip at the fresh friction. “I am not as cruel to you as I am to myself,” he added before he took another bite of quail, his face rigid with arousal and determination.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know this isn’t easy for you, either.”

  “Would you rather I stopped?”

  “No. God, no. Your brand of discipline is teaching me things about my body I didn’t know existed. I want to learn control.”

  “Take your pleasure now and savor it,” he said quietly, setting down his fork and taking a sip of wine, his hand still moving in her lap, coaxing another orgasm out of her. “Because when we return to the penthouse, it will be my pleasure that must be your priority.”

  She moaned softly and shifted her hips against his hand. What he’d said had aroused her. “Even if I don’t take pleasure in what you demand?”

  “Yes, even then.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, his kiss somehow both tender and demanding. She felt herself melting beneath his mouth and hand, and she was soon quaking in climax once again.

  Elise had no choice but to sit there while Lucien ate his meal and come repeatedly beneath his hand. After her third climax, her clitoris became almost painfully sensitive. Further stimulation left her limp and gasping as she experienced what was almost like a constant low-level climax. It was delicious, but it was like dripping water drop by drop onto the tongue of a person dying of thirst.

  Lucien finally set down his fork and removed his hand from her lap. He placed his napkin on the table.

  “Come with me for a moment,” he said, taking one of her bound hands.

  She followed him out of the booth. He pulled down her skirt for her. Elise was so drunk with lust, she hardly had a passing thought about how embarrassing it would be if they ran into Richard when it was clear that her hands were bound in front of her. Richard and Emile were at the front of the restaurant, however, in the kitchen, while Lucien led her down the back hallway to his office.

  He closed the door behind them and hit a switch, lighting the room.

  “Go bend over the desk.”

  His sharp command penetrated her dazed state. She blinked. “But what—”

  “Just do as I say,” he said, and Elise caught the edge to his tone that betrayed his arousal.

  She went to the desk and placed her bound hands on the smooth wood. She bent over, just as she had that first day in this very office weeks ago when Lucien had shocked her by telling her he would punish her . . . show her the limits of her self-indulgent world. Tonight, she felt no less excited as she had on that first time, but she’d grown more confident in Lucien. In herself. Her certainty allowed her to experience less anxiety and more arousal in challenging sexual scenarios than she ever could have in the past.

  “Are you going to punish me again?” she asked shakily when he began to work her skirt over her thighs and then her ass.

  “No. This won’t take long. I don’t want to be rude and miss Emile’s dessert course. Spread your thighs.”

  She repressed a gasp when he matter-of-factly spread her lower ass cheeks, exposing her pussy.

  “I’ve never seen you so wet,” he said, his voice rough with arousal. “Your clit is swelling past your lips.” Air whooshed out of her throat when he flicked at the swollen flesh. She moaned loudly when he removed the butt plug, firing the nerves in her anus and sex. She twisted her chin around, curious and wary, and saw him applying lubricant to the larger plug he’d brought in his pocket. It looked intimidatingly large.

  He caught her staring at him a moment later as he pushed back a buttock. He held her stare as he inserted the lubricated tip into her ass.

  “Push back on it,” he ordered when she winced.

  She did what he said and the larger plug slid into her with relative ease. She exhaled at the sharp flash of pain that went through her, but it passed almost as quickly as it came, leaving an arousing, forbidden sensation of fullness and pressure.

  She couldn’t escape the exciting knowledge that she was being sexually penetrated, even when Lucien pulled down her skirt and helped her to stand. She stood there waiting, her nipples, clit, and anus throbbing, while Lucien went to the bathroom to wash up. When he returned a moment later, he looked possibly even tenser than he had before. He took her hand and led her back to their table. They were seated just in time for Richard to come and serve them coffee, brandy, and a splendid Venezuelan chocolate custard.

  This time, Elise managed several bites of the delicious dessert. Lucien, on the other hand, didn’t eat a thing.

  * * *

  She felt the tension building in him as they said their good-byes and gave their thanks to Richard and Emile later. She sensed it mounting as they drove home, brewing and coiling tight until it felt like the very atmosphere on the inside of the sedan pressed down on her skin and made breathing difficult.

  It thrilled her to know she would be the target of all that awesome passion, but it intimidated her as well. Lucien never ceased to excite and amaze her sexually, but his challenges frightened her a little as well.

  Was she worried she would fall short somehow, and not meet his demanding expectations?

  If you are honest . . . yo
u’ll please me every time.

  The recollection of what he’d said to her last night gave her courage when Lucien led her back to the bedroom immediately upon their return to the penthouse. His face looked like it’d been cast from stone it was so tense, as he turned and began to undress her without preamble. He’d unlocked her bracelets before they’d left Fusion. When he’d removed her jacket and blouse, she stood before him wearing only the skirt, her shoes, the necklace and nipple chain, and her bracelets.

  He moved to take off her skirt and looked at her face. He paused.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his eyelids narrowing.

  She nodded. When he continued to stare, she said, “I’m a little afraid.”

  “Of me?” he asked, his eyebrows slanting.

  “No. I’m afraid I won’t be able to please you.”

  His mouth fell open. He stepped closer and cradled her jaw. “That’s not even a remote possibility. Trust me on that. Do you?” he asked intently.

  She looked into his eyes and nodded.

  “You’ve already pleased me more tonight than I’ve ever been in my life.” He bent and touched his mouth to hers, his kiss a quiet reassurance he’d take her safely through the storm. He lifted his head a moment later.

  “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to treat you with kid gloves,” he said, his tone reminding her of velvet-covered steel.

  “I don’t want you to,” she assured. Now that she’d spoken of her insecurity, and heard Lucien’s response, she experienced a sense of mixed regret and reassurance. She shouldn’t have been afraid. Of course he would keep her safe. Of course he wouldn’t demand anything of her she couldn’t give.

  But can he keep me safe if he doesn’t share in the love that’s threatening to burst out of my chest? You’ll be all alone, then, even if Lucien is right by your side.

  Her thoughts were so volatile, she longed to distract herself from them . . . make her fear a distant memory.

  “Good,” Lucien murmured. “Because you drove me to the brink of madness tonight.”

  She touched his jaw and brushed her body against him, the slight abrading of her erect, tender nipples against the fabric of his suit coat thrilling her. She tilted her head back and met his gaze. “I will help you stave off madness. I am your slave. Use me for your pleasure,” she whispered, letting him read the dare in her gaze. She saw something spark in his light eyes. His nostrils flared as he looked down at her.

  “You needn’t offer yourself. I would have taken what I wanted anyway, because you are mine to do with as I please.”

  Fresh arousal spiked through her at his stark dominance. He reached behind her and unfastened her skirt, pushing it down her hips and thighs until she stepped out of it. She stood before him naked except for her heels and jewelry. When he gently released the loops on her nipples, she bit her lip to halt a cry at the quick, sharp pain resulting from the sudden release of pressure.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely. He set aside her necklace and the nipple chain and leaned down to brush his lips against hers. The pain faded as quickly as it came. He ran his hands over her hips and sensitive sides. He gently caressed her sensitive nipples. She shivered uncontrollably beneath his touch and blatantly possessive stare.

  “Your nipples are so large now, so pink. So beautiful,” he said, his fingers worshiping.

  “Lucien,” she said, her desperation rising.

  “I will not draw this out any further,” he said with sudden decisiveness. He led her over to his large bed. “Put your hands on the railing and bend over.” Excitement built in her when she took the position, her hands bracing her weight on the mahogany rail that ran between the two end posts, her heartbeat throbbing in the tips of her suspended breasts.

  “Stay put,” he said.

  She craned around and watched as Lucien walked into his dressing closet. When he came out a moment later, he wore nothing but his suit pants, his delineated muscles gleaming in the soft lamplight. She couldn’t help but notice how full his cock looked behind the fly of his trousers and riding along his left thigh. She yanked her gaze off the compelling sight, frowning in puzzlement at what she saw in his hands.

  One of the items she recognized immediately: the black leather crop he’d used on her the night in the stables when he’d taken her virginity, the one he’d said was now hers . . . not hers to use, but to have used on her. A thrill went through her. A shiny wooden shoe-polish box was tucked under his arm. The third item had her completely puzzled, however. Hanging from his left hand was something made of incredibly supple black leather. Two straps hung loosely, swaying.

  She was still staring at the leather item when he approached her and let the wooden shoe-polish box drop to the floor. He placed the crop on the bed.

  “Lucien . . . what is that?” she asked through a tight throat, referring to the leather thing with straps.

  She wasn’t expecting his small smile when he turned to her, or that familiar, devilish gleam in his eyes. He’d been so stern and tense all evening that his playfulness took her by surprise.

  “It’s a leather corset, of sorts. Very strong. Very durable. I thought it would look extremely sexy, next to your white skin,” he said, holding up the corset. Elise gasped when she saw the two thin leather straps sewn to the back of the soft leather, one on each side of the zipper.

  “Are those . . . ?” she muttered in amazement.

  “Reins,” he said, a hint of mirth in his tone. “It’s your ad hoc saddle. I had it made for you. Inhale,” he murmured as he fit the corset around her ribs and zipped it in the back. She understood why he’d said to inhale. It fit very tightly. The leather stopped an inch or two below her nipples, plumping the flesh above it until it spilled over the edge. “It seems to fit,” he murmured, running his fingers over the fulsome flesh squeezed above the leather. A shudder of pleasure went through her at his touch. “How does it feel?”

  “Extremely tight,” Elise blurted, still stunned by what was occurring. She didn’t know whether to be irritated or pleased by his gift. An ad hoc saddle?

  He straightened, regarding her and undoubtedly noticing her slight pique. “If you recall, you once told me in no uncertain terms that no one rode you.”

  “And you thought to prove me wrong?” she exclaimed heatedly.

  “I bought this to make it clear to you that there is one person on this planet whom you will submit to,” he growled softly, running his hand over her ass. “And yes, there is one man you will allow to ride you. Who is that?”

  For a moment, she just stared back at him, her heart beginning to pound in her ears.

  “You,” she finally admitted softly.

  Her gaze remained glued to the small, god-awful-sexy smile that shaped his lips. He walked over to the bedside chest and extricated another bottle of lubricant . . . and the last plug in the box.

  The largest one.

  Her muscles tightened instinctually around the plug already inserted. He set down the lubricant and the plug on the tabletop. She watched in avid lust as he methodically stripped off the rest of his clothes. Her mouth went dry at the profile vision of his muscular ass, his powerful thighs, and his erect penis, the heavy weight of it making it fall at a horizontal, slightly downward angle.

  Her sexual hunger mounted exponentially.

  He walked toward her, the bottle of lubricant and the last plug in his hand.

  “You’re going to . . . fuck me in the ass, aren’t you?” she asked, flushing with embarrassment, even though it had seemed obvious to her all night that was precisely what he was preparing her for.

  “Yes,” he said, flipping open the cap on the bottle of lubricant. “And you will submit to it. But first, I will ride your hot little pussy.”

  A whimper of pure arousal leaked past her lips. The paradox of her feelings creat
ed an untenable friction. She didn’t want to be ridden. And yet . . . she did want to be ridden. By him. She wanted the rebellious, empty, hot-blooded wild child she’d been her whole life to find her limit. Held in check.

  Held secure by Lucien.

  He came toward her, his cock and balls swaying slightly between his thighs as he stalked. Her gaze flicked nervously to the largest plug in his hand. Her breath started to come choppily as Lucien moved behind her. She moaned as he removed the plug in her ass. She clenched her eyelids shut and clamped her jaw a moment later when he inserted the new lubricated butt plug. It hurt a little going in, but once it was fully inserted her ass throbbed around the rubber intruder.

  She should have been humiliated, bending over with a large plug in her ass and wearing a corset with reins that Lucien would use to control her. Instead, she was almost overwhelmingly aroused. It grew worse when Lucien came next to her and picked up the crop from the bed. Her arousal was so acute, she looked away from his stare. His hand caught her chin, preventing her avoidance.

  “There is no shame in submission,” he reminded her softly. “Only pleasure. And trust. And a desire to please.”

  “I do want to please you.”

  “I know you do. Even if you doubt. And that pleases me more than anything.”

  She bit her lower lip, the anticipation cutting at her, as he walked behind her.

  “Step up on the box,” he said, scooting the smooth shoe-polish box near her feet. She shifted and stepped onto the box, still leaning against the horizontal rail at the foot of the bed, putting her body at a more hospitable angle for Lucien to penetrate her.

  He impaled her pussy with his cock in one long, forceful stroke. She shrieked at the burst of pressure and pleasure. She was filled to the brim—overfilled—with the plug in her ass and Lucien plunged to the hilt in her vagina. He caressed a buttock as if to soothe her, even as he immediately began fucking her demandingly, his pelvis and balls slapping against her ass. The dual combination of pressure in her ass and pussy was almost too much for her to bear. And he wasn’t being gentle. He drove into her again and again, and Elise strove to keep herself steady for his onslaught.