She opened her eyes, looking up at him with confusion at first, followed quickly by remembrance and understanding in those emerald depths.
Lifting the blanket a little, she peered underneath then dropped it again, letting her head fall back on her pillow. James frowned.
"Let me see," he said, pleased when she didn't hesitate, but tossed the blanket aside. The wounds were angry red, but he knew in a week or two they'd calm down. And then...the thought of the painting he would do sent blood rushing to his groin. She would be bound in chains and the bejeweled cuffs like a rich concubine, her hair flowing around her as she lay waiting for his pleasure. He nearly groaned thinking about how difficult it would be to stay focused while working with her only a few feet away.
The metal in the rings was the same material he'd made her collar and cuffs out of, and the jewels closing them were real versions of the faux stones in the rest of her accessories. Super-strong, the titanium featured rich swirls of pastel colors that offset the stones perfectly.
"Stunning," he said, leaning over to caress the inside swell of one breast. "I made these just for you, you know. Metal working is sort of a hobby. The first time I saw you in the bar, I was inspired. I assumed I'd hand you over to your new master wearing them some day."
She nodded, her lips curving up at the sides. "And you did, in a way. It's beautiful - I love every piece."
He let his fingers slide lower, carefully avoiding her sore navel and continuing down to slip between her labia and gently fondle her clit. She parted her legs, the chain attached to her ankle rattling with the movement.
"Touch yourself," he ordered, removing his hand and watching as her own took it's place. He stared as she circled her tender nub, noting the patterns she preferred.
"About that job you wanted," he said, licking his lips as he remembered how sweet she tasted. "How would you feel about working for Celia at the club? She needs an accountant, and I'm told that's what your degree is in. It seemed like a good fit, but I told her it was up to you." Her finger moved lower, disappearing inside her canal only to come out slick with her moisture.
The brilliant smile she gave him was all the answer he needed. Unable to help himself, he grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips. Her smile faded, her gaze turning soft as he drew the wet digit into his mouth and sucked her essence off her skin.
"Mmm..." he moaned, crooking his finger at her. "Come here. I need that cream on my cock, slave."
"Of course, Master," she said, her ankle chain rattling again as she got to her feet and climbed up on the bed. She impaled herself slowly, and he could barely breathe as he watched her beautiful body sink down over him.
"You are mine," he said, guiding her hips back and forth as her head fell back, her hair grazing his balls. "Say it."
"I am yours, Master." She raised her head, and then bent down to place a kiss on his lips. "Your Irish cream."
###
About the Author
Trinity Marlow is the erotica pen name of Jamie DeBree. Born in Billings Montana, she resides there with her husband and two over-sized lap dogs. For a free serial draft of the next Naughty Encounters story, please visit TrinityMarlow.com or BrazenSnakeBooks.com.
Other Books by Trinity Marlow
The Entertainer
The Pile Driver
The Bouncer
The Mechanic
The Paramedic
Irish Cream Page 6