by BETH KERY
“Because I will choose what my slave wears for dinner,” he said, his tone implying his reasoning couldn’t have been more obvious. He responded to her incredulous glance with a small smile before he left the bathroom. Elise could tell from that knowing look that he had something in mind—the devil’s work, no doubt.
When he knocked and reentered the bathroom ten minutes later, she’d tamed most of the damage caused by the humidity of the bath to her hair and applied her makeup. She glanced around in interest at the sight of Lucien looking drop-dead gorgeous in a dark gray suit that had been perfectly tailored to his tall form; a cuffed white shirt; and a black, white, and silver tie. She rotated on the vanity stool she sat on when she saw he carried one of her blouses. He draped it over a second vanity stool and turned to her.
“Stand up, please,” he said.
She rose slowly, a little mystified by his manner, a little wary . . . increasingly excited. He reached for the edge of the towel she still wore and tugged. She stood before him naked. The smell of his cologne filtered into her nose and she inhaled deeply. It wasn’t until then that she saw he held the black velvet bag in his other hand.
The black velvet bag.
“Lucien . . . you’re not going to make me go out in public wearing those . . .” She faltered when he withdrew the exquisite necklace, and then the attachable nipple chain.
“Yes,” he said simply as he put the necklace around her throat, the metal and jewels feeling cool against her heated skin. He set the velvet bag on the counter and placed the nipple chain on top of it. Her confusion mounted as he sat on the vacant stool and put his hands on her waist, pulling her between his long, spread thighs.
“But . . . people will see, won’t they?”
“You must trust that I wouldn’t expose or humiliate you,” he said, his gaze fixed on her breasts. He looked up at her. “You do, don’t you?”
“Yes, but . . . Lucien,” she exclaimed in surprise when he inserted a nipple into his warm, wet mouth and began to lash at her with his tongue. Liquid heat surged at her sex, as if he’d demanded the wholesale reaction with his sucking mouth. She clutched onto his head and moaned in sharp pleasure spiced with just a dash of pain for the next minute as he moved his head back and forth between her breasts, making her nipples stiffen and redden.
She was so wet by the time he moved back his head, she might as well not have bathed. He picked up the nipple chain and methodically attached it to the necklace. Her mouth went dry when he slipped the loop between his fingertips and shaped it around her swollen nipple. She moaned shakily. He twisted the sapphire bead, narrowing the loop, as he watched her face closely. When she winced slightly, he stopped.
“Can you handle that?” he asked quietly.
She nodded. The pinch was abrasive on the sensitive flesh, but the sensation was a highly erotic one as well; one that she couldn’t escape. She truly would be a slave to the experience all night . . . a slave to Lucien and her desire to please him.
He attached the chain to her other nipple and stood, his gaze glued to her breasts. Unlike last night, this time Elise could see herself in the mirror. Even she had to admit that the jeweled combination of the necklace and nipple chain was stunning to behold. As in all things, his taste was immaculate. Her clit twanged with arousal. She experienced an almost overwhelming desire to touch herself, to rid herself of this plaguing ache.
Lucien picked up the white blouse and held it up for her to put on. She met his stare in amazement.
“That’s a sheer blouse. I can’t go out in public without a bra and camisole on under it . . . let alone wearing this thing,” she said, pointing to the swaying nipple chain.
“I told you I wouldn’t expose you. You will wear a jacket and button it until we are alone together. No one will know.” He jerked up the blouse an inch, a hard look on his face. She had no choice but to turn and slide on the blouse. He buttoned it for her. When he reached the button covering the sapphire weights on the chain, she gasped at the tug on her nipples.
“Okay?” he murmured, his long fingers pausing.
“Yes,” she managed. For a moment, she could perfectly feel her heartbeat in the swollen crests, causing a pleasurable throb. His fingertip brushed ever so lightly against a nipple, teasing her. Heat rushed through her at the erotic sensation and the primal flash in his gray eyes. If only he’d touch her pussy . . . make her come in that magical way of his. . . .
“You’re so lovely,” Lucien muttered thickly when he’d finished. He turned her so that she could see in the mirror. The dark blue sapphires shone against the pale skin of her throat, mimicking the shine of arousal in her eyes. The placket of the sheer white blouse was double-thick, making it more opaque than the rest of the garment. It mostly covered the dipping nipple chain and center sapphire weights. But the fabric over her breasts was whisper-thin and fairly tight. Her nipples looked fat, dark pink, and stiff against the blouse.
An involuntary whimper left her throat.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” Lucien said, moving back her hair and brushing his lips against her hairline, making her shiver in pleasure.
He left the bathroom, and she told herself to put the finishing touches on her makeup. Instead she just stood there, staring at the image of herself wearing nothing but the necklace and nipple chain and a blouse that covered nothing, and only made her breasts appear more exposed and lewd than they would completely naked. She touched one of the vividly pink tips experimentally. A sharp pain of arousal tore through her.
This is what Lucien would do to her all night. Play with her. Tease her. Make her mad with arousal.
Her hand moved between her naked thighs, her finger agitating her slick, swollen clit. Oh, yes . . . if she hurried, perhaps she could bring herself relief before Lucien returned. Her body tightened as she raced for the finish line, her hand moving faster and faster—
The next thing she knew, her wrists were pinned behind her and her back was pressed against the length of Lucien’s body. She met his gaze in the mirror and saw that he was amused, but also vaguely annoyed.
“Little hedonist. I can’t leave you alone for a moment, can I?”
She made a frustrated sound and pulled at her wrists, but he held firm. “It’s only natural,” she defended. “You’ve got these instruments of torture attached to my breasts.”
He leaned down, his chin brushing the side of her head. “It’s not natural to all women to become so turned on by a nipple chain, lovely. That it does arouse you pleases me. But you aren’t allowed to come until I give you permission, are you?” he asked quietly near her ear in a hard voice. “You’re impulsivity does not please me. I will have to punish you for it.”
His low, rough voice made her nipples prickle against the sheer blouse.
“Finish dressing and put on your bracelets, one on each wrist. They are in the bag,” he instructed, freeing her hands. For the first time, she realized he had more of her clothing slung over his forearm. He placed a black pencil skirt and matching blazer on the stool. “Then come out into the bedroom. I will give you your punishment before we go for dinner. And if I discover you touching yourself again,” he added dryly as he began to leave the room, “I will make you regret it.”
Her ragged breathing hitched in excitement at his threat. She reached for her skirt, overly careful in her movements so as to prevent the sway of the chain and tug on her nipples. “Lucien,” she spoke to his retreating back. “There’re no panties here.”
“You won’t be needing them,” he said before he walked out the door.
“Of course not,” she muttered sarcastically under her breath as she pulled on the fitted black skirt and ever so tenderly straightened her blouse. As a slave, it was her responsibility to make things as convenient for him as possible.
The jacket helped a little, stabilizing her breasts and the wicked
, swaying chain. She looked at her reflection in the mirror before she walked out of the bathroom. She’d buttoned her jacket. If it weren’t for the vivid color in her cheeks and lips, not to mention the brightness of her eyes, her look might have passed for chic conservative. The shimmering sapphires at her throat and wrists winked at her in the mirror, as if they shared a secret.
Lucien straightened from the bedside chest when she walked out. He glanced over his shoulder.
“You look stunning,” he said slowly. He blinked, and then nodded toward the foot of the bed, where she saw a black pair of Christian Louboutin pumps resting.
“Put on your shoes,” he instructed. He turned once she stood in her heels. She glanced downward to what he held in his hand. Her expression flattened in disbelief when she saw the box of butt plugs she’d discovered in the drawer while he was out of town.
“Don’t panic,” he said. “If it helps you to know it, this isn’t part of your punishment. I would have put one of these in you whether I found you masturbating or not. I will make this as comfortable for you as I can, but that will take some time and patience. On both of our parts,” he added wryly under his breath. “Fortunately, we do have the gift of time tonight.” He opened the seal on the box and withdrew the smallest, narrowest of three rubber butt plugs. “Now, lift your skirt up over your ass and bend over the bed,” he said so matter-of-factly. It took him a moment to notice her incredulous, defiant glare.
“Do as I say,” he said, a trace of steel in his soft tone. “I would not ask anything of my little slave that I didn’t think she could take.”
Her chin went up at that, but so did her skirt. Her fiery glance over her shoulder before she leaned over and placed her hands on the mattress told him loud and clear that she could take it all right. She kept her head turned, wariness and excitement pulsing through her in equal measures when he set down the box of plugs and extricated the wooden paddle from the drawer.
“Look down at the bed,” Lucien said.
She turned her head slowly, painfully aware of her throbbing nipples and the cool, air-conditioned air tickling her wet pussy.
Smack.
She moaned softly at the stinging pain on her ass. A surge of liquid warmth dampened her sex even more. He paddled her again.
“I expect you to ask my permission to come, especially tonight,” he said from behind her. He landed another spank and her ass began to burn in earnest. “Tonight, you are my slave, so everything about you is mine, including your pleasure. Do you understand?”
When she didn’t immediately respond, he placed his hand on her shoulder and paddled her again, steadying her when she lurched forward slightly. She squealed.
“I asked you a question.”
“Yes, I understand . . . you devil,” she added under her breath.
She got another hard one for that.
She bit her lip but couldn’t stop her moan of arousal when he parted her ass cheeks with one hand and paddled the flesh just over her asshole. Her anus tightened reflexively and tingled at the illicit blows.
By the time he stopped and replaced the paddle in the drawer, the surface of her ass burned. She watched over her shoulder with a mixture of curiosity, anxiety, and excitement as he lubricated the black plug. She noticed that it was tapered at the end and then grew wider, but then it narrowed again to a thin stem at the base. Lucien glanced up at her face as he walked toward her, plug in hand.
“The narrowed stem will keep it secure once it’s inserted,” he said, obviously noticing her trepidation and curiosity.
“You mean . . . while we go out?” she asked shakily as he used one of his hands to part an ass cheek. She shivered when he pressed the tip against her anus. It felt cool against the nerve-packed tissue, the pressure stimulating.
“Of course while we go out. No one will know but you. And me, of course. I’m assuming by your reactions that you are a virgin here?”
“If I was a virgin in the other location, do you really think I’d not be one for this?” she asked, exasperated. His low chuckle caused goose bumps to rise along her neck.
“You give head like a seasoned professional, Elise. How am I to know what sexual escapades you got yourself into? I am pleased, though,” he added gruffly, “that you saved this for me.”
His voice rang in her head. That you saved this for me.
He pushed the tip into her ass and her eyes sprang wide.
“Lucien, I don’t think—”
“Stay still,” he instructed harshly when she shifted. He put his hand on her hip, immobilizing her.
“Oh,” she gasped as he gently sawed the slick plug back and forth for a moment, pushing the thicker part farther into her ass with each pass. She moaned uncontrollably. He pushed, and finally the rubber plug was submerged, the base pressed snugly against her buttocks. Lucien caressed a hot ass cheek and she glanced back at him.
“It feels so strange.”
His hand slid around her hip. Her lower lip trembled when he casually flicked his forefinger against her swollen clit. Her ass muscles clenched around the clamp as pleasure stabbed through her.
“Strange?” he queried.
She wondered if he noticed the flush of heat that rose in her cheeks. “Strangely good,” she admitted grudgingly.
He smiled and removed his hand. He started to pull her skirt down over her ass.
“Stay still,” he said sharply when she tried to stand and assist him. He lowered the fabric down slowly over her stinging buttocks, his actions striking her as highly sensual. She remained bent over the bed as he smoothed the fabric around her hips and ass, the movements applying a subtle pressure to the butt plug, exciting her further.
“Ready?” he asked her when he raised her to a standing position and brushed a tendril of hair off her heated cheeks. She watched, going very still, as he removed the medium-sized plug from the box and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He placed a small bottle of lubricant in the other pocket. Her gaze darted to meet his stare.
For this?
“Not really,” she whispered.
He took her hand and kissed a knuckle, even that small gesture sending off fireworks in her overly sensitive body.
“Don’t worry. You will be,” he assured in a low voice that felt like knuckles gently rasping her spine.
Chapter Fourteen
Lucien unlocked the back door of Fusion and opened it for Elise to enter.
“Are we picking something up?” Elise asked him as she trailed him down the long hallway past his office a few seconds later.
He glanced back to answer and his gaze remained glued to the sight of her. He’d never seen her lips and cheeks so pink. She was the very image of a stunning, intensely sexually aroused woman. He had to force himself to look ahead before he stumbled over his own feet. He’d seen her slight wince when she’d sat down in the car earlier and had worried the plug was causing her discomfort. By the time he’d pulled out of the parking garage, however, her color had deepened, and he’d recognized her arousal. If her vivid cheeks and lips hadn’t told him, the teasing hint of her erect nipples visible even through the barrier of the fitted jacket would have informed him loud and clear what Elise experienced.
“No, you said you wanted to dine here,” he reminded her quietly as they entered Fusion’s empty, hushed dining room. “I arranged for the kitchen to be opened and a meal to be served just for us.”
“You didn’t call Denise to cook on her day off, did you?” Elise asked, clearly perplexed as she noticed the light on in the distant kitchen.
“No,” Lucien assured, leading her to a secluded private booth he reserved for his own use or for special guests when they requested it. He nodded toward the circular booth. Elise carefully sat and inched toward the middle of the candlelit table, draped with a white cloth.
“Then
. . . who is cooking?” she asked when she’d settled and Lucien scooted in next to her.
“I think you’ll approve of the chef. He used to live in Paris. He and his partner, Richard St. Claire, owed me a favor, and they seemed very willing to even things up between us. Ah . . . here is Richard now.”
A very handsome dark-haired man with the slender build and light step of a dancer approached their table carrying a bottle of wine, his fingers twined around the stems of two wineglasses. He set down his burden on the table, smiling broadly. Lucien stood and the two men exchanged a warm greeting in French, shaking hands. Richard took Elise’s hand when Lucien introduced her.
“I hear tonight is a special occasion. So Lucien has finally found someone worthy of him,” Richard said, grinning slyly before he brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Emile and I have said forever that no such creature exists. I will be glad to tell him we were wrong.”
“Emile?” Elise asked, politely bewildered.
“Emile Savaur,” Richard said as he began to uncork the wine, not noticing Elise’s mouth fall open in amazement. “We chose this one out of your private stock to suite the meal, just as you suggested,” Richard told Lucien as the cork slid out of the bottle. “Emile was green with envy over your selection, but he personally chose this for the oysters.” He held up the bottle of muscadet.
“Excellent choice,” Lucien murmured, glancing at Elise as she studied the wine label. “I once met an adorable little girl in Nice,” he said, referring to the fact that he’d handpicked the wine from Bellet Vineyards, near Nice.
Elise gave him a small, knowing smile.
“And please tell Emile that he should take another Bellet wine before he goes tonight,” Lucien said.
Richard glanced sideways as he poured the wine. “You can tell him yourself. Here he is,” Richard said. An older man with gray-streaked hair, a high forehead, and patrician features approached the table and set down an iced platter with a flourish.