When I'm with You (Because You Are Mine #2)(66)
“As soon as my secretary in Paris can book me a charter flight. She’ll be calling back any minute. I’m sorry, Elise. It’s rotten timing.”
“I understand,” she assured, ignoring the ache expanding in her chest. “Of course you must go. The employees of all three hotels have dependents . . . families relying on them. They need their paychecks and jobs.”
“I’m glad you understand.” He stood and took her into his arms. When she looked up at him, he cradled her jaw, his fingers caressing her tenderly. He glanced at his cell phone and then back at her. She heard him curse under his breath. The next thing she knew, he’d swept her into his arms and was carrying her toward the hallway.
“Lucien?” she asked, amazed.
“A few minutes isn’t going to make that much of a difference,” he said grimly.
A moment later, he lowered her onto his bed and placed his hands on either side of her hips.
“Do you own a vibrator, ma chère?” he asked, his face just inches from her own, his voice striking her as decadent and rich, making her skin prickle with awareness.
She swallowed thickly and shook her head.
He said nothing, but moved away from her. She watched, her breath coming in increasingly erratic puffs, as he turned and opened one of the bedside table drawers. He removed an unopened box and tore through the seal, tipping the contents into his hand. She saw a chrome, bullet-shaped object and several red elastic bands fall into his palm. He chose one of the bands and attached it to the vibrator. He secured the chrome bullet to his finger using the band and sat on the bed next to her.
“Take off your panties and lift your dress to your waist. I’m going to pleasure you, and you will return the favor. It’s going to be quick, out of necessity,” he said, his mouth twisting slightly in dissatisfaction, “but effective, and I want to explain something to you.”
Quick but effective. Her pulse began to thrum at her throat.
She felt his gaze on her as she whisked her panties down her thighs and off her legs. “Sit in the middle of the bed,” he demanded quietly when she started to raise her dress. She scooted to the center and leaned against the pillows, her breathing growing choppier by the second from mounting excitement. His gaze remained glued to her * when she lifted her dress to her waist.
“Now spread your thighs,” he murmured, edging toward her on the bed, one knee bent, the other long leg left draped over the side of the mattress.
She watched with bated breath as he flicked a button on the vibrator and she heard a muted buzzing sound, like a bee had invaded the room. She gasped loudly when he matter-of-factly pushed the metal bullet against her labia. Delicious vibrations stimulated her clit.
“Oh,” she cried out, her eyes going wide. It created a wicked tingling, and then an addictive, slow burn.
He studied her face and smiled. “Feel good?”
“Yes,” she assured breathily. The metal was warming against her hypersensitive flesh. In the distance, she heard the insistent sound of his cell phone ringing. She opened her lips, but he spoke before she did.
“Ignore it,” he said tautly. “This is your vibrator now. It’s an expensive one—very powerful. I want you to use it on your little * every night at eleven thirty while I’m gone. I want you to think about what you told me, about how you wanted to submit to me in bed. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she replied. He’d pushed the vibrator deeper between her labia and was pulsing it ever so subtly with his finger. Her hips began to flex against the precise little instrument.
“And every time you are about to come, I want you to pull the vibrator away and stave off your orgasm. You may apply it again after you have cooled some. When you begin to crest again, you must pull the vibrator away. Picture me telling you that you must.”
“How many times must I do that before I . . . come?” she gasped when he pulsed his finger against her with added pressure.
“Until you imagine me giving you permission to climax. Remember,” he said, gray eyes glittering with arousal and amusement, “I’m a demanding master, but not a cruel one.
“When I call you every day, you’ll tell me how successful you were—or how you failed,” he continued. “I expect complete honesty. You know I could always tell when you were lying. Even when you were a girl,” he reminded her as he watched his finger pulsing against her clit. “If you are successful in showing discipline, I will reward you. If you aren’t, I’ll tell you what your punishment is.”
Liquid heat surged between her thighs at the potent combination of the vibrator on her clit and his illicit instructions. She could just imagine how erotic it would be, reporting to him her intimate moments of masturbation, anticipating his rewards and punishments when she next saw him. Yes, the punishments, because she knew she would fail miserably at the challenge. She’d never been very good at denying herself pleasure, especially such a delicious one. Her hips bobbed against the vibrator. It felt so good . . . so hot.
But suddenly Lucien lifted his finger. She whimpered at the deprivation.
“Do you understand, Elise?”
She swallowed the protest on her tongue. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Good. Now, unbutton your dress and show me your pretty breasts.”
Chapter Ten
Her chest was heaving against her fingers as she unfastened the row of buttons on her sundress. Lucien grunted softly in approval when she peeled back the fabric and he saw she wasn’t wearing a bra.