When I'm with You (Because You Are Mine #2)(97)
“Don’t worry,” he said when she faded off. “Richard and Emile believe in the intimacy of the dining experience. They won’t return until it’s time for the salad. They would want us to enjoy the wine and the oysters. And each other,” he added in a low voice as he leaned back and unbuttoned her blouse farther.
“Lucien,” she began, but she paused when he spread back first her jacket and then her thin blouse so that he could see her delectable breasts. Her nipples were a dark pink contrast to her pale skin, fat and erect and mouthwatering. The nipple chain trembled slightly between them. Perhaps she noticed the awe in his gaze combined with the sheer hunger, because she didn’t further her protest. Leaving her breasts exposed, he reached for the iced platter of oysters. He spooned on just a dash of the mignonette sauce and lifted one to her mouth. She kept her eyes on him as he placed the shell next to her mouth.
The oyster slipped between her lips.
She closed her mouth and her eyelids fell shut. His cock throbbed at the rapt expression of sensual pleasure on her face. He ran two fingers over the sweet swells of her upper breasts. Her mouth moved as she enjoyed the flavor of the fresh oyster to its fullest, squeezing the fragrant juices onto her tongue. He wanted to do that to her: savor her until he was drunk on her, ravish her until her taste filled his mouth and ran down his throat . . . absorb her into him.
“You’re exquisite. I have never wanted another woman more,” he murmured, running his lips over her flagrantly pink cheeks even as his fingertips did the same to the skin of her breasts, feeling her heat. You won’t ever want another woman as you do her.
The sound of a pan hitting a metallic surface jarred him from the unexpected, powerful thought. Elise jumped, her moment of rapt pleasure fracturing.
“Shhh,” Lucien soothed, kissing her temple. “Have you never dropped a pan before?” he asked, running his hand along the bare skin of her ribs and feeling her tremble. He loved how delicate she felt in his hands, how responsive.
“Lucien, we shouldn’t. Not when they might see us.”
“They won’t,” he assured, glancing into her face and seeing her anxiety. “But if the choice is worrying you, I will take it away from you. It is my desire to play with you while I feed you this delicious food and wine. And as my slave, you will fulfill my every desire without protest.” His tone was gentle, but he made sure she heard the edge to it as well. He would not be denied the smallest thing when it came to Elise tonight—not her sweet sighs of pleasure, her body trembling next to his hand, her wide-eyed look of surprise when she shocked herself by surrendering completely to him.
He removed the key from his neck. Her eyes grew large now with that mixture of amazement and arousal that he prized. He drew her wrists together. After he’d locked her bracelets together, he reached beneath the table and began to inch her skirt up her thighs. He felt her gasp against his neck.
“Lucien, must you?” she asked in a strangled voice when he lifted the hem of her skirt just above her mons, giving him access to her *.
“I must, and so you must allow it,” he said simply before he flipped the edge of the tablecloth over her restrained hands and her lap. “Now,” he said, reaching again to touch a plump nipple, “it’s time to enjoy this delicious fare set before me.”
* * *
Her body trembled and vibrated like a plucked harp string as Lucien played with her breasts and tugged gently on the nipple chain, pausing every once in a while to feed her the creamy oysters spiced with a dash of the piquant mignonette sauce or to lift her wineglass to her lips. The combination of flavors on her tongue was sublime, what he was doing to her body the sweetest agony. She swam in a bright sea of vibrant sensation. She grew so wet, she knew there would be a damp spot on the fabric of her skirt just beneath her *. Had Lucien chosen the color black for her skirt because he’d known how aroused she’d become?
Another oyster slipped between her lips and Lucien bent to kiss her as the flavor filled her mouth. Once she’d swallowed, he plucked at her lips with his own, and then caught the lower one between his white teeth, abrading the flesh gently.
“Your lips are turning as red as your nipples,” he murmured.
She groaned softly. “If you keep biting them, they will turn redder.”
“Then I will keep biting them,” he murmured before he nibbled at her more, his pinching fingertips on her nipple and his sensual kisses making her desperate.
“Lucien, please touch me,” she begged softly.
“Where?”
“On my *. It aches so much,” she whispered as she slid her lips feverishly against his. She followed when he leaned back slightly, her mouth seeking out his.
He examined her face. “I will not touch you there yet,” he said, avoiding her lips until she made a sound of frustration at being deprived from the heaven of his mouth. He pinched at her swollen nipple and she moaned in rising agony, her hips shifting on the leather seat. “But you may come, if you can, while I play with your breasts.”
“Oh,” she gasped in a mixture of frustration and intense arousal when he tugged on the chain, and pleasure spiced with pain tore through her. “Do you require a little help in that mission?” she heard him say as if from a great distance.
“Yes,” she hissed.
She felt his hands on the chain, and saw he was loosening the bead below her right nipple. She gasped. Pain tore through, thousands of nerves firing at once at the sudden release of the taut clamp.