When I'm with You (Because You Are Mine #2)(98)
“Shhh,” he soothed roughly before he bent his head and took the nipple into his mouth. At the same moment, he lifted her bound hands an inch off her lap, making it impossible for her to press on her * from above.
A sharp cry fell past her lips as he drew on the throbbing nipple, and she began to shudder in climax. It hurt. It felt so good she could barely stop herself from screaming. Her hips bucked on the leather seat, but she couldn’t get the full friction she needed on her sex, giving her orgasm a tight, cramped quality.
She was disoriented when he lifted his head a moment later and hastily reattached the loop to her nipple, Elise wincing at the familiar pinch. He just as quickly fastened her blouse. Richard appeared a scant second after Lucien buttoned her jacket. Elise watched as if through a heat haze as Richard served them a lovely white-asparagus and mushroom salad. Richard opened his mouth to speak when he was finished, then glanced at Elise and closed it again. He quickly refilled their wineglasses.
“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 *, 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.