He leaned over her and parted her legs. “Christ, but you are
so lovely here.” He bent to tease at her nub with feathery strokes.
Fire shot up her belly. She cried out. He continued teasing
her.
He slipped the balls into her one by one. The novel
sensation of cool metal sliding into her followed. He drew her legs together
and the balls knocked together inside. Pinging, aching…
“Oh, God!”
He was slowly unbuttoning his waistcoat, watching her with
hooded eyes. “Do you begin to guess what tonight shall be about?”
A heated chill shuddered through her. “Torment for me?”
“Well, yes, but torment only until you admit you want to be
mine and that you will obey my dictates, the first and foremost of them that
you shall live here and await my pleasure every Wednesday and perhaps some
Saturdays.”
“But David, that’s so unnecessary.”
“It’s necessary to me.”
“But why?”
“I must have the peace of mind to know that you’re there and
shall remain waiting there until I have need of you.”
“But I do want you as a lover. I just don’t want to lose my
own independence.”
“You shall have your independence at all times—other than Wednesdays
and Saturdays. You shall have everything a woman could ever want so long as it
is in my power to give it to you.” He bent and kissed her stomach. “And I am
very wealthy. I can give you a lot.”
“Why can’t we just be kind to each other?”
He chuckled softly “You mean why don’t I just make you come
right now?”
“That would be kind, David.”
“It would take all the enjoyment out of tonight.” He took
her hands. “Come now, up with you.”
“What do you intend?”
“Don’t ask questions, just obey.” He offered her a hand.
With no choice that she could see, she took it and let him
help her to her feet. He began working the laces on her evening gown.
“We will leave the stockings and their garters. They are
most charming. Do you know how to dance the minuet?”
“I have always been a poor girl. I didn’t have a dancing
master.”
“Tonight, I shall play your dancing master. When you were a
girl, you danced the ring around the rosie, did you not?”
“Sometimes.”
He had shed his waistcoat and was in the process of pulling
his shirt over his head. He tossed it aside and raked a hand through his coal
black, mussed hair. “I want you to dance for me now.”
Her mouth dropped open. Surely he did not expect something
like that from her. She wasn’t some damned opera dancer he’d acquired in a
green room. “David, I cannot dance. Especially not before an audience—even just
an audience of one.”
“You can fuck with a measure of grace to match and exceed
some of the best courtesans in London, Paris, and Rome.” He paused with his
fall halfway undone and looked up. “Believe me, you can dance. You simply
won’t.”
“What happens if I won’t?”
“Then I shan’t remove the balls.”
“But I cannot dance with them inside.”
“Therein lies your quandary, does it not? You must dance
with them in place in order to have them removed.”
“David, that’s not fair!”
“I told you before, few things in life are fair. I think we
shall call tonight’s exercise ‘Through the Fire.’”
For a moment, she considered defying him. But wait—in order
to defy someone, he has to have authority over you to begin with. “You have no
authority over me.”
“Darling, you have been giving me authority over you all
evening.”
She remembered how he had asked her to stay, to wear the
gown, to stay for the evening meal, to come inside the house, to knell, to let
him fuck her. She had complied with it all. She had wanted to play the bold
courtesan in his drawing room but lost her courage. Never had the courage. Now
he was ordering her to be bold, to dance for him.
He was naked now, his body clearly showing his appreciation
for her.
“There’s no music.”
“You’re an authoress. I know you have music in your head.”
“Please, David, don’t do this. Just be kind to me.”
He approached her, set his hands on her hips, and gave them
a gentle yet steady push. Side to side. The balls clanged inside, shocks of
stimulation rocked through her, followed by a stab of need. She couldn’t hold
back a moan.
“Like that and like this, Jeanne.” He moved her hips in a
slow, tortuous circle.
Fire sparked in her blood at the way he handled her.
Directed her movements. Her loins pulsated and ached with urgency. His cock
brushed her mons at one point. She gasped and tried to arch into him but he
held her firm, forcing her through the motions of the most obscene type of
dancing.
He let her go and backed away.
She missed his touch, his direction.
He folded his arms over his chest.
“Continue like that.”
“You’re going to reward me, correct?”
“Yes, love, I am.”
Desperately clinging to that assurance, she worked her hips
in a slow circle. At first there was nothing but the most painful desire.
Heated wetness flowed from her core, so much it actually slicked the inside of
her thighs. Goodness, she’d never known it could be like this. But then she
intentionally clenched her inner muscles, tightened her buttocks and thighs.
Squeezed her legs together and rotated her hips. She froze and gasped. It was
almost enough.
Enough stimulation to come.
“Keep dancing.” This time his voice resounded with command.
A direct order.
It should have galled her. But instead it heated her blood
even more. Defiantly, she worked her hips and clenched her inner muscles,
faster, faster, faster.
Then involuntary spasms took over. She didn’t have to clench
herself any longer. But she was shaking, head to foot. Pleasure swept through
her, white starbursts exploding behind her now closed eyes. She was flying,
floating.
She landed in strong arms. The pulsations receded quickly.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him, jutting her chin out in an expression
of triumph. She had done it in spite of him.
He smiled, his eyes like green fire. “My God.”
Another wave of intense satisfaction shuddered through her.
She moaned with it.
“I didn’t think that would happen.” He squeezed her
shoulders. “My God.”
She was still falling down to earth. Relief was still
pouring through her.
“Come, love, down on your knees.” He gently pressed her
shoulders.
Dazed, weak and still trembling, she let him guide her until
she knelt on the rug.
“Spread your legs,” he said. She complied and he reached
inside her and removed the metal balls.
“Don’t move.” He walked away.
“That seems to be your favorite phrase.” She gasped the
words out with labored breaths.
“Don’t speak either.”
“Will you punish me?” She laughed at the prospect.
“It could happen. Especially given your defiant bent.”
Something in his tone sent a delicious shiver through her.
But how ludicrous. She’d never allow a man to punish her like some naughty
child.
He returned with his cravat. “Put your hands behind your
back.”
Even though her arousal had been satisfied there was an
emotional thrill to obey him and so she complied.
With several quick motions, he folded the wide linen into a
narrow strip then he leaned over her and reached behind her. He wrapped the cloth
around her wrists and with a few tugs had her secured.
He fondled her breasts, pinched the nipples until they
beaded into sharp points. He pushed them together and slid his cock between
them.
She had wanted to take him into her mouth all evening. In the
drawing room. Now she was practically drooling to feel his erection slide
between her lips, to have him hold her head and thrust into her mouth as he had
done previously. As no other man had done. He would not find enough friction
between her breasts. He would need the wet, warm suction of her mouth to find
completion. She knew it. She knew men well. But just when she was sure he was
growing weary of the soft fucking he was getting from her breasts, he pulled
away and took himself in hand again.
With long, slow motions, he stroked himself. Fluid leaked
and covered the head. Hunger to taste him, to lick him clean, made her lick her
lips and swallow. “David?”
He didn’t respond. He was watching the action of his hand on
himself. As though she weren’t even there.
He was tormenting her. Just as he had said he would. Equal
parts desire and resentment burned into her. He groaned with just enough of a
catch in his voice to tell her exactly when his hand brushed over his sweetest
spot. Just how close the internal workings of equipment were to spasmodic
release of his seed. She could see it in the tenseness of his hard stomach
muscles. Any moment now, he would spend himself into the air. He stood so
close, it would likely rain upon her. But that wouldn’t be any good.
She was dying for him to spill down her throat. She wanted
to feel the surge of his cock against her tongue, his hands tightening and
pulling on her hair. A sort of agony, stronger even than when he had denied her
release, came twisting up from the depths of her.
“David, please.”
He looked up and a devilish light entered his
passion-darkened eyes. He stopped stroking himself and came closer. He held his
erection close to her mouth. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes.”
“But why? You’ve had your pleasure. Twice tonight.”
“I want…I just want it.”
“What do you want?”
“Your seed.”
“Why?”
Because it was the tangible proof. Proof she had pleased
him. Proof that he wanted her. But she saw where he was leading with this. She
pressed her lips together and shook her head.
He rubbed the head over her lips, wetting them with a sudden
profuse outpouring of fluid. She licked the saltiness off and hunger to taste
more of him wracked her.
“David, please.” Urgency pulsed with every beat of her
heart. “What is it you want to hear?”
She heard the trembling in her voice and cringed. She
sounded quite desperate.
“Tell me that you want to please me. You want live here and
await my pleasure always.”
No, no, she couldn’t give up. Sexual congress brought out
this needy side of herself. This desire to put a man’s pleasure above all. But
it was just carnal hunger. She couldn’t give in and risk everything else in her
life. Risk losing all her dreams and goals.
He was asking for too much commitment. She had a future
beyond serving the needs of men. Dr. Edmonton was wrong. She was meant for
greater things than being a whore. Or a kept woman.
But there was more to it. Men wanted too much from women. If
she gave in she’d never be her own person. Never have her peace and solitude.
He would encroach little by little into her life until there was no room for
anything but his needs. She shook her head.
“As you wish,” he said and he walked away then sat in the
chair where he had laid his coat. He reached into his pocket and withdrew
another handkerchief.
She watched in disbelief as he stroked himself once, twice,
thrice. He closed his eyes, threw his head back and groaned.
“David…David, I want to please you.” She took a ragged
breath. “I’ll do anything you want.” She gasped another hitching breath. “Anything.”
A grin of pure satisfaction split his face. It was so like
seeing a stranger unveiled that she caught her breath. He released himself and
stood. Then he returned to her.
Instinctively, she sat up straighter and arched her back so
that her breasts jutted out. The tips were hard, painfully so. Surely no man
could resist her like this. Surely…
She had never acted so seductively, hadn’t understood how
to, but he brought this side of her out.
He took his cock in hand and stroked the head against her cheek.
A shudder of pure hunger wracked her. “Please, you’ll let me, won’t you?”
He stroked it over her mouth, the smooth, silken flesh
circling and circling. Fluid leaked onto her lips. She opened her mouth and
displayed her tongue as invitingly as she could.
He pulled back. “Why should I let you?”
Her mouth dropped open further. She couldn’t believe a man
was actually demanding that she beg to pleasure him. Not just beg, but beg and
beg.
“David…” Her voice was pure pleading.
“Only good girls are rewarded.”
Was he bloody jesting with her? What the devil did he want?
“I don’t understand how to play this game, David.”
He caressed her cheek and gazed at her with a tenderer look.
“State the case for why you are a good girl.”
“I wore the gown for you. I stayed for dinner.”
“Yes, but that’s not enough.”
“I danced for you.”
“Yes, you did, that’s true. And you danced very well.”
“Isn’t that enough?” This time she couldn’t keep the
desperation from her voice. Inside, she cringed. Her throat burned. For a
single, mortifying moment, she feared that she would burst into tears from the
frustration.
“But will you keep yourself only for me?” He was stroking
himself, lightly, slowly, catching his breath each time his hand brushed over
the underside of his cock’s head. The sensual spectacle fascinated her. She
couldn’t look away. “Will you agree to wait upon and serve my pleasure?”
She’d never known jealousy like she did of his hand, which
was such an absurd thought it should have made her laugh. She didn’t feel like
laughing. Instead, she found herself nodding, avidly. “Yes, yes, I’ll do
whatever you want.”
“Forever?”
“For as long as you wish.”
He nodded. “That is what I wanted to hear.”
“Really?”
He released his cock and put his hand out. “Come here,
sweeting.”
She lunged to put her chin onto his palm. He pressed his
hips forward until his cock bobbed near her mouth then teased her lips. Leaking
fluid all over her. She moaned.