Read Online Desire's Sirocco by Charlotte Boyett-Compo - Free Book Online

but quickly at the nipple.”
    A prolonged whimper of pleasure erupted from Jameela’s arched throat and she squirmed on the stool, grinding her rump against the wood.
    “Aye,” Dagan whispered in his throaty voice. “Now turn your left hand over and slip it between your legs.”
    Jameela hesitated, the thought of touching herself there , in that forbidden place, where she was never supposed to venture, giving her a moment’s pause. But the mesmerizing voice of her Trainer, the seductive growl of his encouraging voice overcame any prim reservations she had and she slipped her hand between her thighs.
    “Stroke the heat of your womanhood, Wench,” Dagan commanded. “Feel the silk of the hair, the softness of your flesh, the wetness forming between the hidden folds.”
    By the time her hand had traversed its course the fourth time, Jameela began to pant. Her entire body was alive with pinpricks of energy rippling over the flesh of her arms. There was a delicious aching between her thighs and heaviness deep in her belly.
    “Let your middle finger slip between the folds and discover the wetness lurking there then quickly remove it. Venture no further until I order it.”
    “Um,” Jameela sighed.
    “Remove your right hand from your breast and slide it down your chest and belly to the crease of your right thigh.”
    There was an itch building in Jameela’s depths, a need that felt like a rosebud about to burst into bloom. She shifted against the wooden seat, her hips lifting, searching, seeking.
    “Very gently, I want you to take the index and middle finger of your left hand and slide them up to straddle your clitoris. Do you remember me explaining where that is on your body?” At her slow nod, his voice grew huskier still. “Then place your fingers there and spread them apart and a little upward so the hood will pull back and the Pearl of Passion can be exposed.”
    “Dagan, I…” she began but he shushed her.
    “Don’t speak; don’t think, Wench! Experience! Keep your eyes closed and do as I command.”
    Jameela’s fingers spread the hot moistness of her nether lips and she felt the slick head of her clitoris slide free of its hood.
    “Put the middle finger of your right hand in your mouth and wet it,” he said and his voice was only a breath of sound against the side of her face.
    Doing as she was told, she was then instructed to place the tip of her wet finger against the sensitive bud of her clitoris.
    The moment she touched herself in that responsive spot, she shuddered with pleasure.
    “Stroke it, Wench,” Dagan ordered, his own breathing harsh and fast in her head. “Circle it. Dip your finger into your core then stroke the Pearl of Passion until you…”
    “Argh!” Jameela shrieked, climaxing so fiercely her body turned rigid from spread toes to up thrust breasts. She squeezed her legs closed and shuddered.
    “Aye,” Dagan whispered, encircling her in his arms. He crushed her to him. “Aye, my Wench. My beautiful, vibrant Wench.”
    She went limp against him, every fiber of her being alive. She panted with the violence of release and knew a moment of transcending pleasure unlike any she had experience the night before.
    “Did you enjoy that?” he whispered.
    “Aye,” she groaned and shivered again, bringing her hands up to grasp his strong arms that were crossed around her.
    “There was no shame in the pleasure, was there?”
    “No.”
    “Only a wondrous joy that has left you sated?”
    “Aye,” she sighed.
    “Good.” He tightened his grip. “Then I am pleased that you are pleased.”
    She surprised him by turning violently in his arms and throwing her arms around his lean hips. She pressed herself to him and broke into wretched sobbing.
    “Jameela?” he asked, shock in his tone. “Milady, what is wrong?” When she did not answer, only wailed the louder, he broke her hold on him and slipped to his knees in front of her, reaching up to take her face in his hands. “Tell