Read Online Five Golden Rings (Facets of Passion) by Jeffe Kennedy - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jeffe Kennedy
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earrings. Black eyeliner, much thicker than she usually went for, and a deep red lipstick she’d bought on impulse and never worn. She looked surprisingly good, considering the extended crying jag. But she felt light and unburdened, leaving a happiness behind that shone through in her bright eyes and tanned skin.
No one from home would recognize her and the idea oddly pleased her.
* * *
Miguel greeted her with a glass of champagne, his keen gaze assessing her. “You look spectacular. Still up for more?”
She tossed back the wine with a grin. “You haven’t scared me off yet. You look most handsome yourself.”
He wore a black suit this time, cut in lean lines, with a gleaming ebony tie against a matching matte silk shirt. An expensive-looking belt circled his hips, wicked leather with a dark inlaid buckle. Seeing her notice it, he stroked his fingers along the braided surface and smiled suggestively. “For the final spanking. So you can be prepared this time.”
She wished she hadn’t guzzled the champagne, because she could really use another sip. Desire rushed through her, clean and hot. “Maybe we should just stay in.”
He took the glass from her and set it on the counter. “Turn around.”
Was he going to do it now? Her heart stuttered, but she did as he said, closing her eyes when he drew down the back zipper of her dress and let it slip down her body to pool on the floor.
“No underwear,” he instructed and set the jewelry and vibrator boxes on the counter, then poured them both more champagne. Taking his, he sat on the couch, crossing his long legs. “Strip, give me your bra and panties, then put your jewelry on.”
Feeling a bit like the floor show, she stood naked but for her heels and applied the nipple rings and clit clamp to herself for the first time. It wasn’t as easy as it looked and she would have been a little embarrassed by her fumbling if he hadn’t watched her with such avid hunger in his face, idly toying with his belt buckle. Instead of abating his intensity, their escalating games only seemed to be bringing out the wolf in Miguel. He hardly resembled the worn and slightly frazzled lawyer she’d met on the plane.
As soon as she inserted the bullet, he slipped a hand in his pocket and clicked it on to a low level. Then he tossed back the rest of his glass and stood. “What are you waiting for?” He grinned at her. All the better to eat you with. “Put your dress back on. We can hardly go dancing with you naked, tempting as the image might be.”
Flustered, having forgotten entirely about dancing, she pulled the dress on and waited, almost shyly, for him to zip it up. In the elevator, he wrapped an arm around her waist and nuzzled her temple. With the other hand, he cupped her breast through the silk, compressing the ring around her nipple so that she squirmed against him, his warm chuckle huffing against her skin.
“You delight me, Roo. Have I told you that? An unexpected pleasure.”
“I’m feeling rather delighted myself,” she answered, pleased and flattered. Odd how the nature of their fling allowed them to be honest with each other in a way she rarely found in relationships. No expectations or tests for future longevity. Eight more days of pleasuring each other and they’d move on. It allowed for a kind of openness she could rarely afford.
The evening passed in an erotic haze. Miguel kept the bullet at least on low, sometimes kicking it up during a slow dance, supporting her while she concentrated on not coming—something made infinitely more difficult by the way he whispered wicked suggestions in her ear, while nipping her lobe with sharp teeth.
They ate, drank and danced under the stars, Miguel treating her with a casual sexual ferocity and extravagant romance that combined into a heady mix that overcame her as much as the titillation of the clamps and bullet. He held her close, running casual hands over her hips, reminding her what they both knew, that she
No one from home would recognize her and the idea oddly pleased her.
* * *
Miguel greeted her with a glass of champagne, his keen gaze assessing her. “You look spectacular. Still up for more?”
She tossed back the wine with a grin. “You haven’t scared me off yet. You look most handsome yourself.”
He wore a black suit this time, cut in lean lines, with a gleaming ebony tie against a matching matte silk shirt. An expensive-looking belt circled his hips, wicked leather with a dark inlaid buckle. Seeing her notice it, he stroked his fingers along the braided surface and smiled suggestively. “For the final spanking. So you can be prepared this time.”
She wished she hadn’t guzzled the champagne, because she could really use another sip. Desire rushed through her, clean and hot. “Maybe we should just stay in.”
He took the glass from her and set it on the counter. “Turn around.”
Was he going to do it now? Her heart stuttered, but she did as he said, closing her eyes when he drew down the back zipper of her dress and let it slip down her body to pool on the floor.
“No underwear,” he instructed and set the jewelry and vibrator boxes on the counter, then poured them both more champagne. Taking his, he sat on the couch, crossing his long legs. “Strip, give me your bra and panties, then put your jewelry on.”
Feeling a bit like the floor show, she stood naked but for her heels and applied the nipple rings and clit clamp to herself for the first time. It wasn’t as easy as it looked and she would have been a little embarrassed by her fumbling if he hadn’t watched her with such avid hunger in his face, idly toying with his belt buckle. Instead of abating his intensity, their escalating games only seemed to be bringing out the wolf in Miguel. He hardly resembled the worn and slightly frazzled lawyer she’d met on the plane.
As soon as she inserted the bullet, he slipped a hand in his pocket and clicked it on to a low level. Then he tossed back the rest of his glass and stood. “What are you waiting for?” He grinned at her. All the better to eat you with. “Put your dress back on. We can hardly go dancing with you naked, tempting as the image might be.”
Flustered, having forgotten entirely about dancing, she pulled the dress on and waited, almost shyly, for him to zip it up. In the elevator, he wrapped an arm around her waist and nuzzled her temple. With the other hand, he cupped her breast through the silk, compressing the ring around her nipple so that she squirmed against him, his warm chuckle huffing against her skin.
“You delight me, Roo. Have I told you that? An unexpected pleasure.”
“I’m feeling rather delighted myself,” she answered, pleased and flattered. Odd how the nature of their fling allowed them to be honest with each other in a way she rarely found in relationships. No expectations or tests for future longevity. Eight more days of pleasuring each other and they’d move on. It allowed for a kind of openness she could rarely afford.
The evening passed in an erotic haze. Miguel kept the bullet at least on low, sometimes kicking it up during a slow dance, supporting her while she concentrated on not coming—something made infinitely more difficult by the way he whispered wicked suggestions in her ear, while nipping her lobe with sharp teeth.
They ate, drank and danced under the stars, Miguel treating her with a casual sexual ferocity and extravagant romance that combined into a heady mix that overcame her as much as the titillation of the clamps and bullet. He held her close, running casual hands over her hips, reminding her what they both knew, that she
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