Read Online Grey's Lady by Natasha Blackthorne - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Natasha Blackthorne
Tags: Erótica
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returned, clad only in a black dressing gown.
He handed her a flat, rectangular box, his expression so serious she was almost afraid to take it.
“Well? Open it.” Boyish earnestness made his handsome face all the more gorgeous. All thumbs with the latch, she dropped the box.
He picked it up, unlatched it and handed it to her. She opened it. Inside, against plush red velvet, laid a double strand of luminescent pearls, small and perfectly matched. She traced her finger over them. She’d never touched anything so lovely in her life.
And she knew they didn’t come without a price.
Chapter Six
“I don’t need these.” She stared at the pearls as if they might turn into a snake.
“But I want you to have them.”
The edge in his voice made her jerk her head up. “Where would I wear them?”
“You could start by wearing them for me.”
He picked the box up, removed the necklace and moved behind her. Brushing the hair off her shoulders, he placed the strand about her neck. The pearls lay cool and heavy against her throat and collarbone.
He traced his fingers across her nipples. “See how erotic the pearls look against your beautiful breasts.”
She glanced down. His dark hand contrasted with the twin rope of pearls gleaming against her pale flesh. Her cunt clenched and wetness seeped over her inner folds.
“Come here.” He led her to the mahogany Chippendale dresser, then cupped her face and kissed her deeply. After several moments, he lifted his head and turned her to face the framed mirror and hugged her from behind. She’d never seen herself like this. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the image of her pale, petite nakedness and his strong arm latched about her waist. His dark head fitted into the curve of her neck.
He slowly pulled the necklace backwards, the smooth beads a cool, continuous slide along her skin. Snug against her throat, the pearls made an expensive-looking collar. He brought a hand to rest beneath them, at her collarbone. His other hand rolled the pearls against her back, a slow and steady silken sensation. Her nipples drew into tight, pink points, as if jealous of the attention he lavished on the necklace.
He traced the clasp with a fingertip, bringing her attention to it. She hadn’t noticed it before but the latch wasn’t a simple latch. It sparkled with fire. Tiny diamonds surrounded an oblong, deep blue stone gleaming with the slightest hint of violet. She sucked in her breath.
A sapphire—oh, but surely not real. No, it must be paste.
But he didn’t strike her as a paste kind of gentleman.
She opened her mouth to speak but he stroked her breasts in feather-soft circles, driving whatever she had intended to say out of her mind. Soon all she could do was long for him to touch her aching peaks but he seemed to be purposely avoiding them.
Finally, he brushed them with his fingertips. She whimpered for more and he gradually increased the pressure, pinching them between his thumbs and forefingers.
In the mirror, she watched his hand slide down her belly to the pale blonde hair at her junction. He traced her outer lips, an unhurried counterpoint to the urgent throb of his erection against her bottom. At the barest touch of his fingertip to her nub, she writhed, wriggling her bottom against his cock.
“Plead for me, Beth.” His voice was as smooth as sin.
She laughed huskily. She wouldn’t beg. At least she hoped she wouldn’t.
“You will,” he assured her.
“I doubt it, not this time.”
He sank two fingers into her, giving her what she needed. Pressure, speed—driving her into an unbearable tension. Any moment. Oh, oh, oh—any moment now. She caught her breath, closed her eyes, her mouth falling open, waited for the perfection to claim her.
He stopped and she remained there, on the edge of ecstasy. His large, warm hand rested lightly over her aching cunt. She pressed against it, rubbed. But it wasn’t enough. Her desire was too built up now. She
He handed her a flat, rectangular box, his expression so serious she was almost afraid to take it.
“Well? Open it.” Boyish earnestness made his handsome face all the more gorgeous. All thumbs with the latch, she dropped the box.
He picked it up, unlatched it and handed it to her. She opened it. Inside, against plush red velvet, laid a double strand of luminescent pearls, small and perfectly matched. She traced her finger over them. She’d never touched anything so lovely in her life.
And she knew they didn’t come without a price.
Chapter Six
“I don’t need these.” She stared at the pearls as if they might turn into a snake.
“But I want you to have them.”
The edge in his voice made her jerk her head up. “Where would I wear them?”
“You could start by wearing them for me.”
He picked the box up, removed the necklace and moved behind her. Brushing the hair off her shoulders, he placed the strand about her neck. The pearls lay cool and heavy against her throat and collarbone.
He traced his fingers across her nipples. “See how erotic the pearls look against your beautiful breasts.”
She glanced down. His dark hand contrasted with the twin rope of pearls gleaming against her pale flesh. Her cunt clenched and wetness seeped over her inner folds.
“Come here.” He led her to the mahogany Chippendale dresser, then cupped her face and kissed her deeply. After several moments, he lifted his head and turned her to face the framed mirror and hugged her from behind. She’d never seen herself like this. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the image of her pale, petite nakedness and his strong arm latched about her waist. His dark head fitted into the curve of her neck.
He slowly pulled the necklace backwards, the smooth beads a cool, continuous slide along her skin. Snug against her throat, the pearls made an expensive-looking collar. He brought a hand to rest beneath them, at her collarbone. His other hand rolled the pearls against her back, a slow and steady silken sensation. Her nipples drew into tight, pink points, as if jealous of the attention he lavished on the necklace.
He traced the clasp with a fingertip, bringing her attention to it. She hadn’t noticed it before but the latch wasn’t a simple latch. It sparkled with fire. Tiny diamonds surrounded an oblong, deep blue stone gleaming with the slightest hint of violet. She sucked in her breath.
A sapphire—oh, but surely not real. No, it must be paste.
But he didn’t strike her as a paste kind of gentleman.
She opened her mouth to speak but he stroked her breasts in feather-soft circles, driving whatever she had intended to say out of her mind. Soon all she could do was long for him to touch her aching peaks but he seemed to be purposely avoiding them.
Finally, he brushed them with his fingertips. She whimpered for more and he gradually increased the pressure, pinching them between his thumbs and forefingers.
In the mirror, she watched his hand slide down her belly to the pale blonde hair at her junction. He traced her outer lips, an unhurried counterpoint to the urgent throb of his erection against her bottom. At the barest touch of his fingertip to her nub, she writhed, wriggling her bottom against his cock.
“Plead for me, Beth.” His voice was as smooth as sin.
She laughed huskily. She wouldn’t beg. At least she hoped she wouldn’t.
“You will,” he assured her.
“I doubt it, not this time.”
He sank two fingers into her, giving her what she needed. Pressure, speed—driving her into an unbearable tension. Any moment. Oh, oh, oh—any moment now. She caught her breath, closed her eyes, her mouth falling open, waited for the perfection to claim her.
He stopped and she remained there, on the edge of ecstasy. His large, warm hand rested lightly over her aching cunt. She pressed against it, rubbed. But it wasn’t enough. Her desire was too built up now. She
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