to get the rest of it?”
“Did you need rings?”
“Rings?”
“For your nipples and labia.”
Lolita actually stuttered when she said, “No thank you…uh…”
“Jules,” she supplied.
“Jules. No thank you, Jules. I don’t need nipple rings.”
“Would you like some for your labia, then?”
Lolita could feel her face growing pale. “No. I would like a skirt or ...or…panties…not worn ones…”
Jules laughed at that. “You will find makeup in the bathroom Mademoiselle. Enjoy your night.”
The door shut behind her. Lolita shook her head, gingerly prodded at the corset and stockings. The bathroom door popped open and Darien strolled out, bringing the smell of some masculine soap with him. She turned around to ask him just what the hell kind of party they were going to but the words died on her lips. He was naked but for a towel tied casually around his lean waist, a curl of blonde pubic hair, slightly darker than the hair on his head, peeked above the white towel, making her nipples constrict and harden.
“You should hurry in the shower,” was all he said.
She stared at him, then at the ludicrous getup they had given her to wear and back at his face. Her body hummed with expectancy; suddenly she wanted to wear that outfit, to show him her nakedness, to be in his arms and to feel the press of him against her mound and breasts.
She went into the bathroom and took stock of the luxurious soaps and cosmetics. She selected a jasmine infused bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo that had hints of lilies and honeysuckle in its depths. She turned on the water, let it steam up the bathroom, and then climbed in.
She pressed the rag to her dripping center, holding it there. The pressure against her clit felt good, so good that her knees threatened to buckle and she had to force her hand away. She was on fire with desire but she knew that if she took her pleasure now there would be less later in the evening, and she wanted Darien.
She did not trust him…but she wanted him.
She rested her head on the wall of the shower and let the hot water wash over her long and elegant body. Is that all it was, she simply wanted him? She knew that was not so but loving a man like Darien Knight was not just dangerous it was also foolish.
She knew his kind all too well. He was a charmer with a silver tongue who would steal the watch of a woman’s wrist even as he kissed her hand. Could she live with a man like that?
That thought confused her even more. They barely tolerated each other most of the time, how could she even contemplate living under the same roof. She turned the water faucets to cold and stuck her head beneath the icy spray to banish those thoughts but the chilled water did nothing to dampen her passion.
She had no idea of how to get into the corset but Darien did. He unlaced the stays and held it out so that she could step into it. He buttoned the steel busk down the front, each time he clicked one of the tiny little locks into place she gasped. His hands went under the corset, against her flesh as he hooked her into it and she squirmed, trying not to show her feelings but his head was at the junction of her thighs and her scent and the slippery oils that beaded up and fell from her swollen lips gave her away.
He moved behind her. The laces jerked tight, tipping her off-balance until she grabbed the post of the bed and clung to it. The laces pulled again, reducing her waist to a mere wisp, and her breasts rose full high and proud over the top.
She had pulled her hair, back to its natural ash-blonde color, high and tight on her head, leaving just a few tendrils to riot around her face. She had foregone makeup, deciding that a little innocence was needed to offset the outfit. Her wide eyes were clear and her pink lips unpainted. Darien’s pelvis thrust against her bottom as he tied the long laces of the corset, his hardened dick poking into the lower half of her cheeks.
He turned her around to face him.
“Did you need rings?”
“Rings?”
“For your nipples and labia.”
Lolita actually stuttered when she said, “No thank you…uh…”
“Jules,” she supplied.
“Jules. No thank you, Jules. I don’t need nipple rings.”
“Would you like some for your labia, then?”
Lolita could feel her face growing pale. “No. I would like a skirt or ...or…panties…not worn ones…”
Jules laughed at that. “You will find makeup in the bathroom Mademoiselle. Enjoy your night.”
The door shut behind her. Lolita shook her head, gingerly prodded at the corset and stockings. The bathroom door popped open and Darien strolled out, bringing the smell of some masculine soap with him. She turned around to ask him just what the hell kind of party they were going to but the words died on her lips. He was naked but for a towel tied casually around his lean waist, a curl of blonde pubic hair, slightly darker than the hair on his head, peeked above the white towel, making her nipples constrict and harden.
“You should hurry in the shower,” was all he said.
She stared at him, then at the ludicrous getup they had given her to wear and back at his face. Her body hummed with expectancy; suddenly she wanted to wear that outfit, to show him her nakedness, to be in his arms and to feel the press of him against her mound and breasts.
She went into the bathroom and took stock of the luxurious soaps and cosmetics. She selected a jasmine infused bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo that had hints of lilies and honeysuckle in its depths. She turned on the water, let it steam up the bathroom, and then climbed in.
She pressed the rag to her dripping center, holding it there. The pressure against her clit felt good, so good that her knees threatened to buckle and she had to force her hand away. She was on fire with desire but she knew that if she took her pleasure now there would be less later in the evening, and she wanted Darien.
She did not trust him…but she wanted him.
She rested her head on the wall of the shower and let the hot water wash over her long and elegant body. Is that all it was, she simply wanted him? She knew that was not so but loving a man like Darien Knight was not just dangerous it was also foolish.
She knew his kind all too well. He was a charmer with a silver tongue who would steal the watch of a woman’s wrist even as he kissed her hand. Could she live with a man like that?
That thought confused her even more. They barely tolerated each other most of the time, how could she even contemplate living under the same roof. She turned the water faucets to cold and stuck her head beneath the icy spray to banish those thoughts but the chilled water did nothing to dampen her passion.
She had no idea of how to get into the corset but Darien did. He unlaced the stays and held it out so that she could step into it. He buttoned the steel busk down the front, each time he clicked one of the tiny little locks into place she gasped. His hands went under the corset, against her flesh as he hooked her into it and she squirmed, trying not to show her feelings but his head was at the junction of her thighs and her scent and the slippery oils that beaded up and fell from her swollen lips gave her away.
He moved behind her. The laces jerked tight, tipping her off-balance until she grabbed the post of the bed and clung to it. The laces pulled again, reducing her waist to a mere wisp, and her breasts rose full high and proud over the top.
She had pulled her hair, back to its natural ash-blonde color, high and tight on her head, leaving just a few tendrils to riot around her face. She had foregone makeup, deciding that a little innocence was needed to offset the outfit. Her wide eyes were clear and her pink lips unpainted. Darien’s pelvis thrust against her bottom as he tied the long laces of the corset, his hardened dick poking into the lower half of her cheeks.
He turned her around to face him.
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