Read Online Inside the Lines: Without a Trace series, a contemporary erotic romance novel by Ally Bishop - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ally Bishop
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insistence even more entertaining. I lose track of my sensual plan and end up with my head against his shoulder, hiccupping with laughter. “Oh my God,” I breathe, trying to recapture my composure. “You make it awfully hard to give you the ‘full treatment’ when you don’t like any of my specialties.” When his eyes widen, I fall back into giggles. “I’m kidding! God, I can’t breathe.” I wave my hands in front of my face, in an effort to…well, hell, I’m not sure why I do it, but it seems to help. I flop beside him, then glance up at him. “Oy. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”
“I’m glad to amuse you,” he says wryly. Then he smiles and kisses me, nearly taking my breath away again.
I push him back. “I don’t get involved in anything involving beatings or bullwhips, but I have used a clothespin or two in my time.” I wink. “How about this: we’ll play with a little bondage—no pain—and see how you like it? That will give you an opportunity to tell me what you think.” I place a hand on his chest, holding him back from kissing me again. “And listen—don’t say you like something if you don’t, just to make me happy. This is supposed to be fun and sexy for both parties.”
He lifts my hand from his chest, then kisses my fingertips before pressing his lips against my palm. “I promise.”
Chapter 11
Kinked
I don’t invite a lot of people into my bedroom. As a result, I tend to have clothing all over the place and various personal care products spread out over my dresser. So I barely recognize my own room. I’d picked up and put away everything, vacuumed and dusted and organized every corner, and generally recreated the entire space in the hours before Fin arrived.
I’d also set it up just in case he wanted to play. Hey, a girl can hope, can’t she? Our earlier conversation was wildly convenient for my hopes for tonight. I light the candles I’ve strategically placed around the room. True to my ink, I’m a fan of peacocks, so my room’s theme reflects as much in small accents.
He eyes the neatly made bed and firelight. “Either ye are verra perceptive, or I’m a suckling pig to slaughter.”
“I wasn’t even a Girl Scout,” I tease, but when he looks confused, I shake my head. “Never mind. I try to be prepared for every eventuality.” Something about this man makes me want to smile whenever I look at him, but I can’t analyze that too closely right now. Or ever, really. I sober, forcing myself into seriousness. “For the next hour, you will refer to me as Mistress or Mistress Hathaway. If I tell you to do something, you do it. Understood?”
My change of persona surprises him, but a slow grin spreads across his face. “Yes, Mistress.”
God, he is beautiful. I fight to keep from smiling in return. “If I do anything that you don’t like, you will tell me.”
“Should we have a safe word?”
I drop the facade for a moment. “No. We aren’t doing anything involving pain, and all you have to do is say something.”
“All right then.”
With a deep breath, I close my eyes, centering my thoughts and returning to Dom mode. “Take off your clothes. I want to see you.”
He complies, watching me while he does so. He pauses when he’s only in bikini briefs—which I recognize from the billboard. “Did you want me to take—”
“Did you not understand me?” I snap the words, eyes challenging.
He doesn’t look away, but instead meets my gaze as he removes his briefs. The intensity between us gives me a thrill, as a true submissive would break contact. I’ve never worked with someone who challenged me, and I’m surprised by how my stomach leaps with excitement.
He stands straight, unnervingly calm. And looking like my very own Greek god with his pale skin and muscled body. I swallow hard, resisting the impulse to break form and throw him on the bed now and have my way with him.
I swallow against the dry patch in my throat, then make
“I’m glad to amuse you,” he says wryly. Then he smiles and kisses me, nearly taking my breath away again.
I push him back. “I don’t get involved in anything involving beatings or bullwhips, but I have used a clothespin or two in my time.” I wink. “How about this: we’ll play with a little bondage—no pain—and see how you like it? That will give you an opportunity to tell me what you think.” I place a hand on his chest, holding him back from kissing me again. “And listen—don’t say you like something if you don’t, just to make me happy. This is supposed to be fun and sexy for both parties.”
He lifts my hand from his chest, then kisses my fingertips before pressing his lips against my palm. “I promise.”
Chapter 11
Kinked
I don’t invite a lot of people into my bedroom. As a result, I tend to have clothing all over the place and various personal care products spread out over my dresser. So I barely recognize my own room. I’d picked up and put away everything, vacuumed and dusted and organized every corner, and generally recreated the entire space in the hours before Fin arrived.
I’d also set it up just in case he wanted to play. Hey, a girl can hope, can’t she? Our earlier conversation was wildly convenient for my hopes for tonight. I light the candles I’ve strategically placed around the room. True to my ink, I’m a fan of peacocks, so my room’s theme reflects as much in small accents.
He eyes the neatly made bed and firelight. “Either ye are verra perceptive, or I’m a suckling pig to slaughter.”
“I wasn’t even a Girl Scout,” I tease, but when he looks confused, I shake my head. “Never mind. I try to be prepared for every eventuality.” Something about this man makes me want to smile whenever I look at him, but I can’t analyze that too closely right now. Or ever, really. I sober, forcing myself into seriousness. “For the next hour, you will refer to me as Mistress or Mistress Hathaway. If I tell you to do something, you do it. Understood?”
My change of persona surprises him, but a slow grin spreads across his face. “Yes, Mistress.”
God, he is beautiful. I fight to keep from smiling in return. “If I do anything that you don’t like, you will tell me.”
“Should we have a safe word?”
I drop the facade for a moment. “No. We aren’t doing anything involving pain, and all you have to do is say something.”
“All right then.”
With a deep breath, I close my eyes, centering my thoughts and returning to Dom mode. “Take off your clothes. I want to see you.”
He complies, watching me while he does so. He pauses when he’s only in bikini briefs—which I recognize from the billboard. “Did you want me to take—”
“Did you not understand me?” I snap the words, eyes challenging.
He doesn’t look away, but instead meets my gaze as he removes his briefs. The intensity between us gives me a thrill, as a true submissive would break contact. I’ve never worked with someone who challenged me, and I’m surprised by how my stomach leaps with excitement.
He stands straight, unnervingly calm. And looking like my very own Greek god with his pale skin and muscled body. I swallow hard, resisting the impulse to break form and throw him on the bed now and have my way with him.
I swallow against the dry patch in my throat, then make
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