Read Online Keeping His Promise (Year of the Billionaire Part 3) by K.C. Falls - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: K.C. Falls
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unlocked them for me.
Seven
"Are you ready for something a little different?"
"Unless you've packed some bizarre toys in your bag I can't imagine what we can do that would be as different as what we've already done."
"I am truly amazed that you underestimate me." He whipped open his robe and swung his hips so that his cock swayed like a pendulum between his thighs. Even flaccid, it was an impressive sight. "You see this magic wand of mine? You haven't even begun to test the limits of my carnal creativity."
I giggled. It seemed he intended to lighten the mood. It was one of the things I enjoyed most about being Tristan's lover. He could be passionate, dominant, tender, and even, at times, silly. Silly was good. We'd had a day that covered a lot of ground. He deserved to take the night off and just play. It was another measure of how he had transformed the way I thought about sex. With Tristan, I had permission to be anything, do anything with my body.
The doorbell startled me.
"Are we expecting company?" I had a sudden flashback to his comments in France about 'girls liking to play with other girls'. Surely I had made my position clear on that. There was a moment of panic before he opened the door. It was not a hired 'girl'. It was a waiter with a rolling table. There was an ice bucket and a couple domed dishes.
"In the bedroom, please," he told the waiter. Judging by the smile on his face when he left, the guy got a generous tip. "Now you in the bedroom, too."
"Good god, after that dinner you expect me to eat more? What kind of glutton do you think I am?"
"You, my sweet, fuckable one, are a glutton of the very best kind." He guided me over to the bed, slipped my robe off and seated me on the edge of the mattress. The bedside table had complimentary sleep masks and he pulled one out. "It'll be a lot more fun if you can't see."
"Are we having fun with food tonight?" I eyed the table next to the bed.
"Hush. Don't spoil it." He put the mask over my eyes. It was very effective; all I could see was blackness.
He lowered me onto my back and ran his hands down the length of my body. It was always an effort of some will not to just pull him against me and urge him to mount me. The mere touch of his silky fingers on my skin sent a signal to my clit that was impossible to ignore. Much as I longed to see him and watch his cock grow in front of me, I knew the power of the blindfold by now. He would soon have every other sense blazing.
He took one of my wrists and brought it above my head to the bedpost where he tied it. Then he walked around the big bed and tied the other one. "One of the key reasons hotels should always supply robes," he leaned down and whispered in my ear. "My neckties wouldn't be nearly long enough."
As before, the bonds were loose and I could have easily wriggled free. It was the idea that held me, not the knots. I loved the thought of being the object of his lust, of being captured in his desires and fantasies. He had considered and planned what he was going to do with my body and that made me wild for it.
"First, a little torture in your secret place."
I thought he meant my clit. He went for my belly button. A wet finger poked into my navel, hard enough to make me try to move away. In my body, there seems to be some connection between my belly button and my clit as if a wire runs between them. Tristan, damn him, remembered how sensitive I was there and intended to torment me. He pushed and circled and the sensation, while I couldn't describe it as painful, was just plain weird. I squirmed under his attention.
I felt his mouth on my belly next and his tongue probed where his finger had been. The connection remained, but the warm wet exploration of his mouth felt utterly different than the pressure of his fingertip. My pussy swelled and moistened and I couldn't contain a little moan of pleasure.
I heard the clink of something on the table. When the ice cube plopped in my navel was still warm
Seven
"Are you ready for something a little different?"
"Unless you've packed some bizarre toys in your bag I can't imagine what we can do that would be as different as what we've already done."
"I am truly amazed that you underestimate me." He whipped open his robe and swung his hips so that his cock swayed like a pendulum between his thighs. Even flaccid, it was an impressive sight. "You see this magic wand of mine? You haven't even begun to test the limits of my carnal creativity."
I giggled. It seemed he intended to lighten the mood. It was one of the things I enjoyed most about being Tristan's lover. He could be passionate, dominant, tender, and even, at times, silly. Silly was good. We'd had a day that covered a lot of ground. He deserved to take the night off and just play. It was another measure of how he had transformed the way I thought about sex. With Tristan, I had permission to be anything, do anything with my body.
The doorbell startled me.
"Are we expecting company?" I had a sudden flashback to his comments in France about 'girls liking to play with other girls'. Surely I had made my position clear on that. There was a moment of panic before he opened the door. It was not a hired 'girl'. It was a waiter with a rolling table. There was an ice bucket and a couple domed dishes.
"In the bedroom, please," he told the waiter. Judging by the smile on his face when he left, the guy got a generous tip. "Now you in the bedroom, too."
"Good god, after that dinner you expect me to eat more? What kind of glutton do you think I am?"
"You, my sweet, fuckable one, are a glutton of the very best kind." He guided me over to the bed, slipped my robe off and seated me on the edge of the mattress. The bedside table had complimentary sleep masks and he pulled one out. "It'll be a lot more fun if you can't see."
"Are we having fun with food tonight?" I eyed the table next to the bed.
"Hush. Don't spoil it." He put the mask over my eyes. It was very effective; all I could see was blackness.
He lowered me onto my back and ran his hands down the length of my body. It was always an effort of some will not to just pull him against me and urge him to mount me. The mere touch of his silky fingers on my skin sent a signal to my clit that was impossible to ignore. Much as I longed to see him and watch his cock grow in front of me, I knew the power of the blindfold by now. He would soon have every other sense blazing.
He took one of my wrists and brought it above my head to the bedpost where he tied it. Then he walked around the big bed and tied the other one. "One of the key reasons hotels should always supply robes," he leaned down and whispered in my ear. "My neckties wouldn't be nearly long enough."
As before, the bonds were loose and I could have easily wriggled free. It was the idea that held me, not the knots. I loved the thought of being the object of his lust, of being captured in his desires and fantasies. He had considered and planned what he was going to do with my body and that made me wild for it.
"First, a little torture in your secret place."
I thought he meant my clit. He went for my belly button. A wet finger poked into my navel, hard enough to make me try to move away. In my body, there seems to be some connection between my belly button and my clit as if a wire runs between them. Tristan, damn him, remembered how sensitive I was there and intended to torment me. He pushed and circled and the sensation, while I couldn't describe it as painful, was just plain weird. I squirmed under his attention.
I felt his mouth on my belly next and his tongue probed where his finger had been. The connection remained, but the warm wet exploration of his mouth felt utterly different than the pressure of his fingertip. My pussy swelled and moistened and I couldn't contain a little moan of pleasure.
I heard the clink of something on the table. When the ice cube plopped in my navel was still warm
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