Gladiator’s Prize and stuck her nose in the air when he smirked. She added a bejeweled belly chain. He countered with a chandelier earring she’d dangled from her nipple by its ear wire and had forgotten in his hotel room one long year ago. He grinned when he beat her two pair.
She dealt the next hand, picked up a tile and flipped it over. Into the drink, it never shrinks. One very slim, pink jelly dildo, sans black leather harness. He set a small brocade box in the pot and opened the lid revealing a set of silver Ben Wa balls, which she saw with a box of iridescent glow-in-the-dark condoms. His straight would have beaten her two pair if they hadn’t been playing lowball.
He dealt the third and last hand, the one they couldn’t change and his tile read Squeeze Me. Tease Me. One adjustable cockring . She wasn’t even attempting to hide her smile when she laid down the ball harness she’d already used on him and with any luck would again, and added the braided red cords.
She laid her full house down, aces high with a pair of fives. He let her enjoy herself for about three seconds before laying down his straight flush, all diamonds.
“If I didn’t know you better I’d be looking for marks on these cards,” she laughed.
“That would be like slapping a coat of paint on a priceless antique,” he said, just managing to keep the tremor of excitement out of his voice. “I’ve never understood wanting to change something that was perfect already.” He eyed the treasure on the table but he already knew what he wanted. He grabbed the pink jelly dildo and the bottle of vanilla massage oil.
“Wait until I call you and feel free to make use of anything left on the table.”
“Oh, your wish is my command,” she laughed, taking a sip of wine. “For tonight anyway.”
After starting the bath he unrolled a cushioned exercise mat, laid it over the oriental carpet closest to the sunken tub, layered plush white towels over that and angled the cheval glass to catch it all. He lit the candle sconces set into alcoves along the walls, opened the sliding doors to the outside walled garden letting in the scent of lavender and the sound of the rippling fountain. It was as close to a Roman Bath as she was going to get tonight. He was already hard thinking about doing the work of two men when he slipped a handful of condoms beneath the towels.
He shrugged off his jeans and tucked a towel around his hips. He couldn’t resist carrying her from the living room to the bath. When he released her she slid against him, kissing him while he untied her towel toga and let it fall. She was wearing the silver nipple clamps and belly chain, candlelight sparkling off the small ruby heart pointed like an arrow down to her bare lips—smooth as a peach, plump and perfect.
Ella let her eyes drift shut for the moment it took him to lower her to the towel-covered mat. “I thought this was supposed to be your fantasy.”
“I haven’t been able to think of much else since I sketched you,” he whispered against her lips. She shivered, opened her eyes and lay back with her arms above her head, anticipation sizzling through her as he poured warm oil between her breasts and released the clamps. The slight pressure had built to just the right peak to appreciate the slide of his tongue over her sensitized nipples, the soothing caress of his lips.
He looked good in candlelight but then she was beginning to believe he couldn’t look bad. Candlelight danced off his muscles, shadowing the dark gold line of hair that arrowed down his stomach into the towel at his waist. She traced it and slipped her fingers beneath his terrycloth wrap, reached for him until he took both her wrists and crossed them above her head.
The scent of vanilla permeated the heated mist of the room. Ella submersed herself in the fragrance and the first touch of his fingers smoothing the oil around each breast drawing her into an arch with a slight tug of her nipples before
She dealt the next hand, picked up a tile and flipped it over. Into the drink, it never shrinks. One very slim, pink jelly dildo, sans black leather harness. He set a small brocade box in the pot and opened the lid revealing a set of silver Ben Wa balls, which she saw with a box of iridescent glow-in-the-dark condoms. His straight would have beaten her two pair if they hadn’t been playing lowball.
He dealt the third and last hand, the one they couldn’t change and his tile read Squeeze Me. Tease Me. One adjustable cockring . She wasn’t even attempting to hide her smile when she laid down the ball harness she’d already used on him and with any luck would again, and added the braided red cords.
She laid her full house down, aces high with a pair of fives. He let her enjoy herself for about three seconds before laying down his straight flush, all diamonds.
“If I didn’t know you better I’d be looking for marks on these cards,” she laughed.
“That would be like slapping a coat of paint on a priceless antique,” he said, just managing to keep the tremor of excitement out of his voice. “I’ve never understood wanting to change something that was perfect already.” He eyed the treasure on the table but he already knew what he wanted. He grabbed the pink jelly dildo and the bottle of vanilla massage oil.
“Wait until I call you and feel free to make use of anything left on the table.”
“Oh, your wish is my command,” she laughed, taking a sip of wine. “For tonight anyway.”
After starting the bath he unrolled a cushioned exercise mat, laid it over the oriental carpet closest to the sunken tub, layered plush white towels over that and angled the cheval glass to catch it all. He lit the candle sconces set into alcoves along the walls, opened the sliding doors to the outside walled garden letting in the scent of lavender and the sound of the rippling fountain. It was as close to a Roman Bath as she was going to get tonight. He was already hard thinking about doing the work of two men when he slipped a handful of condoms beneath the towels.
He shrugged off his jeans and tucked a towel around his hips. He couldn’t resist carrying her from the living room to the bath. When he released her she slid against him, kissing him while he untied her towel toga and let it fall. She was wearing the silver nipple clamps and belly chain, candlelight sparkling off the small ruby heart pointed like an arrow down to her bare lips—smooth as a peach, plump and perfect.
Ella let her eyes drift shut for the moment it took him to lower her to the towel-covered mat. “I thought this was supposed to be your fantasy.”
“I haven’t been able to think of much else since I sketched you,” he whispered against her lips. She shivered, opened her eyes and lay back with her arms above her head, anticipation sizzling through her as he poured warm oil between her breasts and released the clamps. The slight pressure had built to just the right peak to appreciate the slide of his tongue over her sensitized nipples, the soothing caress of his lips.
He looked good in candlelight but then she was beginning to believe he couldn’t look bad. Candlelight danced off his muscles, shadowing the dark gold line of hair that arrowed down his stomach into the towel at his waist. She traced it and slipped her fingers beneath his terrycloth wrap, reached for him until he took both her wrists and crossed them above her head.
The scent of vanilla permeated the heated mist of the room. Ella submersed herself in the fragrance and the first touch of his fingers smoothing the oil around each breast drawing her into an arch with a slight tug of her nipples before
Similar Books
It's Always Darkest Before the Fridge Door Opens: Enjoying the Fruits of Middle Age
Phil Callaway, Martha O. Bolton
