Read Online The Parlour (VDB #1) by Charlotte E Hart - Free Book Online
Authors: Charlotte E Hart
Ads: Link
her, or maybe she was right with her devil description. When I see the corner of his mouth turning upwards from the side, I know I’ve seen what she means, because I can feel my knickers throwing themselves at him. They’re literally tugging at me as if I should cast them aside and immediately part my legs for him. Lord knows what will happen if I get to see his eyes, too. I can’t breathe. What the fuck is that?
“Clarissa,” he says as he steps toward her. I watch as she visibly shrinks away from him, perhaps in fear, or maybe respect might be a better word. He picks up the cane he’s holding and taps her cheek with the end of it. She flinches a little and looks at the floor. “You were disrespectful the last time we met, yes?”
“Sir, yes, Sir,” she replies quietly, somehow managing to make herself look even smaller.
“You are lucky he has me amused. My disappointment with you has been somewhat overcome. Although you should still apologize correctly, I think. Hmm?” She’s immediately on the floor for him, just as she told me, kneeling with her forehead on the cream marble in front of her. I’m no expert in these matters, but I’m pretty sure a Domme shouldn’t be kneeling for anyone. He snorts in disgust and stares down at her. “Where are your new morons? I feel inclined to take them from you for a time. Perhaps they can take your punishment for you, hmm?” he says crisply as he turns his head to search the space. My legs instantly give way as his eyes meet mine. I can see nothing but green, nothing. His hold on me is so intense that I’m not even concentrating on keeping my body up anymore. I’m just gazing into a green kind of hell. I know that, and I don’t want to do a thing about it. In fact, I think my soul just crawled across the floor to him, and I hope to Christ he doesn’t smile at me.
“What have we here?” he says as those legs of his start moving. “Hmm? An array of possibilities waiting for me.”
“Pascal, no, please,” Vixon says, or I think it was her. It might be one of the apparent morons still holding me up. I don’t know, because I’m utterly lost. My mind is functioning less and less by the second as he keeps moving at me with cat-like precision. I’ve never known the world to cease to exist around someone before, never understood what that meant, but with him, it does. There is nothing but green eyes, and lips that are slowly curving upwards in my vision. I wish I could stop my face from staring at him through the outside blur. I wish I could stay in control of the muscles that are supposed to be helping me to remain standing, but as I watch that smile increase into some kind of disaster of beauty, I know I’ve got nothing to fight with.
“Name, my dear?” he says softly as he stops in front of me. I stare up at him in fascination and open my mouth to respond. “And do let go of her.” My arms are dropped the instant he commands it, and I crash to the floor in a heap at his feet. Thankfully, I lose eye contact the moment it happens, which appears to allow my brain to function again. It’s probably best not to look at him, isn’t it? That’s what Vixon said, just stay on the floor. That’s clearly what she meant.
“Lilah James.” My voice comes out squeaky, and I’m so amused by the sound of it that I laugh at my own absurdity.
“Lilah James, you are British.” I’m not sure if it’s a statement or a question, so I just nod my head and keep my eyes away from him. Not ready. I’m not ready. I wish something would tell my knickers that because they’re still trying to escape at the tone of his voice. “Lilah, are you to be sold? I may need to test the product?” My eyes snap up to his with no care for the effect. No, I am fucking not. Near whore I may be but I’m certainly not for sale, unless he’s buying me, then I might think twice.
“No, I’m not for sale,” I reply quietly.
“Hmm,” he muses as he looks me over and then offers me
“Clarissa,” he says as he steps toward her. I watch as she visibly shrinks away from him, perhaps in fear, or maybe respect might be a better word. He picks up the cane he’s holding and taps her cheek with the end of it. She flinches a little and looks at the floor. “You were disrespectful the last time we met, yes?”
“Sir, yes, Sir,” she replies quietly, somehow managing to make herself look even smaller.
“You are lucky he has me amused. My disappointment with you has been somewhat overcome. Although you should still apologize correctly, I think. Hmm?” She’s immediately on the floor for him, just as she told me, kneeling with her forehead on the cream marble in front of her. I’m no expert in these matters, but I’m pretty sure a Domme shouldn’t be kneeling for anyone. He snorts in disgust and stares down at her. “Where are your new morons? I feel inclined to take them from you for a time. Perhaps they can take your punishment for you, hmm?” he says crisply as he turns his head to search the space. My legs instantly give way as his eyes meet mine. I can see nothing but green, nothing. His hold on me is so intense that I’m not even concentrating on keeping my body up anymore. I’m just gazing into a green kind of hell. I know that, and I don’t want to do a thing about it. In fact, I think my soul just crawled across the floor to him, and I hope to Christ he doesn’t smile at me.
“What have we here?” he says as those legs of his start moving. “Hmm? An array of possibilities waiting for me.”
“Pascal, no, please,” Vixon says, or I think it was her. It might be one of the apparent morons still holding me up. I don’t know, because I’m utterly lost. My mind is functioning less and less by the second as he keeps moving at me with cat-like precision. I’ve never known the world to cease to exist around someone before, never understood what that meant, but with him, it does. There is nothing but green eyes, and lips that are slowly curving upwards in my vision. I wish I could stop my face from staring at him through the outside blur. I wish I could stay in control of the muscles that are supposed to be helping me to remain standing, but as I watch that smile increase into some kind of disaster of beauty, I know I’ve got nothing to fight with.
“Name, my dear?” he says softly as he stops in front of me. I stare up at him in fascination and open my mouth to respond. “And do let go of her.” My arms are dropped the instant he commands it, and I crash to the floor in a heap at his feet. Thankfully, I lose eye contact the moment it happens, which appears to allow my brain to function again. It’s probably best not to look at him, isn’t it? That’s what Vixon said, just stay on the floor. That’s clearly what she meant.
“Lilah James.” My voice comes out squeaky, and I’m so amused by the sound of it that I laugh at my own absurdity.
“Lilah James, you are British.” I’m not sure if it’s a statement or a question, so I just nod my head and keep my eyes away from him. Not ready. I’m not ready. I wish something would tell my knickers that because they’re still trying to escape at the tone of his voice. “Lilah, are you to be sold? I may need to test the product?” My eyes snap up to his with no care for the effect. No, I am fucking not. Near whore I may be but I’m certainly not for sale, unless he’s buying me, then I might think twice.
“No, I’m not for sale,” I reply quietly.
“Hmm,” he muses as he looks me over and then offers me
Similar Books
