When I'm with You (Because You Are Mine 2) - Page 90/111

“Can you handle that?” he asked quietly.

She nodded. The pinch was abrasive on the sensitive flesh, but the sensation was a highly erotic one as well; one that she couldn’t escape. She truly would be a slave to the experience all night . . . a slave to Lucien and her desire to please him.

He attached the chain to her other nipple and stood, his gaze glued to her breasts. Unlike last night, this time Elise could see herself in the mirror. Even she had to admit that the jeweled combination of the necklace and nipple chain was stunning to behold. As in all things, his taste was immaculate. Her clit twanged with arousal. She experienced an almost overwhelming desire to touch herself, to rid herself of this plaguing ache.

Lucien picked up the white blouse and held it up for her to put on. She met his stare in amazement.

“That’s a sheer blouse. I can’t go out in public without a bra and camisole on under it . . . let alone wearing this thing,” she said, pointing to the swaying nipple chain.

“I told you I wouldn’t expose you. You will wear a jacket and button it until we are alone together. No one will know.” He jerked up the blouse an inch, a hard look on his face. She had no choice but to turn and slide on the blouse. He buttoned it for her. When he reached the button covering the sapphire weights on the chain, she gasped at the tug on her nipples.

“Okay?” he murmured, his long fingers pausing.

“Yes,” she managed. For a moment, she could perfectly feel her heartbeat in the swollen crests, causing a pleasurable throb. His fingertip brushed ever so lightly against a nipple, teasing her. Heat rushed through her at the erotic sensation and the primal flash in his gray eyes. If only he’d touch her pussy . . . make her come in that magical way of his. . . .

“You’re so lovely,” Lucien muttered thickly when he’d finished. He turned her so that she could see in the mirror. The dark blue sapphires shone against the pale skin of her throat, mimicking the shine of arousal in her eyes. The placket of the sheer white blouse was double-thick, making it more opaque than the rest of the garment. It mostly covered the dipping nipple chain and center sapphire weights. But the fabric over her breasts was whisper-thin and fairly tight. Her nipples looked fat, dark pink, and stiff against the blouse.

An involuntary whimper left her throat.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Lucien said, moving back her hair and brushing his lips against her hairline, making her shiver in pleasure.

He left the bathroom, and she told herself to put the finishing touches on her makeup. Instead she just stood there, staring at the image of herself wearing nothing but the necklace and nipple chain and a blouse that covered nothing, and only made her breasts appear more exposed and lewd than they would completely naked. She touched one of the vividly pink tips experimentally. A sharp pain of arousal tore through her.

This is what Lucien would do to her all night. Play with her. Tease her. Make her mad with arousal.

Her hand moved between her naked thighs, her finger agitating her slick, swollen clit. Oh, yes . . . if she hurried, perhaps she could bring herself relief before Lucien returned. Her body tightened as she raced for the finish line, her hand moving faster and faster—

The next thing she knew, her wrists were pinned behind her and her back was pressed against the length of Lucien’s body. She met his gaze in the mirror and saw that he was amused, but also vaguely annoyed.

“Little hedonist. I can’t leave you alone for a moment, can I?”

She made a frustrated sound and pulled at her wrists, but he held firm. “It’s only natural,” she defended. “You’ve got these instruments of torture attached to my breasts.”

He leaned down, his chin brushing the side of her head. “It’s not natural to all women to become so turned on by a nipple chain, lovely. That it does arouse you pleases me. But you aren’t allowed to come until I give you permission, are you?” he asked quietly near her ear in a hard voice. “You’re impulsivity does not please me. I will have to punish you for it.”

His low, rough voice made her nipples prickle against the sheer blouse.

“Finish dressing and put on your bracelets, one on each wrist. They are in the bag,” he instructed, freeing her hands. For the first time, she realized he had more of her clothing slung over his forearm. He placed a black pencil skirt and matching blazer on the stool. “Then come out into the bedroom. I will give you your punishment before we go for dinner. And if I discover you touching yourself again,” he added dryly as he began to leave the room, “I will make you regret it.”

Her ragged breathing hitched in excitement at his threat. She reached for her skirt, overly careful in her movements so as to prevent the sway of the chain and tug on her nipples. “Lucien,” she spoke to his retreating back. “There’re no panties here.”

“You won’t be needing them,” he said before he walked out the door.

“Of course not,” she muttered sarcastically under her breath as she pulled on the fitted black skirt and ever so tenderly straightened her blouse. As a slave, it was her responsibility to make things as convenient for him as possible.

The jacket helped a little, stabilizing her breasts and the wicked, swaying chain. She looked at her reflection in the mirror before she walked out of the bathroom. She’d buttoned her jacket. If it weren’t for the vivid color in her cheeks and lips, not to mention the brightness of her eyes, her look might have passed for chic conservative. The shimmering sapphires at her throat and wrists winked at her in the mirror, as if they shared a secret.