When I'm With You: The Complete Novel (40 page)

“I know what you meant,” he said, his voice a velvet caress against her skin. He toyed with the strap of her gown, watching himself, his actions and stare highly distracting to her. “And yes, submission sexually is what I meant. What I expect.”

“All right,” she whispered, her pulse beginning to throb at her throat. What was he going to do with her, now that she’d agreed to submit and they were face-to-face? Liquid arousal surged between her thighs. She pressed them together to staunch the sudden ache. The rose fell away, unheeded.

His gaze shifted to meet her stare, but he kept playing with the strap of her gown, his fingertips flickering against her shoulder making it difficult for her to concentrate.

“Would you like your gift now?”

“What?” Elise asked, his hot eyes making her forget the velvet pouch he’d carried. She recalled sluggishly when he placed the pouch in her lap. She stared down at it dazedly.

“I had them made specifically for you.”

“You did?” she asked with restrained excitement. His long fingers moved in her lap, flipping back the flap of the pouch and sending prickles of pleasure through her. He tilted the pouch and two exquisite bracelets fell onto the silk of her gown.

“Oh, Lucien,” she whispered. The bracelets were a pair, although not identical. Candlelight made the sapphires flicker as though they contained trapped fires. The gems were interspersed with tiny, perfectly detailed platinum charms. Her eyes wide, she studied and took delight in each one in turn: a spoon in commemoration of her love of cooking; a horse in midstride that very much resembled Kesara; a tiny lock; a miniature flag with the English Union Jack on one side and the French tricolor on the other (the only painted charm), a homage to her heritage; and . . .

“Oh,” she exclaimed, grinning happily when she recognized a platinum fishing rod—a memento of that golden summer spent with Lucien so long ago. “Thank you,” she said fervently, beaming at him. She’d received some of the most expensive gifts in the world before, but never anything so intimate. So personal. “I love them. They’re so beautiful. So unique.”

“Like the wearer,” he said. She flushed with pleasure. He lifted his arm. She watched in amazement as he drew the chain and key off his neck. “Other charms may be added. You can wear them on one wrist when you go out in public. But when we’re together like this, I’d prefer you wore one on each wrist. I will use them to cuff you.”

“What?” she asked breathlessly, thinking she’d misunderstood him. Her eyes widened when he matter-of-factly lowered the straps of her gown down over her arms, causing the fabric to slide down her chest and drape at the tips of her breasts. “But . . . the bracelets are so delicate.”

“Do you value them?”

“So much,” she assured.

“Then as you learned with the pearls, you will take care not to pull at your restraints. Don’t worry,” he said, picking up one of the bracelets and releasing the clasp. He slipped it around her right wrist. “If I ever feel you are losing control, I will restrain you with something more durable. But it will please me to see you bound by restraints that pay tribute to your beauty.” He met her stare as he fastened the second bracelet around her other wrist. “It will please me to see you exhibit a little control, even in the midst of letting go.”

Elise swallowed thickly, both intimidated and aroused by his words. She
would
take care of the bracelets. They were an exquisite gift from Lucien. He would also drive her to mindless ecstasy. She knew he would. She watched as he used the key to unfasten the tiny platinum lock. He replaced the chain back around his neck, then bent his head to insert the lock through a metal loop on the opposite bracelet. The lock clicked shut. Her wrists were bound together now. Could she keep the priceless cuffs intact? she wondered anxiously. A pressure grew in her as Lucien regarded her, and she knew this delicious friction is what he’d intended all along by his gift of precious restraints.

“Put your arms above your head and lean back against the pillows,” he instructed gruffly, his hand warm on her upper arm. She raised her bound wrists over her head. He pressed closer to her, his crotch brushing her hip. At the same moment that she slid against the slick surface of the bedding, reclining on the pillows, his hand glided downward, tugging her nightgown down over the peaks of her breasts, then down over her belly and hips and off her feet. She was naked, completely exposed to the night sky and the candlelight. Her nipples stiffened, not from the cool lake breeze but from Lucien’s hot stare. He groaned softly as he looked down at her.

She bit her lip as he reached for the pearl rope. She watched him, her heart starting to thrum at her throat as he looped the creamy gems around her ankles. The pearls clicked gently together as he manipulated them, adding to the voluptuous spell he spun around her. When he ran out of rope, and there wasn’t enough slack in the silk to loop around her entire foot again, he carefully looped the pearls around the two largest toes on both her feet.

“It’s very . . . secure,” she said when he scooted up on the mattress to sit next to her again. Her ankles were bound surprisingly tight together. He smiled as he looked down at her.

“You are well and truly trussed by jewels,” he murmured, his gaze skimming over her belly and mons and lingering on her ankles. “Do not climax until I remove the pearls, do you understand?”

“Why not?” she asked, confused by the sternness of his voice.

“First, because you don’t have my permission to do so. And second, the feet flex during climax. It’s an instinctual response. You will likely break the silk if you come.”

Her eyelids narrowed on him even as her clit throbbed in arousal. “You truly are a devil, do you know that?”

“You tease me about being a devil, but you know I would never truly harm you, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” she exclaimed, her brow creasing at his sudden intensity.

He just nodded, seeming reassured. “Now . . . tell me again what you desire,” he said gruffly, his gaze fastening on her breasts and then flickering to her face.

“You. To submit to you.”

“I’m so proud of you,” he said gently. He palmed her jaw. “I know how hard it is for you, to willingly forsake control. Trust me,” he said.

“I do,” she whispered.

She felt his cock harden next to her and wondered what he was thinking as his gaze roved over her face with an expression of fierce possession. “You haunt me, night and day. Don’t ever worry that you can’t please me, Elise. If you are honest about your desires, you’ll please me every time.

He leaned closer. His addictive scent tickled her nose—a combination of his skin and his soap and his cologne. It mingled with the fresh breeze and the scent of rose petals, making her dizzy.

“I want to please you, Lucien. Tell me what to do,” she said.

His nostrils flared slightly as he looked down at her.

“You’re doing it, in spades.”

She repressed a whimper at the sound of his low, sexy voice and the blazing quality to his eyes. He caressed her, running his hands along her sides and over her hips, massaging her back muscles . . . shaping a breast to his palm. No one touched her like Lucien. She felt owned beneath his touch, cherished like she never had in her life. She also sensed his restrained hunger, his mounting excitement.

He plucked at her stiffening nipples and she moaned, twisting slightly on the luxurious bedding. She felt the pearls pulling taut and forced herself to stop. He moved, straddling her body, holding himself off her with his knees and flexing arms. She looked up at the glorious sight of him framed by the starlit night sky. How she wished she could press up against him, rub her breasts next to the hard, muscular wall of his chest, slide their bellies together, stroke his awesome erection.

“Do you have any idea what it does to me to see you restrained and helpless to resist?”

The platinum key hung from his neck. It wasn’t the only thing hanging over her. She noticed how huge his cock looked, suspended in the air between them and barely covered by the thin layer of his pants. She slicked her tongue over her lower lip in nervous excitement.

“Elise?” he prompted.

“I’m guessing you like it?” she asked, still staring at his erection.

He chuckled. “Yes, you make me stiff as stone. But that’s not what I meant entirely,” he murmured. She held her breath, watching him as his elbows bent and he lowered his head. She whimpered when he inserted a tight nipple between his lips and lashed at it with a warm, wet tongue. He drew on her and she felt that tug all the way to her womb.

“I meant that it does something to me to see you willingly give yourself,” he said a moment later, his warm breath brushing against her damp, erect nipple. She opened her eyes and made a whimpering noise of protest at the absence of his mouth on her nipple.

“I would have given myself willingly anytime you asked,” she said.

“I know,” he said, shifting his body so that he was kneeling over her. “But I wanted you to ask.” Perhaps he noticed the flash of irritation that went through her at his words, because he added pointedly, “Not beg,
ma chère
.
Ask
. There’s a difference between asking and begging. There is no desperation in asking—only courage.”

Her lips closed, her complaint forgotten. He smiled. Her womb contracted.
What a beautiful man.

He put his hands on the outer and under curves of her breasts and lifted them, plumping them in his palms. She moaned when she saw the way he stared at them so greedily.

“I have been dreaming night and day about your breasts. They’ve become the focal point of ridiculous amounts of masturbation.”

A vivid image popped into her mind’s eye of him fisting his formidable cock, his muscles flexed and rigid, stroking . . . pounding. . . .

She gasped at the powerful image. “I didn’t think you ever noticed them,” she said in a choked voice as he shaped her breasts to his hands, causing the nipples to poke between his thumb and forefinger. She’d never seen a more erotic sight in her life than the vision of her pale breasts in his dark, masculine hands.

“When I’m finished with you, you’ll have little doubt about how much I think of you. And know that everything I’m about to do to you I’ve thought about in vivid detail more times than I can count,” he growled softly before he leaned down and took her mouth in a scorching kiss. She kissed him back eagerly, her awareness eclipsed in entirety by his delicious taste and skilled, sensuous tongue, by the feeling of his hands massaging her breasts in a manner that struck her as firm . . . lascivious. He wasn’t treating her with kid gloves. He wasn’t harsh, by any means, but he was making his desire baldly evident. Had she really once thought that he was cold toward her? Ridiculous. He was rabid with lust. His control was just as strong, but tonight, he liberated it.

Sensing his naked, unmasked desire freed her own.

His mouth was hot and demanding on her neck. He took a small bite out of her shoulder muscle and she squirmed in arousal in her restraints.

“Keep still,” he soothed at the same moment that he gathered her breasts in his hands, pushing them together until the nipples were just inches apart. He ran his thumbs over both peaks, staring at her heatedly, before he scooted back farther over her thighs, leaned down, and slicked his tongue over both nipples.

“Oh!” she cried out sharply, her pelvis flexing upward, the action purely instinctual to alleviate the sharp stab of arousal that shot through her pussy. Her bottom came up several inches off the bed. Her thighs brushed against his heavy cock and balls. He continued to massage her breasts in his hands and lick and suckle her nipples. She watched, spellbound by the image of him sucking on the tip of one breast, then the other. She twisted against the delicious weight of his cock and moaned in a fever of lust, all the time distantly aware that she must be careful of her fragile bonds.

Still, she writhed in restrained bliss.

“Put your beautiful ass back on the bed or I will punish you,” she heard him say as if from a distance. The edge of his tone penetrated her arousal. She sunk back onto the bed, missing his heat and heavy, rigid cock. He continued to play with her breasts for the next several minutes, his actions deliberate . . . ruthless, driving her into a frenzy of excitement. Her nipples grew exquisitely sensitive and swollen with his relentless ministrations. By the time he inserted one deeply into his mouth and sucked hard, lightly pinching the other one, she was desperate.

“Oh, please. Please stop it, Lucien,” she moaned, grinding down her ass against the mattress. He’d been right before. She didn’t crave pain, but this sort of hurt was a heady rush. Despite her plea, he continued to suck and pluck at her nipples and squeeze her flushed breasts until she thought she’d scream. She thrashed on the mattress. “Oh, I’m going to come,” she muttered, sounding as incredulous as she felt. She didn’t know it was possible to come by having a man treat her breasts with such rough, sweet love.

“You don’t have my permission,” he said gruffly, his mouth less than an inch from an erect nipple. “You must be still. I’m preparing your breasts, making the nipples ready.”

“For
what
?” she asked in a strangled voice.

But he ignored her and continued with his task, sucking at her nipples until the cool lake wind had no effect on her fevered body. She grew mindless with excitement, twisting and moaning beneath him. She gasped in protest when he raised himself slightly, his lips damp and his expression rigid.

“You have to be the most sensitive, hot-blooded . . . irrepressible female in existence,” he muttered thickly.

“You make that sound like a bad thing.”

“It is. You are going to break your pearls,” he replied curtly, his gaze flashing to her face. His expression softened. “It’s also a blessedly good thing.”

She smiled, panting softly, watching him dazedly as he grabbed for something on the mattress. It took her a moment to recognize the velvet pouch. It had slipped out of her lap when he removed her gown. She’d felt the weight of it earlier and knew there was something else in it besides the bracelets, but had been too preoccupied with Lucien’s lovemaking to comment on it.