She pressed her lips together and a shiver went through her body, but she didn’t hesitate. She unbuttoned the little shells on her blouse and let the garment slip from her shoulders, folding it carefully and placing it on the end table before reaching behind her and unhooking her bra, spilling her tits out. They were firm and round with those perfect nipples, drawing his instant attention. She was tormenting him almost beyond his control.
His breath caught in his lungs and just stayed there at the erotic sight of her. “Keep stripping, baby.”
Seychelle’s hands dropped to the waistband of her jeans, and she slowly opened them and began peeling them off her hips, taking her panties with them.
His hands moved up her ribs, fingers tracing each one, finding the path to the undersides of her breasts. “Love the shape of you. I can wrap leather around your tit so nicely. One stroke. One easy curl. Do you have any idea what that would feel like? Or on your gorgeous ass? I can write my name. Lay the sun on your back.”
Seychelle reacted with goose bumps forming on her body. Her legs moved restlessly.
He swept his hand over her bare mound. “Right here, I would mark you with my initials.” His fingers traveled lower to feather over her clit and her entrance, already slick with heat and her golden liquid cream. Yeah, she wanted what he did. He took her hand and pressed it over the thick bulge stretching the material of his jeans. “Just the thought of it makes me harder than hell.”
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, her eyes on his, never looking away. “How do you do that, Savage?” Her voice was low, intrigued, already husky with need. “Make me want you so much I can barely think.”
“I can teach you to love the feel of fire. Do you want to try tomorrow? It’s early. Advanced. We can go easy, try something else. Something with just a different type of leather.” He almost couldn’t breathe waiting for her answer. He needed now. That fast, she’d seduced him into needing the whip. Made him want. Lust. Fuck, he couldn’t lie to himself. He was desperate to have his partner fully in his world, but she had to consent, she had to want it. “With the crop. Keep building you up to it.”
He bent his head and took her left tit into his mouth, pulling strong, loving the weight of it, the softness, the way she instantly cradled his head. His tongue slid over her nipple and teased and rolled with expert care. He lifted his gaze to hers and then let go. “Anything I do to you, I’m worshipping you. Not just your body, Seychelle. You. I want you to feel it. Do you?”
She nodded. “Last night when you woke me a million times, each time, each way, fast, slow, it didn’t matter, it felt like worshipping.”
He had been worshipping her. He kissed her chin. That little chin she liked to stick out at him sometimes. “I’m glad you felt it, baby. I do worship you. That’s not ever going to be a secret, not to anyone who knows me. That’s why it’s so important that you stick close to me. I’ve got enemies, Seychelle. Torpedo Ink has enemies, but I personally have them too.”
“You told me. I understand. I’m not going to go back on my word. You’ll know where I am, and if you say I need to stick close, I will.”
“You gotta learn that lesson, baby. Not just pay lip service to it. I tell you to stay put, you have to do it.”
Savage cupped her breasts, his thumbs strumming her nipples. He loved them. The color, the way they stood out. The way she shivered for him and pushed into his hand. He tugged. Rolled. Pinched and then bit down just a little harder with his fingers and thumbs, watching her eyes darken. Watching the way the breath rushed from her lungs. He let go and leaned his head down to soothe the sting with his tongue.
“If something ever happens to me, Seychelle, you stick with Torpedo Ink. You have to let them watch over you. What you’re learning. This thing we’re doing together. It won’t go away. You understand that, right?” He lapped at her right breast while he kneaded her left one, then took it into his mouth, still gently. Tenderly.
“You told me.”
He lifted his head. “Telling you isn’t you understanding.” She was right. They were going to run out of time if he didn’t get down to business and work her body up to accepting what she could handle. There was so much. So many things. Depending on how bad it was, the level he got to when the monster emerged, he needed her body to get used to mixing pain and pleasure, because when that time came, she would need the training desperately.
“You’re absolutely certain, Seychelle?” He needed for her to give her consent. She had to be a willing participant. That was what made it all the more exciting to him—that Seychelle wanted to give herself to him, to allow him to whip her when she knew it would cause her pain and yet bring her multiple orgasms. Her dilemma. How long would she hold on for him? How long would she wait before she said enough? She’d never once stopped the hard spankings with his hands. Or the leather belt. The strap. Or the clamps. But he’d been relatively gentle.