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Shadow Fire(97)

Author:Christine Feehan

Elie indicated for her to step back for a moment. He nodded approvingly. “I knew that would be perfect. Come here, bébé.”

His voice alone had sent velvet brushing over her skin. She wanted him so much, but more than that, her heart lurched dangerously. She was so afraid there was no going back. She had stepped off a cliff and was free-falling. What if he wasn’t what she hoped and dreamed? What if he was all fantasy and no reality?

“Mon petit ange, you scare yourself by thinking too much. Stay in this moment, unless you want to stop and we’ll go inside and sit together and talk about what you’re most afraid of.”

She didn’t want to stop. Her fears were not going to be put to rest so easily, not with one or two talks. She had issues and would for a long time, perhaps her entire life. Right now, she was desperate for him, thinking of him, her body on fire. She shook her head.

“I want to continue, Elie.” She had no idea how she managed to get the words out.

His fingers bit into her hip, urging her forward another step. His hand slipped between her thighs, forcing her to widen them. “More, Brielle. This is a newer piece and one I’m experimenting with. I’m not certain if I’ll like it. I drew it and had it made. It looks gorgeous, but against your skin it should look even more so.”

Elie lifted another chain from the box and hooked it between the two clamps. The chain was a little heavier than the one on the emerald clamps. It didn’t hang quite as low, not even to her belly button. He took another long chain, this one made up of small gems that looked as if they could be sapphires matching the ones hanging from her nipples. The long chain extended to her clit, where it clamped, and then dropped, just as the ones on her nipples, small to large gems, surrounded by diamonds.

Elie’s fingers slid into her slick heat and then massaged her inflamed clit. She tried to ride his hand, to press against his fingers when he flicked and thumped and added more hot blood to the little bud. The bite of the clamp sent a fire of agony and ecstasy shooting through her. Each movement of her body sent the little sapphire chain hanging down swaying, pinching the clamp tighter.

He wasn’t finished. He caught up a last, much longer piece of sapphire-decorated chain and attached it on either side to the long gem-studded one just above her mound. He stretched the chain around her hips and indicated for her to turn and place her hands on the table. Heart beating like mad, she did so. Very casually, he dipped his fingers in her slick entrance over and over and then coated between her cheeks and her forbidden star.

“Big breath, bébé.” He pushed a plug into her without further warning.

It felt a little larger than the last one, but she hadn’t expected it and he went smooth and steady, pushing until it was all the way in without stopping to give her a break. Two chains fell across her cheeks and the large chain settled around her hips, low. He indicated for her to step back again.

Now she was dressed in sapphires. It was outrageous and she hoped the gems weren’t real. The weight of them felt real. She moved away from the table a few steps, gliding the way a rider would, almost floating with her footfalls, so she wouldn’t sway too much. Each step made those chains sway so that fire streaked through her.

“Let your hair down for me, Brielle.”

He sounded like temptation. Like sin. He was up to something and she loved when he was. She loved being his focus. Loved when he played his games with her. She wished she could see herself. She lifted her arms carefully, trying not to lift her breasts, an impossible feat. Pulling the scrunchie from her hair sent wild curls cascading in every direction.

Elie lifted his phone and began to take photographs of her. He walked around her, telling her to turn her head this way and that or lift her arms or push out her bottom so he could see the harness to show her later. She obliged him, certain the pictures were only for the two of them.

When he had finished, he placed his phone on the edge of his table facing outward and brought up his playlist. Taking her hand, he switched on the music, and led her down to the lawn. Positioning her in the center, he began to move in a slow rhythmic circle around her, his body swaying to the music.

She recognized the song and knew the dance intimately. Elie was an excellent dancer. She’d learned that because she’d watched him and knew he was so good. This was a rumba, a very sexy dance and one that could be done close and intimate, or he could do several sensual movements that were demanding, including high leg lifts and sharp turns, swivels, lifts, any number of intricate dance steps that would set the chains leaping and swirling right along with her body.

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