Good evening, Mrs. Grey," Christian says softly. He's standing by the piano, dressed in a tight black T-shirt, and jeans...those jeans- the ones he wore in the playroom. Oh my. They are over washed pale-blue denim, snug, ripped at the knee and hot. He saunters over to me, his feet bare, the top button of the jeans undone, his smoldering eyes never leaving mine. "Good to have you home. I've been waiting for you.
Who doesn't want a Bad Boy? Hmm... I prefer to let them bake for a while. Those misbehaving boys will rise to irresistible, dominant, and controlling men. When cooked at the right temperature they'll still taste disobedient but with the right amount of heat, they'll become succulent and tantalizing. The men in my recipes will never leave you feeling hungry. They will fulfill even the most insatiable appetites.
Tristan stepped away from me. “No, Robbie, listen. If there were any other way to turn off her programming, I would tell you. Lisa wants to know what she really feels, free of the programming, and I think we should help her. The pills will still keep her a bit compliant until we get her weaned off of them, but at least we can turn off her compulsion to please me sexually. Then she can really choose who she loves.
Do you need me Chantel? Do you want to see heaven?"Closing her eyes, she nodded and widened her legs. Phillipe scooted off the edge of the mattress to kneel on the floor between her spread thighs. Damn, she's soaked. Her thighs were glistening from her excitement. He reached out and ran his finger through it, bringing it to his mouth for a taste."Your aching. Aren't you, Chantel? Did having me in your mouth turn you on?
He had a ruggedness about him that was appealing. Despite his groomed presentation, his chiseled face was shadowed with an attractive scruff of hair. His beautiful smile burned into me, melting me from the inside out while it exposed perfect white teeth embellished with alluring fangs. For a moment, I allowed myself to indulge in the idea of them sinking into my neck. Would it provoke the ecstasy I imagined or the horror I feared?
-Pues...siento no besarte todas las veces que pienso hacerlo. Lamento mucho no decirte cada día todo lo que se me pasa por la cabeza al verte.Siento no poder hacer que cumplas todo lo que quieres hacer,pero aún más que te digas a ti misma que no puedes. Siento no dormir contigo cada noche ,no despertarme a tu lado cada mañana,no reírme siempre que te ríes y no ser capaz de imaginarme la vida sin ti.
Everything that I did, I thought of him. He had consumed me. He has crawled inside of me and become part of me, part of my day-to-day life. Even when he is not in my presence, he is part of everything that I do. He is in my mind. He has infected me. I paint my nails and I hope. I hope that he praises me. I hope that he smiles. I hope that when he says what he says, whatever it may be, that he ends it with those two words. Baby girl. I am ruined.
You know what I want? I just want you to be open to the fact that I am a woman. I’ve got emotions. I’ve got expectations. I cry. I laugh. And I was drawn to you because, first, you are a handsome man. But, secondly, after spending the time that we’ve spent, I just have an intuition that you’re the type of man who can appreciate a good woman. I really don’t care about your past and how many women you’ve screwed.
And there was something both frustrating and maddeningly arousing about that. His restraint made something burn low and deep in her belly, and then his mouth, oh God his mouth. He tasted like cinnamon, again, and every now and then he’d pull away, just a little — just enough to make her want to drag him back. Before giving her a teasing lick with that perfect, curling tongue of his. It set all the nerve endings in her upper lip on fire.
On many nights I have availed myself of these very gentlemen, in the adjoining room. Each time, I wondered if you might arrive and see me, as I took my pleasure, allowing their hands to explore my body. There is no part of me that has not been kissed and enjoyed. I opened myself in welcome, encouraging my suitors to bury themselves deep and hard, to obliterate all reserve and find the heart of me.”Mademoiselle Noire - The Gentlemen's Clu
I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. Once again he was close. Too close. So damn close. “At all,” she added, hearing with some alarm that her voice had softened. Everything had softened, at just his proximity. “Ever,” she whispered, and found her gaze locked on his mouth.He had a really great mouth.“I don’t want to talk, either,” that mouth said very seriously. And then he lowered his head and kissed her.
An older dom snorted. “Atherton uses the word escort loosely. The last time someone messed with a trainee, he threw the guy across the bar. Strolled over, waited for the idiot to stand up, punched his lights out, and dragged him by his jacket collar out of the place. Escorted him, my ass. Didn’t even wrinkle that fancy suit.” He took a sip of his beer and added, “Atherton is invariably polite, but nobody in their right mind fucks with his trainees.
At that moment, in the temple of her lovers’ tangled limbs, Lea felt the presence of the Divine close by, immanent and imminent — everywhere and everywhen — and it was a sublime feeling, one that made her feel infinitely powerful and infinitely small, both at the same time.A good fuck can make even an agnostic see God — a fact that explained Lea’s parents’ fascination with Tantra, something about which Lea thought as little as possible.
He stabbed into her, driving deeply, repeatedly, iron-hard and demanding. She welcomed the piercing pleasure of his urgency, opening her legs wider, pushing her skirts away and wrapping her legs about him. His thrusts pushed her roughly against the table, but she rose to meet each one, clinging to him at the hip, grinding her own need to match his. Her fingers clawed at his buttocks, gripping him to her, pushing herself against him, devouring him. The Gentlemen's Clu
Nolan,” she said. “I’m…” Scared. Say it. Tell him the truth. But her mouth remained still against his. She couldn’t tell him how badly she wanted to pull him close, because then she may not let go. She couldn’t tell him how terrified she was that she’d get lost again to another man. He cupped her face, silently coaxing her to finish her sentence. “You’re what, love?”Her eyes met his. “I’m broken.
