Page 68
Story: Million Dollar High
Struck dumb by the stunning piece, she could only nod.
Done in grey and red daguerreotype, the image of her welt-covered ass and thighs was sharply contrasted with the red garter belt in a breathtaking tableau. The strategically placed spotlights Noah had used to frame the picture created shadows and light that made the painting come alive.
It was unspeakably breathtaking. And the fact that he’d kept it private for his sole enjoyment made her heart swell. He moved against her, turning her head so he could read her expression.
Whatever he saw there made his mouth curve in a satisfied smile. She lifted her hand to caress his hair and he shifted even closer. Close enough for her to feel the iron-hard effect of his little exhibit. Moaning, she cupped his rigid length, sighing in delight when he thrust against her palm.
He slipped a hand between her legs and gave a loud groan when he encountered her wetness. “I knew we should’ve done this after dinner. Now my cock craves your tight little cunt more than my stomach wants food.”
“I’m… I’m not that hungry either,” she murmured.
When his fist tightened in her hair, her heart leapt. But he put a hand over hers on his crotch and lifted it. Kissing her palm, he moved away. “White wine sauce doesn’t keep. Besides, I want to see my other present.” He lunged out of bed and held out both hands to her. She let him help her up and gasped whenhe tugged her close. “But we come back here straight after dinner, and I get to fuck you long and hard with that picture for added stimulus.”
She tilted her head. “Oh, are you getting to the stage where you need help keeping it up, King?” she teased.
A hard slap on her ass brought sweet, sweet pain and added wetness between her legs.
“Just for that, I’ll make you sob for mercy.”
“You mean you haven’t noticed that I pretty much cry every time we have sex?”
His smile was steeped in wickedness. “Baby, tonight I want nothing short of ugly, clawing, head-banging tears. And no one will hear your excited screams when I whip your pretty little pussy because you’ll have a ball-gag in your mouth. Now, let’s go open my present.”
Noah bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing at Leia’s agitation. He’d deliberately drawn out dinner, fed her some more when she said she was full and made the most intricate dessert just to keep her on the edge. Scooping up another spoonful of freshly made chocolate mousse topped with lightly roasted shaved truffles and orange rinds, he held it to her lips.
Obediently, she closed her mouth over the decadent morsel. She looked at his untouched portion. “Aren’t you going to eat yours?”
“You can feed me after I’ve fed you.”
Eyes wide, she nodded. She ate another couple of mouthfuls, then cleared her throat. Again, he swallowed a smile.
“Noah… about the… umm… ball-gag?—”
“Shhh, we don’t talk about the ball-gag during dinner.”
She lifted a trembling hand to the newly shaved space above her ear.
His stomach muscles quivered as he flashed back to this morning. He’d asked her last week whether she would keep or shave the patch of hair. She’d wanted to wait until her wrist fully healed to decide.
He’d forgotten about it until he walked into the bathroom this morning and seen her holding out his electric shaver to him.
Get over it, Noah. It was such a simple thing. And yet, every time he saw that newly shaved patch, something unfurled in his chest.
He captured her hand, kissed it and fed her another mouthful. With each bite, her spine grew stiffer and her breath puffed out.
God, was he a masochist to love her like this, all riled up and anticipating what he planned to do to her? Hell yeah. The hard-on he’d been unable to talk down since he’d shown her the painting throbbed harder.
Ten minutes later, he decided he would be better off not doing himself a permanent injury. He quickly fed her the last spoonful, tried to ignore the sexy little whimpers she’d been making for the last five minutes, and handed her his spoon.
Her hand trembled so badly he helped steady her first offered mouthful. He kept his eyes on her as the loaded spoon slid inside his mouth. Noah couldn’t breathe at the open hunger and utter surrender in her eyes.
He wanted to believe, right here and now, that she would do anything he wanted… Be anything he desired. And there was their problem. Outside of sex, he still wasn’t sure he could trust her to accept him and everything in his life.
Hell, he was chicken enough that he’d avoided the subjectsthat really mattered, subjects that would rear their ugly heads sooner rather than later and smash the intimacy happening right here to fucking smithereens.
She gave a distressed whimper, and he realized he’d squeezed her hand too tight. Slowly releasing her, he let her finish feeding him. By the time the spoon clattered to the countertop, her face was flushed and her thighs clenched and unclenched in uncontrollable spasms.
Reaching down to where she’d placed it earlier, he picked up the large wrapped package and propped it on his knees. “So what do we have here?”
Done in grey and red daguerreotype, the image of her welt-covered ass and thighs was sharply contrasted with the red garter belt in a breathtaking tableau. The strategically placed spotlights Noah had used to frame the picture created shadows and light that made the painting come alive.
It was unspeakably breathtaking. And the fact that he’d kept it private for his sole enjoyment made her heart swell. He moved against her, turning her head so he could read her expression.
Whatever he saw there made his mouth curve in a satisfied smile. She lifted her hand to caress his hair and he shifted even closer. Close enough for her to feel the iron-hard effect of his little exhibit. Moaning, she cupped his rigid length, sighing in delight when he thrust against her palm.
He slipped a hand between her legs and gave a loud groan when he encountered her wetness. “I knew we should’ve done this after dinner. Now my cock craves your tight little cunt more than my stomach wants food.”
“I’m… I’m not that hungry either,” she murmured.
When his fist tightened in her hair, her heart leapt. But he put a hand over hers on his crotch and lifted it. Kissing her palm, he moved away. “White wine sauce doesn’t keep. Besides, I want to see my other present.” He lunged out of bed and held out both hands to her. She let him help her up and gasped whenhe tugged her close. “But we come back here straight after dinner, and I get to fuck you long and hard with that picture for added stimulus.”
She tilted her head. “Oh, are you getting to the stage where you need help keeping it up, King?” she teased.
A hard slap on her ass brought sweet, sweet pain and added wetness between her legs.
“Just for that, I’ll make you sob for mercy.”
“You mean you haven’t noticed that I pretty much cry every time we have sex?”
His smile was steeped in wickedness. “Baby, tonight I want nothing short of ugly, clawing, head-banging tears. And no one will hear your excited screams when I whip your pretty little pussy because you’ll have a ball-gag in your mouth. Now, let’s go open my present.”
Noah bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing at Leia’s agitation. He’d deliberately drawn out dinner, fed her some more when she said she was full and made the most intricate dessert just to keep her on the edge. Scooping up another spoonful of freshly made chocolate mousse topped with lightly roasted shaved truffles and orange rinds, he held it to her lips.
Obediently, she closed her mouth over the decadent morsel. She looked at his untouched portion. “Aren’t you going to eat yours?”
“You can feed me after I’ve fed you.”
Eyes wide, she nodded. She ate another couple of mouthfuls, then cleared her throat. Again, he swallowed a smile.
“Noah… about the… umm… ball-gag?—”
“Shhh, we don’t talk about the ball-gag during dinner.”
She lifted a trembling hand to the newly shaved space above her ear.
His stomach muscles quivered as he flashed back to this morning. He’d asked her last week whether she would keep or shave the patch of hair. She’d wanted to wait until her wrist fully healed to decide.
He’d forgotten about it until he walked into the bathroom this morning and seen her holding out his electric shaver to him.
Get over it, Noah. It was such a simple thing. And yet, every time he saw that newly shaved patch, something unfurled in his chest.
He captured her hand, kissed it and fed her another mouthful. With each bite, her spine grew stiffer and her breath puffed out.
God, was he a masochist to love her like this, all riled up and anticipating what he planned to do to her? Hell yeah. The hard-on he’d been unable to talk down since he’d shown her the painting throbbed harder.
Ten minutes later, he decided he would be better off not doing himself a permanent injury. He quickly fed her the last spoonful, tried to ignore the sexy little whimpers she’d been making for the last five minutes, and handed her his spoon.
Her hand trembled so badly he helped steady her first offered mouthful. He kept his eyes on her as the loaded spoon slid inside his mouth. Noah couldn’t breathe at the open hunger and utter surrender in her eyes.
He wanted to believe, right here and now, that she would do anything he wanted… Be anything he desired. And there was their problem. Outside of sex, he still wasn’t sure he could trust her to accept him and everything in his life.
Hell, he was chicken enough that he’d avoided the subjectsthat really mattered, subjects that would rear their ugly heads sooner rather than later and smash the intimacy happening right here to fucking smithereens.
She gave a distressed whimper, and he realized he’d squeezed her hand too tight. Slowly releasing her, he let her finish feeding him. By the time the spoon clattered to the countertop, her face was flushed and her thighs clenched and unclenched in uncontrollable spasms.
Reaching down to where she’d placed it earlier, he picked up the large wrapped package and propped it on his knees. “So what do we have here?”
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