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.”“I’ve got to use the bathroom,” I say, scrambling to get out of bed.Beckett grabs me by the ankle and pulls me back as I laugh.Rolling me onto my back he braces himself over me, caging me so that I’m trapped inside his arms.“Was it nice to lie to me?” he asks dangerously.“No,” I say in a small voice.“What am I going to do to you for lying to me and provoking me?”“Spank me?” I ask, breathless.“Maybe,” he says, leaning over me to nip my bottom lip.“Unless you want to try to make amends and talk me out of it,” he says suggestively.I wriggle down until I’m level with his cock, which is hard and erect.“I can be pretty persuasive,” I say with a smile, taking him into my mouth.We spend the morning in bed and the afternoon by the pool.As I lounge in a poolside chaise surrounded by the hotel’s beautiful gardens, my skin warmed by the sun and Beckett’s skillful hands smoothing suntan lotion over me, I can’t recall ever being this happy.Turning to Beckett, I say, “Thank you for this weekend.I will never forget it.”He rests his hand possessively on my bared thigh.“Me neither, Angel.”Eventually, we make our way upstairs to shower and dress for dinner.Wearing only my bra and panties, I’m about to slip on the black dress I brought when Beckett, who is kicked back in one of the armchairs watching me get ready, stops me in my tracks with his seductive and unexpected command.“Come here, Emmaline.”With a nervous flutter of anticipation tinged with lust, I cross the room to stand in front of him.“I have something for you,” he says, reaching into the pocket of his tailored trousers and pulling out a blue velvet pouch.He empties the contents of the pouch into his palm and I recognize the silver nipple rings I had admired at the store, the ones with the tiny bells.Oh.I can feel my nipples tightening already.“I want you to wear these tonight.” he says huskily.Unhooking my bra, he takes my left nipple between his thumb and forefinger and rolls it mercilessly until it’s hard and elongated.“Beautiful,” he murmurs.He slips the loop over the taut peak and tugs it tight, making me gasp.He repeats the process with my other nipple, gently rolling and tugging until it’s a hardened point before tightening the loop around it.I glance down at my breasts.My nipples look huge, dark red, and held erect by the tight loops.“Why do you do this to me?” I say with a groan, the pleasure sizzling though me.“Because it turns me on,” he says huskily.“And it turns you on too.” He flicks the bells attached to the nipple ring, causing them to jingle melodically.“Slave bells,” he adds.“To remind you that you belong to me.” He tugs on the bells, making me whimper as the sensation sears from my nipples straight to my womb.“Are you mine?” he demands, fisting his hands in my hair as he kisses me savagely.“Yes!” I gasp as I kiss him back, my mouth desperate for his.“I’m yours.”“Your orgasms belong to me,” he says throatily.“For my pleasure, when I say.Do you understand?”I don’t really, because whether I orgasm or not has always been up to him, but I nod anyway.“Good,” he says softly, releasing me.“Get ready for dinner.We have reservations in fifteen minutes.”He takes me to dinner at Le Cirque at the Bellagio, where we drink champagne and enjoy a five course meal with a fabulous view of the famous fountains.The waiter has just brought us our entrée when Beckett leans over to me and says, “Take off your panties.”I look at him questioningly and he gives me a hard stare back.He has clearly morphed into Dom mode.I set my napkin on the table and stand to go to the restroom, but he stops me, pulling me back down into my chair.“Not in the restroom.Here.”My mouth goes dry as I realize he’s serious.I’m getting wet just thinking about it.Trying to be discreet, I reach under the table and carefully wriggle out of the black lace bikini panties I’m wearing, bending slightly to retrieve them from the floor.He holds out his hand.“Give them to me.”My face burning, I hand them across the table to him, hoping no one is watching us.He holds them to his face and inhales deeply, and I feel my pussy clench at the gesture, even as I flush with embarrassment.This is so wrong, but so hot.Smiling slightly, he tucks them into his pocket and takes a bite of salmon.“Eat,” he says, gesturing at my plate with his fork.Somehow, I manage to eat but I don’t taste a thing.He pays the check and we leave the restaurant, his hand resting possessively on my bottom which feels conspicuously bare beneath my dress [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]