The Ultimate Romantic Suspense Set (8 romantic suspense novels from 8 bestselling authors for 99c)

by Lee Taylor

  He chuckled. "Don't worry. I'm just looking, Puss-puss. I'm more interested in this." He touched a fingertip to her clit, patting gently, over and over like he was sending a Morse Code message. She squirmed. She had to come.

  "Lower your hands and put them under your breasts."

  She complied instantly, glad of something to take her mind off the demanding pull between her legs.

  "Good girl. Now arch your back and ease up off the bed a little with your elbows, then flick your fingernails over your nipples, matching the rhythm of my finger on your nub. I'll be kind and let you come, because I know you're ready."

  His words alone caused the euphoria to begin, and by the time she'd flicked her nipples twice, she was in freefall, babbling her thanks, urging him to enter her, trying desperately to squeeze her legs together when he plunged three fingers into her.

  Suddenly the fingers were gone, to be quickly replaced by his rock hard penis. The delicious friction on the pulsating muscles of her passage lifted her orgasm to dizzying heights where she wanted to soar forever. She'd never felt so connected to another person, so alive, so absolutely fucking wonderful.

  "Fuck-ing-won-der-ful, s-sir," she stuttered in tandem with his rhythm, drooling into the blue bedspread.

  He gripped her hips, thrusting and thrusting, his breathing ragged. His body went rigid and he signalled his release with a primeval growl of elation that vibrated into her toes and from there to the top of her head.

  Jessie!

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Lulled by the soothing sound of water spilling over the waterfall feature of the pond in Michael's back garden, Jessie sank back in the cushions of the comfortable outdoor chair on the deck. She gazed up at the huge leaves of the fig tree that gave it shade, limp with contentment. Michael had put her through a few elementary exercises on the home gym, then she'd lain nude atop her naked lover for an hour in complete silence. While they were showering together she'd confided how excited she was by the prospect of getting back into shape.

  They'd washed and dried each other's bodies. Michael had insisted she not call him Sir. "I want to hear my name on your lips when we're sharing like this. It's different from the games we play when I'm Sir and you're Puss-puss. It's intimate, but not sexual. I'm not sure if I'm explaining myself."

  "I understand," she'd murmured, her heart doing somersaults at the desperate sincerity in his eyes. "I think so. It's as you said. We'll learn together. I want to call you Michael when I'm washing your hair, or your body."

  His voice brought her back from her daydream. "A bit more?"

  She nodded lazily. He topped up her glass of white wine. "Now, about your lease at Camden Manor."

  Jessie wasn't sure why a shiver of unease prickled her nape. He seemed so anxious to get her out of her apartment and into his house. "It's for a year."

  "I don't think there'll be a problem. They'll be able to rent it easily enough. It's a prime location."

  Jessie glanced back at the house. "You have a lovely home, Michael, but you've no furniture to speak of, and what you do have is--"

  "Shit, I know," he rasped. "Linda took all the good stuff. Look at it this way," he crooned, "you can spend all that filthy lucre you're making from your book on setting this place up again."

  "Right," she teased back, "I thought you were moving to Panama."

  The grin left his face. "Gary and I have invested a chunk of change in a condo project near the hotel, but I can't see myself living there year round. Just for a few months maybe."

  Jessie laughed. "It's a great place to write. I accomplished a lot there."

  Michael wiggled his brows. "Do I get to read it?"

  "Not yet."

  He rubbed his thumb over her cheek. "I need you here, Jessie. I want you in my life. We're good together."

  It would be easy to acquiesce to his demands. He'd already taken control of her soul. "I'll look into breaking the lease tomorrow when I get back. But I can't move while I'm under the deadline for my second book."

  He gritted his teeth as if there was something else he wanted to say, but then seemed to think better of it. "Good enough."

  ~~~

  Michael traced a finger along the delicate edges of the butterfly's wings. He forced himself to stop before touching the long body of the plastic insect, nervous that he might become more aroused than he already was. This was the part that would go inside Jessie, when she accepted his gift.

  He was glad he'd taken his time bringing out the goodies he'd bought from Scallywags. Each one was a new adventure. He'd added the butterfly on a whim, but now he thought it might be the best purchase of all--apart from the collar.

  He balanced the discrete remote control in his other hand, took a deep breath, and pressed the ON button. His throat went dry as desire coiled at the base of his spine. He risked touching a finger to the penis-like tip of the vibrating body. Liquid heat boiled in his balls. He toyed with the idea of touching the other protruding bit of the device, the part that would fit nicely into Jessie's rosette.

  They'd never talked about anal penetration. It wasn't something that appealed to him, but he'd read that a vibrator in the bum enhanced a woman's pleasure. That was his goal in life, admittedly for selfish reasons. The greater Jessie's pleasure--

  Shit! This woman was turning him into a quivering mass of sexual arousal.

  He grinned.

  Nothing wrong with that!

  He pressed the OFF button and dropped the butterfly into its silky drawstring bag. He was about to put the remote in the bag too, but changed his mind. He was the Dom after all.

  He looked at his watch. Six o-clock. Jessie was expecting him at seven.

  What the hell. He'd be early for once in his life.

  ~~~

  Jessie had never been a good cook, but she'd labored over tonight's meal. To her dismay, Michael wolfed down the Mediterranean chicken casserole so quickly, she doubted he'd even tasted it.

  "Delicious," he declared, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

  Tamping down her irritation, she picked up the plates, dumped them in the kitchen sink, got the trifle from the fridge, and made a big show of putting it in the centre of the dining table. "Dessert?"

  He leaned forward, his blue eyes alight with lust. "I had something else in mind for dessert."

  Her heart fell. "But it's a traditional English trifle. It took me all day to make it."

  His eyes darkened. "We'll enjoy it later with a cup of your great coffee. I'm too full now. Go to the bedroom, Puss-puss, and take off your clothes. I have a surprise for you."

  Jessie had never found suggestive male behavior arousing, but every nerve ending in her body responded to Michael's words. She was horny before she even knew what the surprise was.

  "Yes, Sir," she murmured, heading for the bedroom.

  "I expect to find you naked and lying spread-eagled on the bed."

  "Yes, Sir."

  She undressed quickly and lay down as he'd instructed, arms and legs spread. He'd be pleased she was already wet.

  She was disappointed and confused when he came into the bedroom, still fully clothed, carrying his leather jacket. He fished something out of his jacket pocket, handed it to her, and threw the jacket on the floor.

  Phew! For a moment she'd feared he was going to leave her stretched out like this with a warning she wasn't to come until he returned. The mere thought of it had her squirming.

  He sat on the edge of the bed. "Open it."

  She opened the drawstring, reached in and pulled out a pink plastic butterfly. It had strings attached to each wingtip. She dangled the insect in front of him. "It's beautiful, Sir."

  She narrowed her eyes. "What is it, Sir?"

  She'd known the moment she saw it what it was, but what harm in teasing him!

  He shifted his weight, reaching to touch the tip of the part she knew he planned to insert inside her. "It's a butterfly, Puss-puss. You can wear it when I'm not around, just to remind you of me. This pa
rt goes inside you."

  She smiled, tracing her finger along the ridged plastic. "It's a pale imitation of the real thing, Sir."

  His face reddened. "Thank you, Puss-puss. I'll take that as a compliment."

  She touched the other part of the device. "What's this part for, Sir?"

  He inhaled deeply, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

  She chuckled, enjoying the power she had to arouse him.

  He took the butterfly from her and sucked the butt plug into his mouth, drawing it out slowly. He brushed a thumb over her nipple. "My, my, Puss-puss, like a little pebble."

  Her breasts tingled. She clenched the aching muscles between her legs.

  "Up on your knees, close to the end of the bed, bottom in the air."

  She obeyed.

  "You're already wet, Puss-puss, so we'll have no trouble easing this into your lovely slit, but the other might be a bit more difficult. Just relax."

  Relax? Was he kidding? "Yes, Sir."

  "I'm new at this, Puss-puss. I'll try not to hurt you."

  Not reassuring.

  "I trust you not to hurt me, Sir,"

  "Reach behind and pull open your rosette, Puss-puss. I'll ease the butt plug in first."

  Had she ever been in a more exposed position? PAP tests seemed like a walk in the park compared to this. She pulled her butt cheeks apart.

  "Shit, I'm sweating" Michael rasped, swiping his arm across his forehead.

  She took a deep breath as he eased the end of the butt plug into her anus. She couldn't help it. Her muscles seized.

  "Relax, Puss-puss. You're pushing it out."

  Relax, relax, relax. Think relaxing thoughts. La da da da dee da, my heart will go on...

  As the butt plug slowly slid inside, the plastic penis pressed against her clitoris. Suddenly her body sucked in both plugs. The sensation of being filled was overwhelming.

  Michael let out a long, slow breath. "That's my girl, Puss-puss. You're fucking wonderful."

  He fastened the strings at the small of her back.

  "Okay. Stand up now, Puss-puss."

  He helped her up from the bed. Her knees had turned to jelly.

  "You look so fucking sexy. Now, strut for me, slowly."

  She felt like an under-dressed Vegas show girl with only the butterfly covering the small triangle of pubic hair Michael had decided he preferred. But it was erotic to strut for him, aroused beyond belief by the jolts of pleasure that zinged through her body as she swayed her hips and stuck out her breasts.

  She glanced at Michael. He stood almost to attention, his body rigid, an iron rod in his pants. Was he drooling? Elation swept over her that she could arouse a beautiful man like him.

  "Enough, Puss-puss. Lie down now. I'm going to tie you up."

  She kept several silk scarves on the night table in readiness. They'd proven effective before. He tied her wrists loosely to the old fashioned railing style headboard--the main reason they preferred her bed.

  If he didn't hurry she was going to come with just the butterfly. "Please, Sir."

  "Patience, Puss-puss. I'm not going to tie your ankles, but you are not to close your legs, no matter what, and you're not to come until I give permission."

  No matter what?

  He tied a scarf over her eyes, and brushed a kiss on her lips.

  He moved away from the bed. What was he doing? She heard what sounded like the soft leather of his jacket. Maybe he was going to leave her like this. She'd kill him.

  "Ready?" he whispered.

  ~~~

  Jessie's body rose a foot off the bed, as if he'd zapped her with a defibrillator. For one heart-stopping second he thought he'd killed her, but then she squirmed as the vibrations travelled through her body. She was ready to come. More than ready if the gasps and moans were any indication. But she'd kept her long legs open, a supreme effort that showed on her face and in the rigidity of her trembling thigh muscles.

  He glanced at the remote in his hand. Should he turn up the strength of the vibrations? Too soon. Next time.

  "Sir," she rasped.

  He counted backwards in his mind from ten, pressing his hand to his arousal with each number. By the time he reached zero, he was sweating, his cock ready to explode. This Dom shit was hard. "You can come now, Puss-puss."

  Jessie's long, long wail of fulfillment travelled from his toes, up his spine and into his balls. He thirsted to rip off the stupid butterfly and plunge into her hot sheath.

  When he sensed she was beginning to relax, he slid his thumb to the OFF button. Was it the tremor in his hand, the sweat, or some perverse whim that caused his thumb to slip? He accidentally turned up the strength of the vibrations, and Jessie's body went rigid again. She screamed, falling once more into the abyss.

  Yes, the butterfly had been a good idea.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Michael and Jessie went to The Bay to shop for underwear. She'd picked up packages of generic briefs for both husbands, but had never bought undies with a man before.

  Visions of Michael in a skimpy thong filled her brain.

  First, they headed for the shelves with the shirts. "I've developed a fetish for buying shirts," he admitted. "I've bought over a hundred since Linda left."

  "I noticed your closet was rather full," she teased. He was deliberately delaying the underwear buying, knowing she was excited about it.

  He quickly picked out a shirt in the right size, then headed for the tie racks. "My problem is I have no trouble choosing a shirt, but I can never find the right tie."

  Jessie worked her way through the ties, pulling out one or two she thought might be suitable. She lay them one at a time on the front of the shirt he'd picked out, knowing which one she would select if it was up to her.

  "Which would you choose?" he asked, scratching his head.

  She pointed.

  He grinned, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Perfect! Now for the undies."

  He handed the shirt and tie over to a clerk. "Can you hang on to these? My lover and I are headed over to the men's underwear department."

  Ignoring the woman's rapid blinking, he made a beeline for the Calvin Klein display.

  "Black?' he asked, holding a bikini thong in front of his crotch.

  Heat shot through her. "Nice," she murmured.

  "What size do you think I am, Puss-puss?"

  Her tongue seemed to be glued to the roof of her mouth. "Large, I'd guess, Sir."

  He smirked, hunting through the bin. "Only large, eh? Not XL? Okay. I'll try them on, to be sure."

  She trailed after him to the dressing room, her face on fire. The female clerk took one look at him, then spied the underwear. She smiled seductively, but her smile turned to a glare when she realized he wasn't alone.

  Jessie glared back.

  You wanna fight me for him? Huh? Huh?

  "I'll wait here," she declared.

  The clerk led the way into the change rooms, reminding him, as she glanced at his groin, to keep his own underwear on when he tried the Calvin Klein.

  Jessie made a show of being interested in the racks near the dressing rooms, but the breath wooshed from her lungs when she looked up three minutes later to see Michael standing in the doorway wearing only the Calvin Klein and a seductive smile, his hands out at his sides, as if to say, "What do you think?"

  The clerk bustled over, looking irritated, but he held up his hand, stopping her in her tracks. "I'm buying them anyway. Just want my lover to see them."

  The well designed underwear hugged the bulge at his crotch beautifully. The bikini style revealed a tantalizing glimpse of pubic hair. Jessie couldn't take her eyes off him. Neither could a handful of women who happened to be walking by.

  He turned. "How about from the back? Look okay?"

  She thought she might faint. Her heart was pounding, pounding. "Very nice," she croaked. "Are they comfortable?"

  Hell's bells! Now she was talking like his mother.

  He winked at her over
his shoulder, a big grin on his face. "Very."

  "Let's get a dozen."

  ~~~

  Michael left the Calvin Klein underwear with the clerk and they headed for the Lingerie Department. Jessie stole a glance at the displays of the style of panties she usually wore. He quickly pulled her away to a rack with thongs.

  Several female shoppers stopped to gawk as he held one thong after another in front of his own crotch. "How about this one? I like black."

  "Or, hot pink. Wow!"

  "Now, this I like. Or maybe this."

  She glanced at the other women, obviously embarrassed.

  He leaned close to her ear. "They're jealous, Jessie. Notice they're alone. Ignore them. There's only me and you here."

  He draped an arm across her shoulders. "I've never helped my lover buy panties before," he announced loudly enough for the busybodies to hear. They looked away quickly.

  He picked out another thong, but held this one in front of her. "This is it. Go try it on."

  He could tell from the way her eyes darkened that it had finally dawned on her why he'd made such an exhibition of himself in the Men's Department.

  She held up the black thong, eyeing the low-cut lace trimmed front and thin straps. "Looks fine. I'm sure this is the right size."

  He turned her to face the Dressing Room and patted her bum. "Go try it on, Puss-puss. And don't keep your underwear on underneath. It'll be worth paying for it even if you don't like them."

  "Yes, Sir," she rasped.

  ~~~

  Jessie stared at the mirror, astonished at how sexy she looked in the skimpy underwear. She turned, suddenly reminded of the bottomless pants she'd worn at Scallywags. Preening in front of a mirror in a thong was one thing. How was she going to walk without it rubbing on her pussy?

  And Michael was waiting for her appearance at the door.

  She couldn't do it. There was bound to be someone she knew in the store, probably a former pupil.

  Then she thought of the flash of delight that would gleam in Michael's eyes when he saw her. He expected her to obey.

  She tied the bottom of her T-shirt in a knot, fingered her collar, then opened the door slowly. So far, so good--no one in the hallway. She strained to listen for voices near the entry to the changing rooms. Seemed quiet.