For now, she’d be content to dig her toes into the thick, soft carpet, perch on the edge of one of the leather seats and hope her clit didn’t melt.
Alan secured the door with automatic locks, then moved around to Celia. Without comment, he took off her cape, leaving her naked except for the gag and handcuffs. When he took the handcuffs off, too, she felt almost disappointed—yet relieved at the same time. Would he fuck her now?
Please let that answer be yes.
Instead, he massaged her wrists, her arms, all the while gazing at her in that all-consuming, possessive way. In the soft light of the interior, she could see the diamond shine of his blue eyes. He was studying her, from her still-damp hair, down to her jutting, aching nipples and lower, to her soft red curls.
“Beautiful,” he whispered. One of his hands strayed to the smattering of freckles on her chest. He trailed his fingers from one shoulder to the other, following the pattern.
“You remind me of an exotic djinni, some sort of magical royalty.” He stroked the freckles again, shoulder to shoulder, then back to her chest. “These marks are proof of your birthright. A sign of your power over foolish mortals like me. Only I’ve turned the tables on you. I’ve captured the djinni. And I may never let you escape.”
His massage moved to her breasts.
Celia groaned as he palmed the pale globes and squeezed.
“Your nipples are the same color as your freckles. When I suck them, they get dark, like the best red wine. Would you like me to suck your nipples, my djinni?”
The gag came in handy as she moaned her assent, then growled when he didn’t do it.
“In time,” he promised. “You need to learn patience.”
I’ll patience you when I get the chance. Her hands clenched into fists. She wanted to shove her fingers between her legs so badly she couldn’t stand it. She needed some respite from the pounding desire, the hot ache of the oil.
Alan seemed impervious to her growing need and her homicidal thoughts. He calmly pointed to the carpeted floor. “Lie down in the center and spread your arms and legs.”
The gag muffled her pointed response.
Damn him.
No wonder he made her wear it.
“You’re hesitating,” he commented softly, with the slightest edge to his voice. When she looked at his face, she saw that his expression had hardened. “Is that true?”
She nodded vigorously, wishing she could call him a bastard more clearly.
Alan sighed. “That’s a punishment. If I were you, I wouldn’t earn another.”
Punishment? Okay, if being naked in a limo with a dick gag in my mouth isn’t punishment, what is?
Alan eased off his seat, rapped the glass separating the back of the limo from the driver, and came to rest cross-legged on the big car’s carpeted floor. The engine turned over. When the car moved, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her off the seat, straight into his lap.
Startled, she cried out as he turned her over and positioned her with her ass across his lap. Celia thought about fighting him, then thought about the handcuffs.
“Be still,” he ordered. “Stretch your arms over your head.”
She stopped wriggling and did as he commanded. Her fingers rested on the soft carpet. Her breasts hung beside Alan’s leather-clad leg, her heat-tortured nipples dangling into the carpet’s soft pile. The gentle vibration of the car’s movement doubled the erotic sensations.
“When I tell you to do something, I expect you to obey immediately.”
Alan spanked her ass so suddenly and so hard that Celia yelped against the gag. Damn, that stung! She imagined her cheek lighting up with the five fingers of his handprint—and he spanked her again!
She bucked in his lap, biting the gag as her nipples crushed harder into the carpet.
The sting from the first slap seemed to be fading, or more accurately, moving—down inside her, heating her even more than the oil he had applied, increasing the ache in her pussy. Alan spanked her again…and again, each time pausing to let the burn mingle with her growing pleasure.
Another slap to the ass, and another.
Tears leaked out of Celia’s eyes, but not from the pain. From the need swelling inside her, from the raw want he was making her feel.
Alan paused.
Celia ground her teeth on the gag. She wanted him to keep it up. A few more hard smacks and she would come. She just knew it.
He’d punish me for that, too. Let’s see. Do I care?
He cupped her stinging ass, squeezing, murmuring about her shape, the firmness. “You’re a pleasure to touch, sweet djinni. A pleasure to spank. Your ass turns a wonderful shade of pink.”
Damn you. Couldn’t you do it for two more minutes?
She sucked in a breath as his fingers moved down to tease the swollen lips of her pussy. He slipped inside the wetness, straight into her waiting core.
Yes, yes! Please!
Her muscles clenched around his thrust. Ripples of pleasure spread upward, raising chills over every inch of her skin. A ragged moan broke around the penis-gag. Celia moved her hips, trying to take him deeper, but he only laughed quietly and withdrew, leaving her empty and hornier than ever.
“I thought I told you to be still.” He clucked, resting his hand on her ass. “It’s obvious you need another lesson in obedience—and, as I expected, patience.”
Careful to keep her curses sounding like moans, Celia expressed her opinion about that comment.
“Now, I want you on your back in the center of the floor with your legs and arms spread. This time, don’t hesitate.”
Moan-swearing to beat the band, Celia complied.
She crawled out of Alan’s lap, letting her nipples rake across his leather pants and his massive erection. His surprised grunt made her grin, as did his masculine purr when she arranged herself spread-eagle on the limo floor.
When he shifted to a kneeling position beside her, Celia was gratified to see the appreciation on his face—and the undisguised arousal.
“Incredible,” he whispered, touching her with both hands, massaging her breasts, moving outward toward her arms, her wrists. He gave one of her wrists a gentle tug onto a rougher spot on the carpet—and locked it to the floor with some sort of rubbery cuff!
Her eyes widened as he cuffed the other wrist, then both of her ankles.
Then, oh-so casually, he reached up and hit a switch on the limousine’s wall.
As Celia watched, disbelieving, the ceiling panels of the limo’s roof parted, leaving only a long sheet of clear glass between her and the night sky.
“That’s better,” Alan murmured, returning to his maddeningly gentle stroking of her breasts, approaching the nipples and backing off as she stared upward. “I like the stars, don’t you?”
Celia wondered desperately where they were driving, dying to know what, if anything could be seen from taller buildings—hell, even cars with higher seats!
Alan pinched her nipples firmly, making her bite the gag, dragging her attention straight back to him.
“I could do this all night if I want,” he commented in that offhanded fashion. “What would you think if I pinched your nipples for a few hours, my sweet djinni?”
Always accommodating, Celia’s pussy answered his question with a fierce, wet ache.
Alan tweaked the buds without stopping, gentle touches alternating with sharp, until Celia’s brain expanded along with her clit. Her entire focus became the crazy-making sensations. Pain, but not pain. Pleasure, but not pleasure. She found herself forcing her muscles upward, trying to push into him, trying to tempt him to use his mouth, or better yet, touch her pussy. Just a little bit. Just for a second.
But she could hardly move at all. She was helpless. Unable to scream. Locked to the floor of a moving car, exposed—and at the mercy of a maddeningly handsome kidnapper.
I’ll take you places you never thought you’d go…
She had said yes even after his warning, hadn’t she?
&
nbsp; Abruptly, he released her nipples.
Wanting to roar with frustration, Celia turned her head to track his movements as best she could. Naturally, and likely by his design, she couldn’t see much.
Music switched on, soft and low, with a steady beat.
He opened one of the cases and moved a few things around. Then he adjusted the lighting in the back of the limo.
The glass above her became more and more a mirror instead of a window. At first she saw an outline of herself, a ghostly image that formed more and more, finally so clear she could discern each curve, hair and freckle.
And she could discern Alan moving a wooden case off the seat, near to where she lay so stretched and vulnerable.
“I thought you might wonder why I gagged you,” he said as he opened the case and took out a metal cylinder. “Sorry I waited to explain. I needed to make sure your skin was dry enough to use this first.”
A cord ran from the bottom of the cylinder. Alan attached the cord to a port in the limo’s side wall.
An electrical outlet? Oh, god.
She bit the gag. Tried to make her throat work to be sure she could squeak loud enough if necessary. Her fingers and toes flexed.
“I chose that gag to give you something to bite and to keep you quiet.” He smiled, looking more dangerous than ever in the limo’s low light. “Wouldn’t want the driver or people on the street to think I’m killing you.”
OhGodohGodwhatisthatthing?!?!
He worked carefully, deftly, as he attached a wand to the end of the ominous-looking cylinder. It was long and slender, looked to be glass, with a wide round bulb on the end.
The limo made a smooth left turn. Alan turned the music up louder.
He pushed a switch on the cylinder, and the long tip slowly, slowly kindled into an electric violet light.
Celia’s eyes stretched wider. Her breathing turned to gasps again. The combination of fear and helplessness added to the mystery, to the excitement. Her pussy ached to be touched. She wanted to squeeze her legs together now, now, now!
Alan brought the violet wand closer, then held it above her belly.
“Do you trust me?” he asked quietly. “Do you believe I can show you pleasures you’ve never imagined?”
Eyes fixed on the scary, intriguing instrument in his hand, Celia felt herself nod once, then twice.
What the hell am I doing?
Chapter Three
“Remember. Don’t come without my permission.” Alan moved downward and pressed the glowing glass bulb against her leg. Celia felt an immediate rush of tingling, a bubbling sensation that hummed through her body seemingly all the way to her hair. The wand gave off a soft, steady buzz. “Coming without permission would earn a serious punishment, indeed.”
The music took on a slow, ominous, gripping beat. No tune she recognized, yet every song she had ever heard. Just a background beat, keeping time, matching the subtle sway of the limousine.
Celia tensed, but felt only that wonderful, charging hum across her skin—inside her skin—and the slick, slightly warm surface of the wand traveling from her calf to the top of her foot and back up again. Wherever the wand touched, the hum doubled.
Alan moved his hand, adjusted a control on the wand. Suddenly, the pressure of the wand vanished. Something bit her leg—well, almost like a playful bite. She heard a soft pop and crackle, smelled a touch of lightning in the air. The purple glow in the limo doubled, and Celia sucked air through the—thankfully—wide hole in her penis gag.
Then, on her leg again—she felt like Alan was slowly pouring warm champagne on her ankle, then higher on her calf, her knee…
Hot, tingling, almost painfully warm but not quite, relaxing and arousing all at once. Higher, above her knee, to her thigh. She could feel the buzz everywhere, in her hair, her lips, her teeth, everywhere, everywhere…
Real sparks jumped and bit, just a few, but enough to widen her eyes, amaze her—what was he doing?
The pace of the music increased ever so slightly. A little edgier. More mysterious.
That hint of lightning and the unusual smell of electric energy filled her nose.
She was already so wet. How could she get wetter? But she did. Trembling and shivering, wondering how that fizzling-warming-biting-buzzing would feel on her inner thighs, on her pussy.
“Do you like the wand?” Alan murmured through the hypnotic pound of the music. “I can increase or decrease the power. Keep it at this mildly stimulating level, or turn it up higher. Can you imagine the shock at the highest point?”
OhGodohGodohGod…
“In the old days, technology wasn’t so advanced. Wand cores got hot and melted, so this might only last a few minutes—twenty tops. Now I can tease you for hours.”
OhGodohGodOhGod…
The purple wand eased toward her hip, then circled the joint. Moved away. Sparks made sudden bursts and halos. The sound alone was enough to make her clit ache. The wand returned. Celia felt like warm fingers were massaging the bone, pulling the bass beat of the music into her flesh, into her body.
Alan traced an arc from her hip to her belly button and back again, making her stomach quiver. More sparks, so softly purple, yet so bright. Perfect bites, like he was nibbling at her skin. Waves of pleasant chills covered her from toe to forehead. She felt that crazy distant hum everywhere inside, almost a rumble, blending with the limo’s smooth engine and the ever-present beat, beat, beat of that background song.
“It has more than one attachment, too, the wand. There’s a rake, for example. Three or four prongs—it can be quite electrifying.”
The purple cylinder shimmered and sparked as he covered her belly and chest with slow, deliberate patterns of stings and sudden heat. That almost-acrid scent of storms and lightning was everywhere now, coming from the wand, coming from her. Her nipples jutted out as the champagne-tingles coursed up the sides of her breasts, just missing where she wanted them to go.
The music grew faster.
A warning. A hint.
Tension coiled in Celia’s belly.
Back down went the wand, across her stomach. One hip, then the other. Purple patterns flared in the air. She squirmed against her bonds, scared, excited, wanting more, needing to know where he was headed.
“Of all the toys I’ve learned about, this one is my favorite.” Alan’s grin shimmered, surreal in the wand’s light. He was more than handsome. He was almost godlike sitting over her like he was, showering her with such powerful sensations.
He could do anything to me. Anything at all. Celia’s teeth closed on the penis gag. And the scary thing is, I’d probably like it.
The music quickened yet again.
She almost screamed from the sound.
Then Alan casually flicked the wand over one of her swollen nipples, and she did scream against the gag. She damned near came on the spot from the shock and intense, total pleasure. Her body bucked against her will. She found herself shoving her chest up, up, into the lavender arc, into the sparks and that hot, tickle-burning light.
Alan worked her like a surgeon, stinging one nipple, tweaking the other, back and forth, back and forth, working in time to the song. The wand felt like an unforgiving mouth, like teeth, like the softest, thinnest lash imaginable.
Celia’s world narrowed to that impossibly erotic torture. The limo, the mirroring glass above her, the music, the reality of movement—everything melted into the sweet purple fire, the heady lightning scent, the arch of her back, the pump of her hips, the grip of the restraints on her wrists and ankles. Her clit ached in time with the rhythm of Alan’s wand strokes on her nipples, with that intoxicating music and the fascinating, leaping sparks.
Every inch of her wanted his touch. Wanted his fingers, his hands, his mouth, the wand, whatever he would give her, however he wanted to give it.
He moved it down, down, across her belly, ringing her belly button and down to the triangle of red curls so damp and ready.
She sucked in more air
as he fingered her swollen lips, pulled them apart, exposed her throbbing clit to the air, to his scrutiny.
“So beautiful.” His low, enticing voice seemed to come from somewhere else, somewhere unearthly. Did he say that? Did the words come from the music?
Her senses spun.
The heat of the wand, the tingling pulse, struck the apex of her parted lower lips, and Celia screamed into the gag again. Reflex made her bite down as he traced her once around, outside the lips to her tight lower hole, then back up the other side.
Like hot wax bubbling against her most private, most responsive places, stopping just short of burning her pussy, melting her inside and out.
The music reached its summit, thumping along, sending ripples of sound through the limo.
Celia squeezed her eyes shut. Sweat coated her body. She was straining, shoving her hips as high as she could, utterly unable to stop, to control her movement or the ragged heave of her breath, or the moans and shouts spent against the well-bitten penis gag.
Alan eased the wand across her clit.
Sparks fired against Celia’s eyelids. Her whole being shook as the moving, undulating heat bit that sensitive bud, pitching her high, higher, too high, into space.
“Don’t stop,” she was shouting into the penis gag. “Please God, don’t stop, don’t stop, no, no, no, damn you—”
But he was stopping, pressing the wand against the flesh of her thighs, turning it off, moving it away, leaving her unfulfilled.
The music lessened to nothing, then went quiet.
Bastard, bastard, bastard!
Her body was nothing but a tingling, burning, pool of need. She wasn’t even sure her skin still existed.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” asked the mathematician who suddenly seemed able to read her mind. “You love being teased.”
Celia opened her eyes just in time to see him fasten a metal tube onto the wand. He tucked the wand under her left wrist, letting the cool metal rest against her skin. He used a strand of the rubber restraint to fix it into place, then left it there, off and quiet.
He leaned down, and his face hovered above Celia’s, with those handsome, high cheekbones and that rogue’s grin. She loved the way he caressed her with his eyes, like she was a warrior’s prize, like she might be the only female he had ever truly wanted. His blond hair looked so soft. Her fingers curled against the limo floor. If it weren’t for the restraints, she would have fisted his hair, pulled it, forced him to take off her gag and kiss her.
Hot Lessons Page 3
