Pleasure Games

by Daire St. Denis

  “Non,” he said softly.

  Jasmine’s heart would have plummeted from insecurity if not for the obvious flame of desire in his gaze.

  “I need to make you come first.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “YOU WANT TO...” she gasped as if the sentence was hard to finish “...make me come?”

  “Yes.”

  She drew in a shaky breath and then exhaled again. “Do you have...condoms?” she asked, looking like some combination of innocent school girl and sultry vixen.

  “Condoms?” he frowned. Then he shook his head.

  She gnawed on her bottom lip. “Damn.”

  Pulling her body close and running his hand down the curve of her spine—better than he’d fucking imagined—he left his hand on the top of her ass and whispered, “There are plenty of ways to make you come without having to use condoms.”

  Because her body was so close, he felt the deep tremor that coursed through her, like his words had evoked a shock of some kind. Jesus, if simply telling her what he was going to do made her body react like this, what would this woman be like in the throes of an orgasm?

  Luca couldn’t wait to find out.

  “But first...” He tilted her chin up and kissed her. Her mouth was warm and wet and sexy as hell. He pulled her closer and she parted her legs so that his cock fit snugly up into the warm apex of her thighs. He was so fucking tempted to simply adjust the angle and slide into her...

  But not yet.

  Something told him that she was not as experienced as she claimed. Could be the way her body trembled when she touched him. Or the way her eyes changed so often from a lust-filled haze to clouded with uncertainty.

  With regret, he pulled back and smiled down at her. “Now...”

  “Yes?”

  There it was. That hopeful innocence he’d detected that told him to take it slow—now that he’d made the decision to fuck her.

  “We dry off, get dressed and eat.”

  She blinked up at him in confusion. Oh, this was going to be both painful and too much fun. He ran the backs of his knuckles down her cheek and then swiped his thumb across her parted lips. She shut her eyes and automatically opened to take him in. Fuck, her mouth was to die for. So soft and sweet and innocent and sexy all at once.

  “You enjoy tempting me?” he asked harshly.

  Sucking deeply on his thumb—just like she’d done to his cock—she finally pulled his hand away and said, “I enjoy having parts of you inside of me. If that tempts you...” She shrugged.

  And there was the other side of the coin that was Jasmine. A sexual force like a hurricane that had a calm center but could easily wreak havoc and destruction.

  “Come.” He took her hand and coerced her out of the shower. There was only one towel and he dried her off first: her torso—she had pretty, dusky hued nipples, so fucking suckable. He moved down to her belly, then he dried the length of each leg before carefully rubbing the towel between. After that, he dried her hair.

  She stood completely still, her lids fluttering as if she found it difficult to keep them open as she let him towel her off.

  “Go get dressed,” he instructed with a light slap on her bottom. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  She blinked. There was the tiniest wrinkle between her arched brows. Then she turned and padded toward the door. She did not glance back, but she did sashay her ass in a way that was obviously meant to entice him. Her swaying backside prompted an urge to stride after her, grab her shoulder, spin her around and take her—hard—up against the door.

  It would feel so fucking good.

  Luca was in desperate need of release...

  Non.

  He would save that maneuver for later. For now, he wanted to take his time, build her arousal and get her body so fucking ready for him that she would fall apart without his even touching her.

  * * *

  She wore her new dress, the one she’d picked up at the shop, the one the shop girl had oohed and aahed over. It was white and sheer with spaghetti straps and a hemline that was high in the front and low in the back. It made Jasmine feel both sexy and virginal. When she swept into the kitchen, her heart beating a million miles a minute—though she did her best to maintain a cool, seductive smile—she was rewarded by a grumbling sound Luca made at the back of his throat. There was also a spark in his blue eyes and a smile that only lifted one corner of his mouth.

  “You are beautiful.”

  It was such a simple statement. And yet the huskiness of his voice suggested he wanted to tear the fabric from her body and finish what they’d started in the bathroom.

  How would he do it? How would he make her come? With his hands? His mouth?

  Oh, please. Let it be with his mouth.

  He’d already begun preparing a meal, and while Jasmine wanted to help—she was no slouch in the kitchen—he seemed to have things completely under control. Actually, that summed him up. Luca was a man who liked to be in control of situations. Even when he was ripping along at inhuman speeds on the motorcycle, Jasmine had known intrinsically that Luca was in complete control.

  Supper was a thick, fluffy omelet with bits of cured meat, cheese and fresh herbs. To accompany it, Luca had opened a bottle of wine, a light white, that was absolutely delicious. They ate on the terrace as the sun began to set. Jasmine was ravenous. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

  “So,” Luca said, his wine glass in hand, his eyes hooded. “Before I...” He paused. A subtle smile touched his lips as if he was thinking something irreverent—what was it?—then he changed the subject. “Tell me more about yourself.”

  “Before I tell you any more about myself, it’s your turn to tell me a little bit about you.”

  Luca’s posture changed from open and alluring to rigid and guarded. “There is not much to tell.”

  “Who are you running from?”

  She didn’t think he was going to answer. He stared out at the horizon and drank. Finally, he said, “I had an altercation with the police a few weeks ago.”

  “Are you a fugitive?”

  He shrugged. “Depends on your definition.”

  So...she was aiding and abetting an outlaw. That thought should have terrified her. Instead, a thrill raced through her, not unlike the thrill she’d experienced on the back of his motorcycle. That, combined with the lingering arousal from the shower and the desire that Luca’s mere presence elicited, meant Jasmine had never felt more alive.

  “What do you do? For work?” She paused. “Or...do you work?”

  He regarded her carefully as if weighing what to say. Finally he said, “I used to race motorcycles. But I don’t anymore.”

  “So now you...?”

  “I am on vacation from my job.” He lifted the glass of wine. “I work for a vintner.”

  So that was why he knew so much about the vines in the vineyard.

  “And now your turn. What do you do, when you aren’t visiting Paris, losing your belongings and finding yourself concussed on a street corner?”

  “You make me sound like a prostitute.”

  He cocked his head to one side and Jasmine couldn’t decide if she should be offended or not.

  “Don’t look at me like that. It was not an insult.”

  He’d read her mind. Or perhaps he’d simply read her body language. Either way, it felt good to be read so easily by him. Like he was actually paying attention to her.

  Luca refilled her glass. “Do you want to know what I think?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, do I?”

  He set his wine glass down and reached across the table to caress the back of her hand. “I think you came to Paris looking for something.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because if given the choice between a planned vacation and a...hideout in the Fre
nch countryside, most people would choose the former.”

  “Maybe.”

  “The question is, why? Why do you want to be here? With me?”

  She tugged on her hand but he held it firmly. So instead of pulling away, she squeezed. “Honestly? I can’t quite explain it. I just know that at this moment in time, there is nowhere I’d rather be.”

  Luca regarded her carefully. Though he gave very little away, the fact that his thumb caressed the back of her hand told her he was pleased by her answer. But his question did stay with her as she sipped her wine. What was it about him that compelled her to act so irrationally?

  God. It was everything about him. His tone of voice—the French accent didn’t hurt—his intense stares, his touch, his words, his mouth, his hands, his hard body...

  Yes, it was all of that, but most of all it was the fact that he desired her.

  Her.

  That, in itself, was the most intoxicating thing.

  * * *

  What was it about this woman that made him so hard? She was stunning, particularly right now with her dress glowing against the darker tone of her skin and her large eyes that seemed to capture what remained of the sunset, only to reflect the light back at him. She was absolutely beautiful. But, Luca had been with beautiful women before. No. There was something else about her. Maybe it was her passion tempered with a delicious degree of innocence. Luca couldn’t really pinpoint what drove him to want to give this woman what she asked for.

  Non, Luca didn’t want to give her what she asked for; he wanted to give her more. Much more. Starting right now. “Do you have a good imagination?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you like to fantasize?”

  Jasmine made a strange face, like she’d been caught in a lie, which was an interesting reaction.

  “Everyone fantasizes, Jasmine. It is not a crime.”

  “I know,” she said quickly, suddenly finding something very interesting about her wine glass. “Of course I fantasize about things.”

  “About sex?”

  “Mm-hmm.” It was more of a squeak than an acknowledgment.

  “Tell me one.”

  “You want me to tell you what I fantasize about?”

  “Yes. You said you aren’t afraid to ask for what you want, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, our fantasies are our deepest desires. So, tell me one of yours. What is it that you want?”

  Was she blushing? He reached across to touch her cheek. Jesus. She was burning up.

  Why did her charming blush send blood right to his balls?

  “Have you ever envisioned being tied up?” he asked when she didn’t supply an answer. The question just came out, revealing more about himself than he should be sharing.

  She sucked in a breath and nodded.

  “Why don’t you tell me about it?” he pressed.

  Jasmine swirled her wine glass, thinking. Luca could hear her breaths, coming faster and faster. What was going on in her head? Was she envisioning something right now?

  Softly he asked, “Have you ever imagined a man taking control of your body?”

  Her gaze rose to meet his. He noted both excitement and fear in her fevered gaze.

  “Are you able to trust this man in your fantasy enough to let go, so that you can experience pleasure beyond anything you’ve known before?”

  She drew a sharp breath between her sweetly parted lips as she stared at him.

  That was what this fantasy meant for Luca. It wasn’t about control. It was about trust. A lover who was willing to place her pleasure in his hands was the biggest turn-on.

  Maybe because trust was so very rare, in Luca’s experience, as Anika and her fucking video had confirmed.

  Finally, Jasmine tipped her glass to her mouth and finished her wine.

  “I have imagined something along those lines,” she said quietly.

  “And do you trust me?”

  “I do.” The little wrinkle formed between her brows. “I mean, I probably shouldn’t, because I barely know you.” She wet her lips. “But I do.”

  Luca set his glass down, pushed himself to his feet and held his hand out for her to take. Jasmine’s felt warm and small in his as he pulled her to her feet and walked her back inside, leading her down the hall to the master bedroom. The moment the door was shut, Jasmine turned in his arms, went up on tiptoes and kissed him.

  Luca kissed her deeply before gently pushing her away. It was too easy to get carried away with this woman. If he wasn’t careful, he’d have her clothes off—and his—and would find himself buried deeply inside her body before either of them knew what was happening.

  Non.

  He had other plans for her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as he held her at arms’ length.

  “I’m going to fulfill your fantasy.”

  “O-kay.”

  “And I’m going to make you come. All without touching you.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “You will.” Luca moved to an armchair that sat in the corner of the room. He dragged it closer to the bed. “You are going to do exactly as I say. Do you understand?”

  She opened her mouth to reply but only ragged little breaths emerged. So she nodded her head.

  “Now, take off your dress.”

  She stayed where she was, regarding him for a few minutes. “Why don’t you take it off for me?”

  “That’s not how this works.” He sat down and leaned back in the chair. “Take it off, Jasmine. Now.”

  Her arms went behind her back and she unzipped the dress. Then she nudged each strap until they hung down her arms. Finally, as if it was a sentient being, the dress slipped, slithering down her body and pooling around her feet.

  Luca took a deep breath through his nose as he gazed at her in her cream-colored lace undergarments.

  “Lie down on the bed and raise your hands above your head beside the pillow.” He waited until she complied before continuing. “Spread your legs. Wide.”

  “Like this?”

  “Yes.” He dragged the chair closer so he could see her better. “Now, imagine your limbs are tied to the bedposts.”

  Jasmine rubbed her lips together. “Okay.”

  “You have a gag around your mouth so you may not speak. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “You just spoke.”

  She nodded to show she understood.

  “Good. You are waiting on the bed, blindfolded. Waiting for the sound of a man to come into the room. You are completely at his mercy. This scares you and yet excites you, as well.”

  She made a soft sound at the back of her throat.

  “You have been fantasizing about him, though you barely know him. You think about his hands, how it would feel if he were to touch you...”

  Her fists opened and closed. Shit, she was so responsive. Of course she was.

  “You have watched his lips when he speaks, wondering how they would feel, on your mouth, your breasts, your thighs...your clit.”

  She writhed at the mention of the word clit. Luca smiled. “But it is his cock that keeps you up at night. You can’t stop thinking about it. Longing to know how it would feel in your hand. The skin. The tip. The weight of his balls. You hunger to taste it, to suck it gently into your mouth, to explore it with your tongue. But most of all, your pussy aches with the need to feel it rammed up inside of you. Slowly at first, wonderfully, painfully slow, until you cry out for more and only then, when you are on the verge of tears, does he slam it home...”

  Her hands clenched the comforter and her legs strained against invisible bonds. She shifted her ass. Why? To create friction to ease some secret itch?

  Luca’s body responded to hers. His dick throbbed behind the
denim of his jeans. He popped the button and let the zipper slide open. “The door opens and someone comes in. It’s the man. You can tell by his footsteps. He is there in the room with you.”

  Jasmine moaned.

  Fuck.

  Luca shoved his hand down the front of his jeans, needing to pull himself free. He was so fucking hard it hurt.

  “Would you like me to tell you what he’s going to do to you?”

  She didn’t say yes. That would be breaking the rules of the fantasy. But her answer—nodding her head while making needy sounds at the back of her throat—was clearly consent.

  * * *

  Jasmine’s body was on fire. No one had ever spoken to her like this before. Not even close.

  “He gazes down at you, naked and tied to his bed. His to do with as he pleases.”

  She sucked in a breath. Why did that statement excite her? It shouldn’t...but it did. It did so much.

  “He has watched you, touched you, even kissed you, and now he is going to have you. Just the way he wants you.”

  Oh, God. Maybe this was too much...

  “He starts with the toes on your left foot. Painted so prettily, like little candies.”

  He’d noticed her toe nail polish?

  “Sitting on the foot of the bed, he caresses your toes before leaning down to suck on each one, drawing them into his warm mouth. Your body responds violently and with pleasure.”

  Jasmine’s hips flew off the bed in response to the imagery. Her toes sucked? She’d never imagined such a thing. But now? She could practically feel it. Warm and wet, his mouth lapping at her. Sucking on her.

  “He touches your feet, made more sensitive by the bonds, the bottoms, the tops, your ankles, before sliding his hands up your calves and thighs. You moan as he caresses higher and higher. Showing him where you want him to touch by the way you lift your hips off the bed.”

  It was like he was there. She could feel him kneeling between her legs, and her clit throbbed with the idea that she was spread before him.

  “Your bare pussy is exquisite and he lightly strokes over your mound, dragging the backs of his knuckles over your clit. Circling the inside of your thighs and lightly pressing just the tips of his fingers into your wet heat.”