Double the Pleasure

by Julie Leto

  Reina took the opportunity to stretch her back. She’d been working all day, and, besides, the movement lured Grey’s attention to her breasts.

  “According to the diary, they didn’t make love completely until nearly a year after he started his seduction.”

  Grey frowned. “Too late for us.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t want to be Viviana, Grey. I just want a taste of what she experienced.”

  “Was she as strong willed as you are?”

  She pointed at the diary. “What do you think?”

  Grey read aloud.

  “My hands quiver as I write this. My heart pounds like the hoofbeats of a thousand horses. I’ve even taken to writing not in my bedroom as usual, but in a small space hidden in the corner of my house, a tiny candle at my feet. If anyone were to discover my secret…!”

  “You can feel her battling between the thrill and the forbidden, can’t you?” Reina asked.

  Grey nodded and continued.

  “Last night, il Gio’s seduction tested all that I am. I am frightened by what I have discovered. What is a woman who would do anything for pleasure? And yet, I cannot feel shame. I do not. Not when my lover, even when he demands, holds my heart in tender hands—hands that have brought me so much delight, I wonder what more he can give me.”

  Grey glanced up at Reina, and his expression, at once unfathomable and serious, injected an ounce of doubt into her plan. She felt certain he’d play the game she’d laid out, not for him, but for her. Did Grey hold her heart with tender hands? she wondered all of a sudden. And if he did, how had he gotten hold of it in the first place?

  “He sent me the satin box yesterday morning. I did not know what the jewelry was. I suspected a necklace, but had already learned that il Gio’s creations served two purposes—beauty on the outside, decadence within. The chain had three ends…”

  As Grey read, Reina scooted back on the bed and removed the chain from the box, laying it out between them as Viviana described it.

  “The clasps twisted in place like baubles for the ears, two large and padded with soft leather, the third smaller and tighter from a spring.”

  Grey closed the book.

  “Don’t you want Viviana to tell us how to use it?”

  He lifted one of the large screw-on clasps. “I’m not a sixteenth-century woman, Reina. Neither are you. We both know what this is for.”

  He reached out, poising the clasp at her nipple, but he was too far away to reach. “I’ll have to come closer.”

  He crawled on his hands and knees, stalking her across the bed like a tiger on the hunt. In the dim light, his blue eyes sparkled with unadulterated lust and single-minded pursuit. The chain, still clutched in his fist, caught a glint from the lamplight.

  She pulled her knees beneath her, bringing her breasts to the level of his eyes.

  He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “You’re not erect enough for a snug fit. I’ll have to fix that.”

  A surge of excitement trilled through her, anticipation born from both the rough sound in his voice and knowing he’d soon take her in his mouth. He licked his lips hungrily. Her breath caught.

  “Give me your breast,” he ordered.

  Her pulse quickened, but she did as he asked, lifting her breast to his mouth so he didn’t have to move. He rewarded her compliance instantly, suckling her until she was tight and hard and wet.

  He finished with a soft, reverent kiss—his gaze locked with hers—causing a burning sensation behind her eyes.

  “Now the other.”

  Once he had her hard and ready, he knelt across from her and released the chain. The gold dangled down his bare body, brushing against his thick erection and powerful thighs. Reina watched him fumble with the clamp, her anxiousness building to such a pitch she had to fist her hands to keep from grabbing the nipple clamps and putting them on herself. With any other man, she wouldn’t have curbed her impatience. With any other man, she wouldn’t have possessed any patience at all, much less worked up the courage to use it.

  But with Grey, she did.

  What was happening to her?

  The mechanism she’d reconstructed only a few hours ago from pieces hidden away for over three hundred years seemed too small for his huge hands. But, not surprisingly, his fingers soon proved nimble. In seconds, he had the soft inner pads of kid leather pressed to either side of her nipple.

  “You’ll have to tell me when it’s too tight,” he said, then began to twist the screw that controlled the fit.

  Reina didn’t know which sensation rocked her more—the slow, increasing squeeze on her sensitive skin or the fire from the intensity in his eyes.

  She glanced down, afraid of what she saw in his stare. Too much concern for her comfort, too much care for more than just her body.

  “Look at me,” he said.

  He turned the screw.

  She gasped and met his eyes.

  “Tight enough?”

  She swallowed. “No.”

  He flicked the pad of his thumb over the protruding nipple. The feeling was such a mishmash of pleasure and pain, she could only whimper in response. “You’re sure? I don’t intend to hurt you.”

  She nodded. “Just a little…”

  He slowly turned the screw, stopping when she gasped. He found the other clasp and turned his attention to applying the same forbidden pleasure to her left breast. When he had the clamps in place, he dragged his hands down the Y-shaped chains. The exquisite, teardrop ruby she’d set at the joining point, as detailed by il Gio’s designs, skimmed just above her navel. From there, a single chain dangled farther, a smaller clasp designed with a tiny spring at the end.

  He lifted the last piece. “I suppose this is supposed to attach, where? On your lips? Your clit?”

  She nodded, unsure if she possessed the ability to speak while the clamps provided a constant, exquisite pressure on her nipples.

  “Ah, lover’s choice. But when il Gio first used this on Viviana, he didn’t intend to make love to her, did he?”

  She shook her head, pressing her lips tightly together, reveling in the slick feel of her glossy lipstick. The one he loved. The one she’d worn just for him.

  He dropped the last clasp and scooted nearer. His erection swatted the chain aside and caused a slight tug on her nipples. She gasped, but he seemed to ignore the sound.

  “He probably just toyed with her, didn’t he? But she didn’t know what she’d miss if he gave her an orgasm without being inside her, did she? Not yet. But you know, Reina, don’t you? You know.”

  Yes, she knew! She didn’t want the empty pleasure of an orgasm without intercourse. She could manage that herself. She wanted only what Grey seemed to be able to give her—fulfillment. Completeness. Pleasure that touched her deep, deep inside.

  She managed a nod.

  “Tell me.”

  “I want you.”

  “Oh, that I know. But at this point, you’d want any man, wouldn’t you?”

  He tugged the chain again, this time toward him, stretching her nipples the most infinitesimal, exquisite amount.

  “No,” she confessed. “Only you.”

  “Why?”

  She shook her head, unwilling to call to action the clarity of mind to formulate an answer. To think so hard meant she’d have to ignore the sensations coursing through her, from the tight clamps on her breasts to the increasing moisture between her legs.

  “Tell me, Reina. We had an agreement, remember?”

  She spied the roguish glint in his eyes and spat a vulgar curse.

  “Why?” he repeated.

  She swallowed deeply, willing her mouth to work. “You excite me.”

  “You’re a fairly excitable woman, so primed.” He dropped the chain and splayed his hands across her backside. The possessive spread of his fingers, the pressure as he clasped and kneaded her buttocks, reminded her of all the other erogenous zones on her body, all the ones she’d ignored while her breasts experie
nced the breathtaking torture of the clamps. “You’re so aware of your every want and need. And you’re willing to do whatever it takes to find satisfaction, aren’t you?”

  He dipped his fingers low, spreading her so that a kiss of cool air sparked a quick but potent thrill. Like a match to kerosene, a fire caught at the base of her wetness and traveled straight inside.

  She fought a whimper and straightened her spine. She couldn’t tell if he meant his assessment to be a compliment or a backhanded criticism, but she didn’t care. She was who she was and she couldn’t change. Wouldn’t change. Not for any man. Not even him.

  “Yes, so what?”

  “Are you willing to let down your defenses? Tell me a secret, Reina. You said last night you had a lot of them. Tell me one I’d never guess.”

  Before she could answer, before she could decide whether she even intended to answer, he dipped his head and flicked her nipples with his tongue. A shock wave shot through her and she had to grab his shoulders to keep from falling. Her flesh, numb from the constant pressure, sought the sensations of his mouth like dry soil needing water. Lots and lots of water.

  He blazed a path from breast to breast, then traced his tongue to her neck, where he marked her with wondrous nips and bites. Just enough to stir her passions to a fever pitch, just enough to leave tiny evidence of his loving on her skin.

  When he straightened to make love to her ear, he moved the last few inches closer so that his erection slipped between her thighs. He was so hard, so curved. Memories of how perfectly he had fit inside her the night before flooded her brain, erasing whatever response she almost had to whatever question he’d asked a moment before.

  He pulled back, leaving her skin moist from his kisses.

  “Well? I’m waiting.”

  She swallowed, willed herself to breathe, tried to find the answer to his inscrutable question somewhere in his eyes.

  “I don’t know what you want from me, Grey.”

  “Don’t you? I want a glimpse inside your heart. I want to know what you really want from a man, besides an orgasm.”

  She felt herself shaking her head even before she realized how she couldn’t answer the question. Not because she didn’t want to share the intimacy he wanted, but because she didn’t know the answer—truly, completely, honestly—she didn’t know.

  “I don’t want anything from you.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “You don’t think you do, but you do. Dig deeper, Reina. Tell me what you want. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to give it to you.”

  His persistence piqued her ire, but the feel of him so close, pulsing with need that matched her own, toned her anger to clear indignation. “Grey, I swear. I don’t want anything except you, inside me, taking me outside myself, for an instant.”

  She turned her gaze aside, and in the moment it took for her to recover from her loss of control, he sat, donned a condom, then began removing the clamps around her nipples.

  The sweet gentleness of his touch renewed the trickle of hot fire down the back of her throat. The minute the golden torture device dropped on the comforter, a searing heat burned her breasts. Before she could even wince in response, he used his mouth and hands to soothe her skin, renew her desire.

  “I’ll give you more than an instant, Reina,” he said, moving his legs between hers and positioning her above his erection.

  “Give what you want to give, Grey. I won’t ask…”

  Her voice died away as the truth struggled closer to the surface, but he burst the elusive conclusion by grabbing her hips and easing inside her.

  “You don’t have to ask. Not with me. I know what you want from me, chère, because I want the same from you.”

  He rolled them over, carefully, dislodging their connection so briefly Reina hardly remembered the loss when he penetrated her to the hilt. He took her wrists, poised them over her head and spoke firmly.

  “Don’t move.”

  He eased back until only the tip of his penis remained cupped inside her.

  “Feel me,” he said, thrusting slowly, fully, filling her until she arched her back to take more. “Yeah, that’s it.”

  He transferred both her wrists to one hand, then lifted her knees with the other so her shins pressed against the taut muscles in his chest. The pose allowed him to drive deeper, farther. When he gently unfolded her legs and crossed her ankles over his left shoulder, she thought he’d somehow found his way beyond the last barrier that kept them two separate beings.

  In this position, she couldn’t touch him, couldn’t pleasure him, couldn’t do anything but lose herself in the complete and unhindered satisfaction of her deepest desires. Yet she heard the escalation of his excitement, the deepening of his voice, the raggedness of his breath that told her he didn’t need her to do anything more but feel him inside her to glean his ultimate gratification.

  The slow build of pressure burst into a wave of sensations she couldn’t fight. Not that he wanted her to. “That’s it,” he repeated as her moans grew louder and his sex drove deeper.

  They came together, tight and tense and long. When she shouted his name, he continued to thrust, continued to push her so high her eyes flashed open in amazed wonder.

  She didn’t remember anything after that until he snuggled beside her beneath the comforter, his hand curled protectively across her belly. She waited for his breathing to regulate, for her to hear the sounds of his sleep.

  But she didn’t hear them. Long minutes ticked by as she watched the digital clock tucked unobtrusively behind a cloisonné tile she’d bought on Royal Street last summer. She tried to remember that shopping spree, who she’d been with, what else she’d bought, where she’d stopped for lunch. The details flitted by, never rooting, never allowing her the reprieve she desperately wanted, a short respite from the realization that Grey Masterson meant something to her. Something important. Something that, even if he left tomorrow, would forever alter the woman she was and the goals she’d set for her life.

  “Reina?”

  A mechanical beeping sounded from across the hall before she replied.

  They both shot up in the bed. Reina clutched the sheet to her breasts. “What’s that?” she asked, guessing the security system had been tripped but not wanting to accept that possibility.

  “The alarm. Stay here,” he ordered, dashing over her on the bed and grabbing his pants in the process.

  This time, however, Reina had no intention of allowing Grey to be the boss.

  11

  GREY SCRAMBLED INTO HIS JEANS, not bothering with the zipper or button. He heard the rustle of the sheet as Reina dragged it around her and followed close at his heels. Damn if she chose now to revert to her normal mode of doing whatever the hell she pleased. He tapped a code in the control panel and immediately silenced the beeping.

  “Why aren’t alarms going off? The loud ones?” Reina asked, her voice breathless, and clearly annoyed.

  “Do you want to scare your thief away, or catch him in the act?”

  Reina remained silent, and his blood surged. He didn’t doubt she was an adventurer at heart, but risking the collection was something he didn’t think she’d do under any circumstances, even if it meant catching her thief. Of course, except for the contraption they’d just put to incredible use, the bulk of il Gio’s jewels were stored safely behind the hidden walls of the secret workshop. And they had no way of knowing if whoever had just crossed onto Reina’s property was the same person responsible for the robberies. For all he knew, her mother had stopped by to find out why she hadn’t attended that fund-raiser tonight.

  He read the panel of lights and flipped on the video monitors.

  “Whoever it is hasn’t come up the walk,” he said, waiting for someone to come into view on the monitor poised over the front porch. “But that beep was on the front gate.”

  “The front gate? Doesn’t sound like a robber,” she said, the smirk clear in her voice. “Sounds like a visitor.”

  Grey gl
anced at the time display on the computer. It was after ten o’clock. “At this hour?”

  “In New Orleans? Absolutely. Can you see who it is?”

  Grey waited, but he saw nothing. The view of the gate, now closed tight, remained empty. He flipped to the back door. Nothing. With clouds blocking out the moon and the porch lights focused on the doors and windows, he couldn’t see if anyone lurked along the thick rows of ferns or behind the barrel-trunked live oaks or massive magnolias.

  “Someone could be in the yard, waiting.”

  Behind him, she yawned. “Maybe an animal tripped the alarm. A cat or a squirrel,” she reasoned.

  Grey shook his head and waited. “I don’t think so. I have a strange feeling…”

  He picked up the phone and dialed the number Brandon had written on a card and taped to the side of the main monitor. He gave the address and the pass codes to the operator that answered, then instructed them to ignore any alarm set off at their address for the next hour.

  “Why did you do that?”

  Without taking his eyes off the screens, he fastened his jeans and slipped on a T-shirt. From the bottom of his bag, he pulled out a gun, checked the safety, then tucked it into his pocket.

  “I don’t want to scare anyone away.” He grabbed his cell phone and tossed it to her. She caught it but nearly lost the sheet she’d twisted over her body like a toga. Grey entertained a quick but potent vision of her as Athena, the beautiful goddess of wisdom and war. They hadn’t discussed the details of handling a potential break-in at the house, but he knew she possessed enough intelligence and resourcefulness to accept any challenge he threw her way.

  She used the phone to point at his gun. “I didn’t know newspaper editors came armed and dangerous,” she said, her voice devoid of any inflection that would have told him whether or not she approved or disapproved. The woman’s ability to veil her emotions was starting to grate on his nerves.