Falloir (Passion Noire Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

switch legs and then repeats the action, removing my other boot.
    I begin to wish that I did have thigh highs on. It would take him a lot longer to unthread the laces ... and I’d get to look down on him, muscles working to make those tattoos dance. And on his knees, with his head bowed, I can’t see those eyes ... just as I didn’t notice them when I sat on his face last night, either because he’d squeezed them shut or because my head had been thrown back repeatedly. I’ll say this for him, he’s got one talented tongue. It makes me wonder what other talents he has ...
    Maybe the challenge I need isn’t to bring any alpha to their knees. Maybe it’s this alpha. The nearest physical representation to my nemesis that I’ve ever seen or am likely to see. Irises the colour of iced aquamarine aren’t common. Neither is a body quite as fuckable as this one ... when his towel had fallen last night, I’d been half tempted to lower myself on to that erect vision of perfection. But the call to see how Jones would deal with the humiliation of queening had been strong. I don’t use the word perfection lightly. That cock should be the cock by which all others are measured. In terms of beauty, size (girth as well as length) and full on throbbing masculinity it is, quite simply, fucking perfect.
    I push the memory of it away to enable me to think clearly. The biggest issue in my mind is timing. Until I know whether I’m still protected from my nemesis, I shouldn’t tackle something that’s going to rattle my little boxes. There’s also the complication of The Kid and Jones’ relationship and the fallout that could result from that. And don’t even mention all the Thierri shit.
    Perhaps it would be better to avoid muddying the waters with Jones. I have Dean to train but I think I need to face up to the fact that he’s not committed enough to make a truly great sub. I’d thought initially that he might make it but he needs to sort his mother issues out. Then he’ll probably settle down with someone who’s not afraid to call the shots in bed ... and probably out of it as well. Yeah, I think it’s a waste of time to attempt to train him as a sub.
    My job, from now on, will be to teach Dean to be a considerate lover. He needs to learn how to read a woman’s body and how to respond to it with skill. And, in order to break his burgeoning dependence and possessiveness of me, I’m going to throw him in the deep end with several club subs who help me out from time to time. Some of those who are without a current Master are often glad to assist me with clients who have physical needs. Plus there are a couple of clients I might consider for the purpose.
    I bring myself out of my therapist’s bubble to find Jones, still on his knees, watching me intently. He looks so subservient for a moment that my nipples try to reach out and grab his attention. There’s hunger in his eyes, along with eagerness, tempered by restraint ... and there’s something else ... unless I’m very mistaken it’s respect.
    My resolve to steer clear of him cracks ... the evil one had never looked at me with respect. As I’m struggling to repair my determination, and failing badly, Jones hops effortlessly back on to his feet. I blow out an unsteady breath. I was so close to throwing caution to the wind, right here, right now. But as Jones walks away from me, he pushes his jeans down, stepping out of them without breaking stride.
    My eyes greedily take in the muscular canvas of art, narrowing to a lean waist that sits atop an arse that is so toned, it looks solid when he moves. Long, long, sculpted legs complete the package. I swallow. I recall the hunger in his eyes and I’m glad he’s no longer studying me. If he were, he’d see I’m fucking ravenous.

I KNOCK THE TEMPERATURE of the water down—not a cold shower exactly but something that will cool me the fuck down. Otherwise, I can see myself doing something incredibly stupid. I’d agreed to