Naughty Bits Part IV: The Highest Bid Read Online Free PDF

her to the couch. She’d borrowed from her stock and changed for the club into a pair of dance heels, a short skirt and a sexy silky blouse through which she’d felt the heat of his hands quite a few times tonight. His eyes had often dipped into the low-cut, gathered neckline to catch a glimpse of the barely there lace bra beneath. She’d put up her hair for the dancing, which exposed her neck.
    Now, as she kept her gaze on him, he picked up a collar he’d left on the couch arm. It was a serviceable collar, like one she’d seen him put on Troy, though this had a more slender strap, one he buckled around her neck snugly, but it wasn’t too tight. He let her see the next piece as well, a heart-shaped lock about a square inch in size. When he hooked it into the buckling piece of the collar, she realized it meant the collar couldn’t be removed without opening the lock. Suddenly that small weight seemed much more substantial.
    He bent again, picked up the chain she’d heard clanking. He’d attached it to the leg of the sofa, just as she’d described. Threading the padlock into the end link of the chain, he attached it to the collar and snapped the lock closed. Now neither chain nor collar could be removed without him providing the key.
    He wasn’t done, however. As he sat her down on the couch, her pulse had speeded up even more. He guided her legs so she was reclined on a hip, then he moved down to the opposite end. Taking another chain and attaching the end of it to the opposite sofa leg, he looped the slack around her ankle and beneath the sole of the shoe before using another small padlock to secure the chain at her ankle. It held her foot securely to the other end of the couch with just enough length she could keep her foot up on the cushions.
    If he’d left her attached only at one point, the collar, she could have slipped off the couch, moved around. Even lifted the end of the sofa if it wasn’t too heavy and slipped the chain attached to her collar out from under its anchor. Now, stretched between the two points, that was impossible. Not uncomfortably so. She could partially sit up, even stretch out on her back, but she wasn’t getting away from the couch without his help, and the psychology of that elicited a potent reaction.
    His fingers slid up her inner thigh. Without any command from him, she parted her legs. Reaching beneath the short skirt, Logan stroked her through the thin barrier of the panties.
    “Christ, you’re as soaked as if you climaxed.” He gave her a mock-stern look, pinched her clit, making her jump, gasp. “Did you masturbate while you were in the bathroom?”
    “No, Master.” She shook her head. “You know I didn’t. It’s just . . . you make me this way.”
    Those licks of fire in his eyes were going to make her burst into flame. He bent, put his lips on her thigh, his nostrils flaring as he obviously inhaled her scent. Then he straightened. “If I didn’t have to concentrate, I’d put a vibrator on you and watch you come again and again,” he said. “But I think this will be enough to inspire me. My client’s going to get my best work tonight, thanks to you.”
    How could any rational woman explain why it turned her into a pool of lust to be collared and chained by such a man? Such feelings only increased as he moved to do his work, leaving her there as his possession, to be enjoyed and used by him at his leisure, not her own. Knowing he did it
because
it made
her so intensely aroused, her helpless pleasure driving his? It was indescribable.
    Yes, she could see herself during a night out with the women she’d worked with at her former job in Boston. “Oh, Doris, I’m so glad to hear you aced your recent board meeting and sent that bunch of sexist assholes home with their tails between their legs. Last weekend, I was chained to a sofa like a sex slave by a man I’ve started to call Master.”
And I’ve never felt so cherished . . . or felt so loved . . . in