WhatHeDemands (domination erotica) Read Online Free PDF Page A

as he broke the kiss to nip at my
earlobe.
    His tongue dipped into my ear and the entire left side of my
body tingled. Goose bumps prickled. Heat crashed through my body.
    “Not now.” Being cruel, he flicked his tongue down the side
of my neck. I squirmed beneath him, lifted my legs to wrap them around his
waist. A pounding heat was gathering down there. I needed him to make it go
away.
    He whispered against my skin, “We’re being rude to our
guest.”
    “Guest?”
    “You saw him when we first arrived.”
    “Mmmm.” I remembered seeing the man, of course. But I wasn’t
particularly interested in talking about him. No. I was much more interested in
getting my clothes off and Shane’s clothes off. It was hot. I was hot. I was
burning up.
    Letting go of his neck, I let my hands go exploring. This
was a rare treat. Shane had bound my hands every time we’d had sex. Thus, I’d
spent very little time touching him, stroking him, exploring all those
delicious ridges cutting between his thick corded muscles.
    Shane bit me, right in the crook of the neck, and I yelped
as I angled my head to give him better access to that spot. Pain. Pleasure.
They were one and the same to me. They both made me hotter. Tighter. More
desperate for release.
    But instead of biting me again, Shane extricated himself
from my clinging grasp and straightened up. “Later. Our meal is getting cold.”
He went to the closet and opened the door. My clothes were all hanging neatly.
He selected an ankle-length maxi dress he’d sent me and laid it out on the bed.
“You have five minutes. Only five.”
    And he left, shutting the door behind him.
    Suffering, thanks to his magical kisses, I scowled at the
closed door then hurried to the bathroom to freshen up. Five minutes. There was
no time to waste. Not if I didn’t want to be punished.
    Then again, I hadn’t been punished in a while…
    * * * * *
    Exactly five minutes later, I was in the living room,
searching for Shane. Voices, both male, drifted in through the open doors,
carried by a sea-scented breeze. Barefoot, the tiles underfoot cool to the
touch, I followed the sound. They were standing close to the stairs, both
holding glasses. The stranger was shirtless, a pair of swim trunks hanging from
his narrow hips. His body was muscular, lean, his dark hair ruffled by the
wind. Shane was still in his white dress shirt and pants. The brisk wind was
sending his untied silk tie flailing from his collar. He looked a little stiff,
I noticed as I came closer. His expression a little sharp. It was the stranger
who noticed me approaching first. He was facing the house. Shane’s back was to
me.
    The stranger’s gaze flicked to me and Shane did a one eighty
and cranked on the smile. But I couldn’t help noticing the wattage wasn’t at
one hundred percent.
    Was there a problem?
    Shane held a hand out to me, and I placed my hand in his the
moment I was close enough to reach it. “This is Bristol,” he said, introducing
me first. “Bristol, this is Jordan. He’s an old and dear friend.”
    “Bristol.” Jordan, the old and dear friend, offered a hand.
    “It’s nice meeting you.” I shook it and quickly placed my
hand back in Shane’s.
    Shane’s grip was hard. Not painful but almost. I sensed he
was smiling on the outside but fuming on the inside.
    Were they not dear old friends? If not, why wouldn’t he just
tell his friend to leave?
    Shane gave me an assessing up and down. “You look lovely.
Shall we?”
    “Thanks.” Feeling a little awkward, I let him escort me to
the table set for three. I waited for him to pull out my chair then push it in.
Neither man sat until I had.
    Wasn’t this cozy? Me with two men. Gorgeous men. Men who
were eyeballing each other like two junkyard dogs that were ready to tear each
other to pieces.
    I’d never seen Shane behave this way before. It made me feel
a little uncomfortable. Correction, it made me very uncomfortable.
    “Bristol, how was your flight?”