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“Wait—” She started, trying to get herself released from his hold, more so because he made her feel so flustered whenever he touched her. “So you’re accepting the new terms?”
“Hold still.”
“What?”
He slipped his hand into her dress, and she nearly shot off the table when he cupped her naked breast, his thumb brushing her nipple, making it instantly hard. He then pushed aside the fabric, fully exposing her.
She crumbled at the sound of his deeply-inhaled breath. He did the same to her other breast. His attention set her ablaze, scattering her thoughts and leaving her with only the sensation of his touch.
He straightened, then slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a strange thing, which, on further scrutiny, looked like a fancy cuff link if anything.
And then he bent his head.
The wet heat of his mouth enshrouded her nipple. She squirmed, shuddered, and quivered as she closed her eyes. She couldn't possibly be falling apart because of this. She forced herself to say something, but her attempts turned out to be dismal.
He sucked on her, leaving her nipple glistening from his mouth and swollen, while her legs liquefied, and she felt herself drench her little panties.
She moaned incoherently when he brought the cufflink thing to her breast.
Except they werenotcufflinks.
“What... what are you doing?” She shrieked as he inserted her nipple into the jeweled object and began to turn a tiny screw.
A screw!
“I'm clamping your nipple, sweetheart.”
“Oh, my god. Oh, my god.”
A kaleidoscope of emotions rushed through her as he tightened the clamp. He kept his gaze on her as if he were carefully measuring her threshold but then pushing her beyond the point she set.
“What man carries nipple clamps in his pocket?” She cringed as she spoke, her breaths erratic and harsh as the clamp started to take complete hold on her. “No normal man,” she hissed, answering her own question. This wasn't funny anymore.
“Think of it as punishment for interrupting an especially important meeting this morning. I may still take my belt to your ass, depending on how the evening goes,” he said as if she weren’t sitting on the table with her breasts out while he clamped her nipples.
He tightened the awful device even more, and something completely uncalled for happened between her legs. She spasmed through the pool of wetness in her pussy and ached to part her thighs so he could put his fingers inside her. So he could put any part of him inside her.
“You're a sick...”
She didn’t know why she didn't rip the thing off, kick him in the balls, and flee. She had no idea why she continued sitting there on his dining room table while he administered the same delicious and darkly agonizing pleasure to her other nipple.
She didn’t know why she didn’t want to stop the strange, panicky, pain flooding her whole body.
“Fuck,” she breathed heavily when all her other senses failed her and she forgot what she was going to call him.
“You calling me a sick fuck?” he asked softly, joining the last lot of words she uttered to come up with that. He hauled her closer to the edge of the table, standing between her parted thighs. She gasped loudly at the rock-solid hardness of his cock pressing into her wetness.
“Let me try harder to impress you, then.” He searched his pocket again and retrieved a thin chain with a perfect diamond dangling down the middle of it. Some curious part of her wondered if the diamond was as real as it looked. The other yelled out anxiously because she had no idea what he was going to do with it.
The discomfort of the clamps at her nipples had stabilized somewhat until he hooked the chain to each clamp, and the added weight of the diamond against her midriff made her inhale so sharply she saw stars.
He then threaded his hand through her hair and forced the pin free, leaving her tresses to cascade over his hand. He pulled at her hair a little at the same time as he wrapped the chain around his other hand and yanked ever so slightly.
Kensley gulped down huge breaths, tearing up freely in a medley of fascination that she seemed to want to explore and frustration because that was not what she was supposed to want to do.
The sting on the roots of her hair as he pulled at her tresses and the tug on her nipples ventured beyond the scope of plain old-fashioned pain. A zillion pinpricks of sensation caressed her pussy. She was ridiculously close to rubbing herself against his hardness.
“Tell me, Kensley,” he prompted, his breath fanning the side of her throat. “How am I making you feel?”
