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Excerpt
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Pearl At The Gate
Published by Samhain Publishing (link http://samhainpublishing.com)
Publication date: June 24, 2008
Buy link:
https://www.mybookstoreandmore.com/shop/product.da/the-pearl-at-the-gate
“What are these for?”
Roake couldn’t answer Jenesta’s soft question. Leaning back against the
desk, his entire body shook with reaction, arms trembling so much he
wondered if they would continue to hold him up.
She had taken his cock in her mouth. Sucked and licked it until he shot his
seed into her throat. The memory of it, the residual effect of her
inexperienced yet breathtaking act vibrated inside, keeping his cock hard.
Roake felt lost in a trance. The distance from reality had widened with each
slap on Jenesta’s arse, each answering cry of ecstasy. The sensation of her
lips closing over his cock severed the connection completely. This must be
an elaborate fantasy concocted by his overwhelming desire for her, and he
never, ever, wanted to awaken.
Jenesta’s scent permeated the room, clung to his skin, a combination of a
light floral perfume and the musky, heady evidence of her lust. The heat
radiating from his body seemed to intensify the fragrance, heightening the
sense of urgency burning in his belly.
He
could barely open his eyes. She was still kneeling at his feet, looking up
at him, one of the straps held out in her hand. The leather lay across her
palm, a vignette of contrasts created to drive him to the edge of
madness—dark on light, firm on soft, decadence against innocence all but
lost.
And it was all his tonight.
How much longer before the dawn?
Strength flooded back to his body.
Roake straightened but still did not reply.
Jenesta allowed her eyes to slip lovingly over his body as she lowered her
lids. He was magnificent—all golden-hued skin and hard-roped muscles, the
erect flesh of his penis jutting dark and proud before him. Her palms
tingled to touch him again. The taste of his seed lingered at the back of
her throat. She revelled in the memory of his cock, like satin-sheathed iron
filling her mouth, Roake’s shout of bliss as his flesh expanded to shoot
searing come deep into her. His loss of control re-ignited passion that had
banked to a low shimmer after she found her own release.
Would she ever get enough of Roake? Could this desire ever be completely
slaked, no matter how many times they returned to the well of love?
Jenesta trembled at the thought, a dark premonition of loss snaking into her
soul.
Would he still desire her tomorrow, after he had time to think about what
she had done? When it occurred to him how she had behaved?
Tears welled in her eyes, but she forced them back.
Live tonight without barriers, without fear. Tomorrow will take care of
itself.
She raised her eyes to his again, held the piece of leather higher, and
repeated, “What are these for?”
“They are restraints.”
“Restraints?”
Roake nodded, gesturing to the piece of furniture he had uncovered earlier.
“Yes, for use with the discipline couch.”
Jenesta looked over her shoulder, understanding writhing to life in her
chest with the blistering force of a firestorm. What Roake called the
discipline couch appeared, at first glance, to be a narrow, malformed, cross
between a bench and a four-poster bed. One end of the padded bench was short
and flat, while the other side was much longer and sloped gently upward,
away from where the two sides met. The entire strange contraption was set in
an oversized framework of high uprights, with crosspieces holding them
together. At intervals along the wooden beams of the frame were a series of
hooks, some with lengths of chain attached.
Somehow she would be strapped to the couch, immobilized so she had no
recourse but to submit to whatever he desired.
For one wild moment she considered fleeing. The idea of totally
relinquishing her will to his thrilled and frightened at the same time. How
could she trust him in that way?
Yet who was she to consider trust now? Had she not betrayed his when she
opened the door to this room?
Jenesta sought his feelings in his eyes, but found no answer to the
questions flooding her mind. Whatever his thoughts, Roake held them deep
inside, masked behind a smoky gaze both penetrating and strangely distant.
Yet determination tightened his jaw.
Roake would have his way with her body, whether she would will it or no.
Jenesta surrendered to the desire quivering and flaming through her. Trust
could be earned or forever lost between them tonight, but she could not deny
him, or the raging need he aroused.
Leaning forward, she picked up the remaining straps from the floor and held
them out to him. Roake took them, his fingers lingering over hers, brushing
gently over her knuckles. Love for him overwhelmed her, careened through her
system with each beat of her unsteady heart. Then his hand slipped away and
Jenesta rose to her feet to turn and walk to the couch. |
