Skye takes a sip, but her mood is still subdued.
Again, I don’t press. She eventually eats about half her food.
Dessert is served, and then George takes center stage.
“Thank you all for being here tonight,” he says. “I’m happy to report that we’ve surpassed our expected donations for the evening thanks to our generous benefactor, who has doubled all our receipts. Please give a hand to Boston’s own Braden Black.”
I stand to thunderous applause. I’ve learned to take the appreciation and applause gracefully and sit down after several seconds when it begins to wane.
George continues speaking, and I turn to Skye. “Time to go.”
“Now? While he’s talking?”
“Yes. Now. Before I tear that dress off you right here.”
Chapter Fifty
I insisted that Christopher take a rare night off and I ordered a limo.
“Where’s Christopher?” Skye asks when we’re secure in the limo.
“He has the night off.”
“Oh.”
“You didn’t really think I could wait until we got to my place to have you, did you?”
She gulps. “I…didn’t think about it.”
I move toward her, softly brush her straps off her shoulders, baring her breasts, and then give the chain between them a good yank.
She cries out.
“That’s right. I’ve been thinking about those nipple clamps all night, Skye. Every time I looked at you. Every time someone else looked at you.”
“No one looked at me,” she says.
“Not blatantly, no. They wouldn’t dare. But they looked, baby, and every time they did, I thought about what I’d do to you tonight in this limo. What I, and no one else, would be doing to you.”
“What are you going to do?” she asks.
I yank the chain again. “I’m going to drive you as wild as you’ve driven me all evening.” I crush my mouth to hers.
She opens instantly as I continue to pull on the chain in tandem with the thrusts of my tongue.
With one swift movement, I have her on my lap, her dress around her waist and her clamped nipples in full view. We kiss and we kiss and we kiss as the rhythm of my yanks on the chain becomes discordant and nonsensical. I’m enthralled. Intoxicated. Wild with passion as I tantalize her nipples. Finally, I pull my mouth away from hers, her lips swollen and parted just so.
“God, those tits.” I lift her skirt and rip her panties off her. Then, holding her to the side, I unbuckle my belt, slide my pants and boxer briefs over my hips, all with my one free hand. My cock juts out, hard. “Have to have you now.” I grip her hips and push her down onto my erection.
I’ve been aching all night for this—this homecoming, this joining of our bodies, this shoving of my cock into her heat. Every time
I looked at her—those lips parted, those nipples hard, those brown eyes so warm and intense. She sits on me, all pink and creamy, and just once—just this once—I’ll give her the control she craves.
“Ride me, Skye,” I say huskily.
She begins to fuck me hard and fast. I don’t care that the driver is right behind the wall. She doesn’t seem to care, either. She moans, gasps, cries out my name, all the while knowing the chauffeur can hear us.
My fingers never leave the chain between her breasts, and I pull on it in the same discordant way as she fucks me. Her nipples are sticking out farther than I’ve ever seen them, and they’re red from pinching.