The Bride (The Boss 3)

“If you enjoy anticipation, then you’ll very much enjoy this game.” He slid the cards from their box and shuffled them between his big hands. He waited until I was completely naked and sitting primly on the edge of the table, then he said, “Slide back, bring your knees up, and spread them. If you’d put your heels on the corners of the table, that would be ideal.”

“But then I’ll be wide open, Sir,” I teased, slowly pushing back and lifting my feet up to rest where he’d indicated. There was such a naughty thrill at being completely naked in a situation where people normally weren’t naked. I mean, I’d never seen anyone so exposed on an intercontinental flight before. Maybe I’d been on the wrong planes.

“While I explain the rules, I’d like you to stroke your clitoris. One finger only, no penetration,” he added sternly.

I slipped my middle finger into my mouth and held his gaze as I sucked it down to the knuckle. When I pulled it out, it shined with my saliva, and I reached between my legs to do as he’d instructed.

He pulled a card from the deck and held it up. It was a seven of clubs. “Clubs, denial.”

I took a shaky breath. We’d played games with my orgasms before. It was the best—and worst—activity.

He plucked another card from the center of the deck, glanced at it, put it back, and pulled another. Ace of spades. “Spades, ruined.”

Ruined orgasms were the worst. But they made every one that came after them so much more intense, because it took longer to get there.

“Sir?” I asked. “Do the number values on the cards have any bearing, or are we just going by the suits?”

He considered a moment. “Which would you prefer?”

I thought about how frustrating a ten of spades would be, and decided, “Let’s just go with the suits.”

“Numbers for another time, perhaps?” he suggested with a lascivious smirk. He pulled another card. “Diamonds—”

“Mean I can come?” The hot flush of arousal that pulsed between my legs intensified at the word.

“Mean I get to decide the action.” He stepped between my legs and traced the edge of the card from my ankle to my knee. “I’ll give you a command, and you’ll obey.”

“That sounds like just another day at the office,” I challenged him.

He moved the edge of the card down the slope of my thigh, over my hip and stomach, between my breasts, up to my throat. He dropped the card and gripped my jaw, the rough touch sending darts of desire through me. “Do you want a spanking?”

I lifted my leg and rubbed my toes across the front of his jeans. “Always.”

He grinned down at me and leaned in for a languid kiss. I savored his mouth on mine, darted my tongue along his lower lip. His beard pricked my chin, and I rubbed my cheek against his. He released my face and sank his fingers into the hair at my nape. I rolled my clit in slow circles while he kissed me, the shocks of desire there echoed by the delicious tingling in my lips and tongue. My leg caught between us as he pressed me down. When he pulled back, I flexed my foot, feeling the thickness of his erection through his jeans.

With a maddening half-smile, he picked the cards up again and shuffled them, then withdrew one. “Hearts mean you’re allowed to orgasm. Do you understand the rules of the game?”

I nodded, my breathing increasing in tempo to match my rising desire. “I understand, Sir.”

He put the cards down on the table between my legs and drew one from the top. A heart.

I thought he would be disappointed that his game had so quickly rewarded me. If he was, I saw no sign of it as he brushed my hand away from my mound and spread my labia to expose my engorged, throbbing clit. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger, and dropped to his knees to give me a slow lick.

I groaned and leaned on my elbows, letting my head fall back. My hair hung loose, brushing my shoulders, and I sighed happily as Neil’s lips closed over me. He alternated rolling my clit between his fingers and lapping and sucking at it with his tongue. I squirmed against his mouth. After a year together, he knew everywhere I needed to be touched. He could get me off almost as fast as I could get myself off, which made sense, since he’d studied me doing it enough. I whimpered at the intensity that built without faltering, and, mindful that we weren’t alone on the plane, I breathed deeply through my nose to keep from moaning.

His facial hair chafed my thighs and labia in the best possible way. He slipped a finger into me, and I clutched on him, rocking my hips against his face. He found my g-spot like he’d grown up in the neighborhood, and my hands curled on the polished wood tabletop. My calves cramped and my knees hugged his head. I managed to subdue myself to a low groan as I climaxed.

He withdrew his finger, but kept the other hand busy on my over stimulated clit as I panted and tried to wriggle away. He took another card and held it up, and my brain registered that it was a spade even as I climbed toward a second orgasm, one I would be cruelly denied at the last possible second. Neil had ruining an orgasm down to a science. My pussy clenched, the sharp edge of pleasure twisting tighter and tighter, and just when I thought I would come, just when I desperately wanted it, he pulled his hand away.

“No, don’t!” I begged, but I didn’t say “red,” the word I used when I really wanted to stop, so he didn’t give in.

He laughed low and said, “Oh, Sophie. Begging for mercy? Have we met?”

I ground my teeth together as he reached between my legs and rubbed me with the tips of his fingers; it was like I’d already had an orgasm, though I hadn’t felt it. “When are you going to draw another fucking card?”

That earned me a quick, sharp slap to my vulva, and I hissed at the pain.