The chair was in the middle of the small living room and the other furniture had been pushed to the side, isolating the chair, isolating me, in the empty center. I took my seat with my pulse already pounding between my legs.
It felt like a long time later but it was probably only ten minutes when I felt Sinclair’s presence behind me. He loomed over the back of the chair and I could tell his body was curled over mine, not protective and not threatening, just close enough to bear down on me with nothing but his presence.
“I bought you a gift, my siren. Would you like to open it?”
I was surprised, too aroused to immediately respond to the non sequitur. He chuckled as his hand appeared from around my back to offer me a large, flat, black velvet box. My fingers continued to shake as I took it from him and flipped open the lid.
My breath caught as I took in the large, blush pink pearls coiled within the satin. They gleamed dully in the low light shed from a lone lamp in the corner of the room but I knew they were expensive, utterly beautiful. They perfectly matched the pearl collar I wore at my throat.
“Sinclair,” I said, his name full of thanks.
He stayed behind me but leaned forward to pluck the strands from the case, lifting one long necklace and then another and finally, two more. They reminded me of the 1920s girls that dripped with pearls in Paris’s hottest jazz clubs.
“I love them.”
“Good,” he murmured, finally coming out from behind my chair.
He was still wearing his suit pants but they were unfastened, revealing the tantalizing trail of dark hair that lead down from his naval. I watched raptly as he crouched before me, his lean muscles undulating. Gently, he took my left hand and wove one strand of pearls around my wrist while he began to explain to me.
“Really, these are a gift for both of us. You are such a lady, Elle, when we are in public, in your feminine dresses and classy accessories. It’s fucking delicious,” he leaned forward to breathe against my lips as he wrapped the pearls and therefore my left wrist to the arm of the chair. “Do you know how hard it makes me to see you like that knowing that you’re mine? All that innocence and purity, mine to corrupt.”
I shivered as he bound the other wrist to the wooden arm. There was no room for me to move but the restraints, being delicate pearl necklaces, would be easily broken if I thrashed or pulled too hard.
Sinclair read my mind. “You’ll have to stay very still for me, can you do that?”
I swallowed hard. “What are you going to do to me?”
His eyes grew cold a second before his palm smacked loudly, though not painfully against my inner thigh as he spread them in order to bind my ankles to each chair leg. “Is that how you address me?”
“Sir.” I panted when he pressed his nose to the curls above my clit as his nimble fingers finished fastening me. “Sir, what are you going to do to me?”
“If you keep very still, I’m going to fuck this sweet pussy with my tongue until you come all over my face. And then, after I do it again, I’m going to make you lick yourself off my lips before I fuck your beautiful face.”
A soft sigh escaped me.
“Would you like that, Elle? Would you like to give me your sweet come?”
“Yes, please.”
I was devastated when he stepped away from me, straightening so that he could take me in, bound with pearls to the chair.
“Putain,” he swore harshly, his hand going to the hard ridge straining his pants.
My mouth dried up as I watched him stroke himself through his pants.
“Let me do that, please,” I offered, begging already and he hadn’t even really touched me.
“No.”
“Please,” I tried again after I saw his hips buck into his touch.
God, I wanted him in my hands, in my mouth, even just against my skin.
His face hardened. “I just told you what I had planned, Elle. This is the second time you have asked me to derail my plans. Would you rather have my cock than come on my tongue?”
“Yes,” I gasped immediately. “Please.”
He stared at me for a long minute and I was giddy at the thought of him giving in to my desires. I could already taste him on my tongue. His scent dazed me as he leaned over me, hands over my bound wrists so he could lean into me.
“Well, I do not want to give you my cock and it’s my choice, isn’t it? What happens to this body? I control that.”
A shudder violently seized my spine but I stared at him through it. “Yes, sir. Sorry.”