“Wait!” she exclaimed, eyeing it mistrustfully. She could well remember how crazy the damn thing had driven her the day before. It had resulted in several embarrassing orgasms right in front of her boss and she wasn’t up for round two.
Roark frowned at her.
“Do you not want the ointment removed? I’m afraid it will be more than you can bear if I put on a second coat before I fit you with the nipple caps on and you’re unable to touch your nipples.”
“I do want it removed. I just…” Sammi bit her lip. “Isn’t there…another way? I don’t like that molecular wand thing.”
“The only other way is for me to suck your nipples until I get all of the ointment off,” Roark growled softly. He looked at her. “Is that what you want?”
“Well…” Sammi’s heart was suddenly pounding and her breath was coming short. “If…if you don’t mind,” she said at last.
His pale eyes were suddenly half-lidded.
“Do I mind sucking your ripe nipples? Of course not, Samantha. As long as you don’t feel taken advantage of, I’ll be happy to help you by removing the ointment that way.”
“Thank you,” Sammi breathed. Arching her back so that her full breasts, still encircled by the black leather straps of the harness were clearly visible, she looked at him. “Go ahead—I’m ready, Roark.”
“It would be my very great pleasure,” he murmured. “But first I need to take a baseline reading of your desire. I’ll want to be able to compare how the breast harness itself affected you, and then contrast the findings with how the rest of the prototypes affect your level of desire and sexual need.”
“All right,” Sammi whispered, nodding. “But how will you do it?”
“With this.” Roark pulled out another wand-like instrument with a bright red light at the end. “This will measure your natural lubrication and the strength of your inner muscles contracting around it while I remove the ointment.”
“So…you’re going to put that in me at the same time you’re sucking the bonding fruit ointment off my nipples?” Sammi asked, frowning.
“I was planning to. Why—is it a problem?” Roark raised an eyebrow.
“Well, it’s just that…” Sammi cleared her throat. “It seems to me you could almost, uh, gauge the factors you were talking about manually, without the use of a, uh, machine.”
Roark frowned at her.
“Are you implying that I should abandon my instrument and simply do this by hand instead?”
Sammi’s eyes flew to his long, strong fingers—he had what her mom had called “piano player’s hands,”—and felt her cheeks getting hot.
“God, yes!” she whispered and cleared her throat. “Uh, that is, I think it would be more accurate in a way. Because I won’t be, uh, as turned on by an instrument trying to measure my reactions, so you won’t get a true reading if you use it.”
Roark looked thoughtful.
“A very good point, Samantha. Very well, if you really don’t mind then I’ll use my fingers to gauge your responsiveness and wetness level.” He frowned. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to push up your skirt and take off your panties in order for me to reach you.”
“All right,” Sammi agreed at once. A little voice in the back of her head whispered that she shouldn’t be doing this but she decided she didn’t care.
Ignoring the voice, she pulled up her skirt and lifted her hips so Roark could slide the white lace panties she was wearing down her legs. Then she lay back against the raised top of the table, which had been lifted to make it almost like a chair, and spread her legs for the big Shadow Twin.
“I’m ready,” she whispered, looking up at him. “You can…can remove the ointment now, Roark.”
“Very well.” His voice was a low rumble and there was no disguising the desire in his gaze—not that he tried to, Sammi thought. His pale eyes were blazing as he leaned over to take one of her nipples in his mouth and slipped a hand between her thighs at the same time.
Eighteen
Sammi couldn’t help the moan that rose to her lips as Roark sucked her right nipple deep into his mouth and slid two long, strong fingers deep into her wet pussy. She gasped and bucked her hips up at his invasion as she thrust her nipple even deeper into his hot mouth. God, it felt so good! She couldn’t help writhing on the table as his fingers slid deeper and deeper into her.
Roark let her nipple slip from between his lips for a moment as he looked down into her eyes.
“Very good, Samantha,” he murmured. “You’re extremely wet and very responsive. Now, can you squeeze my fingers so I can feel the strength of your inner muscles?”
Obediently, Sammi squeezed hard, arching her back as she gave him what he wanted.
“Hmm…very nice indeed.” His pale eyes were still half-lidded and she knew he must be getting pleasure from this—it couldn’t all be cold, hard data to him—could it?