What other instruments of torture and pleasure did he keep in there?
The top drawer slid open. Her gaze ran over several boxes and implements, some of which made her heat with excitement, some of which puzzled her. There was an unopened box that appeared to hold several rubber plugs, the larger sizes making her eyes go wide. There was a long, slender, mechanized dildo that made her frown. It hardly compared to Lucien’s gorgeous cock. She picked up a short-handled, highly polished wooden paddle and felt heat rush through her sex. Why did she get so excited over the idea of Lucien using it on her bottom? She opened a lovely velvet box and stared at an assortment of chains with clips and tweezers at the ends. Her nipples tightened. Without thinking, her hand flew upward and she pinched lightly at a crest to staunch the sharp ache.
She’d never used nipple clamps, but she knew what they were. Something about the delicate beauty of the jewelry-like ones in Lucien’s possession aroused her. They were nothing like the heavy, brutish, sadistic things she’d imagined when she’d heard about them. She flicked one of the gold ones experimentally, wondering what they would look like on her nipples, aroused as she considered Lucien’s expression at seeing them on her, fascinated by whether or not she could endure the tiny clamps. . . .
She pinched harder at her nipple, the mixture of pain and pleasure bringing her out of her fantasy. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table and replaced the box before she rushed into the bathroom to prepare for bed.
Lucien had told her eleven thirty, and she wanted to follow his instructions precisely. She thought of the thrill of the little vibrator and hurried through her bedtime routine hastily.
She wanted to follow his instructions very much.
At precisely eleven thirty, Elise was naked and lying on top of the comforter, her thighs spread and the vibrator strapped to her finger. She pressed the little bullet between her labia and sunk into the pillows, sighing with pleasure. Why had she never bought one of these little gems before? She rotated her hips, getting better pressure on her clit. Oh, it was divine.
She recalled how Lucien had taken her so completely that night in the stables, riding her so masterfully, his big, pulsing cock pounding into her flesh, his hands holding her immobile while he took his pleasure in her flesh, his bold possession making her scream.
Oh yes. It’d been so hot, so glorious to hold him inside her, to hear his grunts of primal satisfaction, to feel his balls slapping against her with each thrust . . . so delicious, to know she was pleasing him so well.
She gritted her teeth and writhed against the precise pulsations of the vibrator. Oh how she missed him. She couldn’t wait to have him fuck her that way again, to have him take her any way he pleased, to submit to him while he abandoned himself to erupting lust. . . .
Discipline, ma chère.
She gasped raggedly. Her hand thumped on the mattress, the vibrator continuing to buzz on her finger, teasing her . . . taunting her. She panted, trying her best to ignore the acute ache at her pussy. Gritting her jaw together tight, she ran her open hand over her heaving belly and cupped a breast. Her hips twisted on the mattress as she pinched a nipple. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough.
Her clit simmered, begging to be touched.
She wanted the vibrator. She needed Lucien.
“You devil,” she muttered, perfectly seeing the glint in Lucien’s gray eyes, his small, sexy smile in her imagination. She writhed in discomfort and arousal . . . burning . . . straining to ignite. Slowly, some of the unbearable tension started to dissipate from her muscles.
Now, again.
The warm, hard vibrator was back, pulsing her clit at Lucien’s imagined permission. She whimpered with pleasure. This little thing could get a girl into real trouble, Elise thought dazedly as ecstasy swamped her and she burned in bliss. She was going to come.
No, ma fifille. You don’t have my permission yet.
She growled in acute frustration and slammed her hand onto the mattress. For a few seconds, she just lay there panting shallowly, her body coiled tight, every muscle straining, her nerves shouting in protest. She waited for her flesh to cool. She prayed for it.
Breathe through it, Elise. You are so lovely when you show control. You may come very soon, I promise. Endure just a moment more. Don’t give up. I’m with you.
“No, you’re not,” she grated out in supreme frustration. She was alone. And she was missing him. And he was thousands of miles away.
He would never know.
Within seconds she was shaking in climax, moaning, drowning in forbidden pleasure, her hips gyrating against her hand and the vibrator.
She sunk into the mattress moments later, her flesh deliciously limp and satiated following her explosive orgasm. It’d felt so good. So decadent.
You’ve been the very embodiment of self-indulgence.
Her eyelids flew open. This time, Lucien’s voice hadn’t been a product of her imagination, but a memory of something he’d once told her. Guilt and regret slinked into her awareness. She should have done better. She could have, but she’d chosen not to, feeling sorry for herself because Lucien was gone and not with her.
Her phone began to ring. She sat up, startled. She stared at the device on the bedside table, seeing the number on the screen. Panic flickered through her.
No. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t possibly know that she’d failed.
“Hello?” she asked shakily.
“Are you all tucked into bed?”
She shivered at the sound of his low voice tickling in her ear.
“Yes,” she said too matter-of-factly. “And what of you? How did things go with the police?”