“You sure you’re up for this, baby?” Even as he asked her, giving her the choice, Savage’s long fingers caressed her breast and then found her nipple, tugging and rolling. She leaned into him, thrusting her breasts forward for his attention. He pinched. Hard. She gasped. He pushed the tank up, letting the dancing flames from the fire show him her skin. He loved her skin so much. He ran his palm over that soft, perfect canvas. Unmarred. Flawless. He could decorate it so beautifully.
His hand slipped to her face, cupped one side, his thumb sliding gently over that beloved mouth. Her lips. That tender expression of such love only she ever gave him. Only Seychelle ever felt for him. He kissed her. Gently. Trying to show her he loved her. Telling her she was his world, pouring that truth down her throat and into her body to give her the courage she would need to face the monster raging in him if she consented. When he lifted his head, he stared down into her eyes, letting her see the blue flames there, the dark, ugly flames that burned with need.
“Yes,” she said simply. “I came here for you, Savage, and you need me.”
“I’m not at my worst, but I do need you,” he admitted. “I’ve thought a lot about what we could do here without breaking our rules but still bleed off some of my needs.” He cupped the weight of her breasts in his palms, thumbs strumming her hard nipples, watching her shiver in response, watching her eyes darken to a deep blue of pure desire.
“I told you I would be willing to bend the rules if we needed to,” she whispered.
“I brought your jewelry, baby, the kind you hate to love.” He whispered it into her ear as he went back to playing with her nipples.
Her gaze jumped to his, and he found himself smiling. She loved nipple play, and she loved clamps. She didn’t like the clover clamps he sometimes used on her. Well, she did and she didn’t. That was one of those things she still couldn’t quite fathom, how it could hurt so good. She swallowed back a protest and leaned closer to him, as if for reassurance. He gave it to her, turning her around, one arm sliding around her ribs to lock her back to his chest. Her breasts jutted out, with the firelight playing over them; he continued the assault on her nipples, pulling and stretching, teasing them into tight buds.
“You like this, Seychelle? You’re already slick and hot for me, aren’t you?” He whispered the query into her ear as he tugged roughly.
She made a soft sound deep in her throat and then looked over her shoulder at him. “Yes, you know I like it.”
He waited, staring down into her eyes. He could see desire. Lust. He saw trepidation. Reluctance for what was coming. There was love. Soft. Tender. His.
She moistened her lips. “I’m always ready for you when you touch me, Savage.”
“And these really are your favorite clamps, aren’t they, baby?”
She hesitated.
“Your body doesn’t lie, Seychelle. You’re so slick you can barely keep from rubbing your thighs together, and I haven’t even put them on you yet.”
“I know, but …”
Already, the sadist in him was rising like the tide, that rush of domination, of power. He enjoyed the confusion on her face, the mixture of lust, desire to please him and trepidation. “Turn around for me.”
She took a deep breath and did so, turning to face him. He pulled her tank over her head and tossed it onto the picnic table before lowering his mouth to suckle her right breast. He kneaded her soft flesh as he sucked hard, using his tongue and teeth to elongate her nipple and ready her for the clamps. He took his time, watching her face as he brought the little clamp with pronounced bumps on the rubber surface up where she could see it.
He loved watching her expression. “Look at me, Seychelle,” he commanded. He wanted her looking into his eyes. She was tense. Any time he brought out the clover clamps, she was tense. He wanted her full attention on him at all times, not on the fact that they were outdoors and there were others around them, in the distance maybe, and they were guarded, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of others close by.
Her gaze jumped to his. There was pleading there. Resignation. She knew he wasn’t going to reconsider. There was also need. A dark, growing need in her he could see. Her breathing had already gone ragged.
“You have somethin’ to say?”
“I’m just nervous because there are people around us.”
“Can you see anyone here? No one is here, baby. I’m clampin’ your nipples because right now I’m in a fuckin’ foul mood and I need you to get me out of it. If you don’t, we’re going to be having a long session and you’re not going to be able to get up or go anywhere for a week or so.” He bent his head and kissed her. “You won’t be able to ride on the Harley home and we’ll be stuck in this fuckin’ place forever. Either that or I’m going to pick a fight with someone and kill them with my bare hands and go to prison for the rest of my life. I won’t look good in prison clothes, babe.”