Page 16 of Caught By Menace

“You have extremely sensitive breasts,” he remarked. A light graze of his teeth against her supple flesh made her shiver. “So beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

She groaned when he pinched her nipple between his fingertips and concentrated all his oral efforts on the other one. Back arching, Naya surrendered to Menace’s tormenting fingers and mouth. She’d never experienced anything like this. Every nerve ending in her body burned. Down below, her clit pulsed almost painfully. She felt sure that if she reached down and touched the pink pearl, she’d come instantly.

When Menace suddenly moved, she protested with a whimper. “Where are you going?”

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmured and rubbed her lower belly. “I’m just grabbing something from this drawer.”

She followed his hand to the cabinets and drawers lining the wall. He tugged open the second drawer from the top of one cabinet and retrieved something shiny and metal. Swallowing hard, she stared at the object he displayed on his flattened palm. They were two bright-blue, tiny clips with black, padded tips hooked together on a chain. She’d never seen anything like it. “What is that?”

“They’re nipple clamps.”

Her gaze jumped to his face. “Excuse me?”

He laughed at her shocked expression. “They’re nipple clamps. They squeeze your nipples.”

“But—why?”

“It feels good.”

“For whom?’

“For you.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Says the man who isn’t having his breasts tortured by them.”

“There you go again with the torture claims.” Menace shook his head. “If I was torturing you, would I ask your permission?”

“Well…no.”

“Would you like to try them?”

“No.” The answer jumped from her lips. “Absolutely not.”

“Are you sure?” He didn’t seem the least bit daunted by her refusal. “You might really enjoy them.” He shrugged. “You might hate them. You won’t know until you try.”

She pursed her lips. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

He grinned mischievously. “No.”

Rolling her eyes, she sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll try them—but if they hurt, I’m taking them off immediately.”

“Fair enough.” Clamps in hand, Menace crawled over her on the couch and skimmed her neck with his lips. He didn’t go straight for her breasts but took his time licking and kissing andnibbling until she was burning hot again. As he played with her left nipple, he asked, “What’s your favorite color?’

The odd question threw her for a loop. “What?”

“Your favorite color,” he repeated. “What is it?”

“Blue. Why?”

“I’m going to give you a safeword. It’s the word you’ll say when you’re feeling overwhelmed or frightened or uncomfortable when we’re together. We can safely explore your boundaries that way.”

“Blue,” she repeated skeptically. “Why can’t I just say stop?”

“Because sometimes we say stop when we really meango.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever—oh!” She gasped when Menace applied the first clamp to her nipple. The sharp pinch of pain took her breath away. “Ow!”

He adjusted the pinching power of the clamp to a more tolerable level. “How’s that? Are we blue?”

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