Page 18 of Hidden Heart

He pushed away from the wall and took her in his arms. His hands slid under her hair, his thumb caressing her jaw as he brought his lips to hers. She expected a passionate kiss, but he simply skimmed her lips with his own and pulled away. He grinned when she let out a low moan of dissatisfaction and frustration.

“Come to the living room.” He moved a stool from the corner to the open space near the couch. “Take your clothes off,” he instructed and left the room before she could argue.

Jessica stood staring at the stool for a moment, worried about what was about to happen. Other than a playful swat to her backside here and there, they hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary on their dates. What did he have planned? Maybe she should ask for more details before complying. It wasn’t like she hadn’t already been completely nude with him—his hands roaming her body.

Dammit. She needed to get out of her own head. She’d made up her mind to go on this journey of exploration, and she would see it through. Blocking out the racing concerns, she stripped out of her clothing.

When Royce returned, she stood behind the stool, arms crossed over her chest, and legs clenched.

He shook his head as he brought a small cloth bag to the coffee table. “Let me see you.” He stood over her. Although she was at least a head shorter than him, she didn’t feel petite.

She straightened up and dropped her arms to her sides, turning her gaze away from him. Standing in the middle of Michigan Avenue naked would have been more comfortable than having his stare fixated on her. The strangers on the Magnificent Mile would most likely ignore her. Royce gave the impression of a starved predator on the hunt.

“Sit on the stool.” He gave short commands, but his voice held a comforting softness.

Jessica slid onto the stool, keeping her hands folded in her lap and her feet on the lower bar of the stool. She watched him open the cloth bag and pour colored clothespins onto the table. She chewed the inside of her lip while watching him sort them into colored groups—green, blue, red, and white.

“Doing laundry?” he attempted to joke.

He grinned up at her from over his shoulder and continued with his work. Finally finished, he stood up and pulled a thick, black strip of fabric from the back pocket of his jeans.

“No laundry, but remind me later to tell you about what a friend did with his submissive and some clothespins when she kept forgetting to do the wash.”

He shifted the fabric from one hand to the other, and she shifted in her seat. “We are going to play a memory game. I’m going to place these clothespins on your breasts. When I do, I’ll tell you which color I’m using. Your job is to remember what color is where. Then I’ll ask you to tell me what color a particular pin is. If you remember right, pleasure will be yours. If you get it wrong, I’ll remove the pin in any manner I choose.” A sadistic grin twisted his lips.

“It’s going to hurt,” she stated the obvious.

“Yes, but only a little. My intention isn’t to injure you. It’s to play.” He ran his knuckles down the length of her nose.

The intimacy of the touch soothed her anxiety.

“You’ll see. The good and bad mix together, until you aren’t really sure where one stops and the other begins, and then it all just feels good.” His smile was reassuring.

“Okay.” She nodded and closed her eyes. He tied the fabric tightly behind her head, careful of her hair. Her breathing became deep and controlled. Every sound in the apartment amplified. The ticking of the clock on the wall echoed in the room.

“This one is blue.” He placed a soft kiss on the inside of her right breast and pinched the skin before placing the clothespin.

She sucked in a breath at its sudden grip.

“Good girl,” he whispered in her ear and reached for another pin. “This one is white.” He kissed the outside of her left breast, and again squeezed the skin and placed the pin.

She took a deep, calming breath.

“Not so bad, right?” He ran his hand over her hair.

“No, I guess not,” she answered. In truth, she’d expected her breasts to be in a fit of pain. It was surprising how gentle he was being and how, although the pressure of the pins was uncomfortable, she wasn’t in any serious pain. His words acted as a safety blanket, every encouraging word giving her the will to go on.

He continued to apply several more pins to her breasts. Each time kissing the spot before applying it. By the time he finished, an array of colors spread over both breasts.

“I should take a picture of you like this. You have no idea how hot this looks.” He spoke into her ear, a slow, deep voice that made her squirm in her seat. The game, his voice, and the sensations all mingled together, making her cunt slick with desire. “Spread your legs.” He dipped his fingers between her thighs.

She complied and was rewarded with his fingers stroking her. She couldn’t stop the moan from escaping as he continued to slowly pet her.

“You’re so wet already.” He kissed her ear. “But we still have to take these off.” She could almost hear the evil grin in his voice.

“There are so many.” She groaned.

“No more than you can handle,” he assured her. The squeezing of the pins intensified as he handled her breasts, lifting them up.

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