Page 205 of Entangled

Eden, on the other hand, looks fascinated.

Clamping a hand around her throat, I squeeze the sides very lightly, feeling her swallow. I push her up and backwards until she’s pressed against Beaumont’s chest.

“Now that’s a pretty necklace,” he says, kissing her cheek.

I brush a kiss across her lips, tasting her little gasp. “Make her another one.”

Beaumont replaces my hand at her throat, and his other hand begins working her needy little clit in practiced motions, easing off when her breaths start getting too gaspy.

It’s difficult to tear my eyes away, but while she’s distracted, I twine the tie at the front of her dress around my finger and pull it free. The front of her dress falls open, revealing her filmy white lace bra, and pretty as it is, I yank that down too. Her breasts spill brazenly over the underwire, and it props them up in profane ways.

I swallow hard. I touched her that first night, until she was writhing and wanton on Beaumont’s lap, but I can’t remember the last time before that I saw a naked woman. It’s been a very, very long time.

She’s unholy.

I bring my face close to hers and slide my hands over her breasts. Cupping them, testing their weight and softness, enjoying the hard pebbles her nipples make against my palms. She pants against my mouth, but she has the sense not to try and kiss me without permission.

She moans, and I’m not sure if it’s in response to what I’m doing, or what Beaumont is doing to her clit.

I wrap my fingers around one nipple, flicking it gently and watching her flinch.

“Hmm, very sensitive. That’s not good for you,” I murmur.

I pinch her cruelly, then tug her nipple down hard. She squeals, trying to escape, and Beaumont tightens his grip on her throat. It forces her back to arch and grinds her ass against him.

“Easy, now, pet. You let him do what he wants to you. We want to make new friends, remember?” Beaumont croons to her.

Her eyes are big and fill with licentious shock at his words.

“Color?” I ask sharply, my lust clamorous and demandingmore. If Beaumont’s been coaching her, he’s surely familiarized her with traffic lights.

She pauses just long enough to assure me she’s taking stock of herself, then bites her lip. “Green. I’m still green.”

I lean down and suck the nipple into my mouth as a reward for us both, and she cries out. She’s divine in my mouth, and I can see every inch of her squirming distress. I soothe my tongue over the abused flesh, waiting until her choked sounds rise in pitch, then I nip her hard, twisting her other nipple at the same time.

Eden yelps.

“That’s perfect, darlin’. You like how he hurts you, don’t you? Look how pretty you are when you cry,” Beaumont soothes as I make her suffer.

I swap sides, giving her other breast as much attention as the first. I nip all over her skin in a careful pattern, then give her slick, soothing kisses. Rewarding strokes. Kind and cruel in turn. It’s mild pain, but it’s a start. She’s responding to it.

Tome.

All the while, Beaumont works under her dress, touching her in ways that keep her pleasure stoked high, but never enough to bring her over.

I have to admire it. He is right, in many ways. It’s one thing to torture someone with pain, and it’s another kind entirely to torture them with pleasure. It’s a delicate, difficult edge to keep someone balanced on without losing them.

“Are you enjoying the show, Lucien?” I call back.

His laugh is hoarse and desperately edged. “Five stars. Ten. Instant classic.”

I smile.

Eden is too lost to join in his amusement. She arches and wriggles, but she has nowhere to go, and by the time I’m done biting and ravaging her soft skin, there are red flowers blooming all over her chest. Some of them will come up in gorgeous shades of blue and purple, others will quickly yellow. Her breasts will be a beautiful bouquet for days.

Her breaths are hitching now, on the verge of bigger tears than the ones that already track down her face. She’s poignantly aroused.

Iam murderously hard.

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