Free The Dom's Dungeon by Cherise Sinclair

permission to speak.” He lifted his
hand from the juncture between her legs. “And you're not ready to be played
with down here…yet.” His fingers threaded through her hair, and he leaned
forward, tipping her back against the arm of the chair. Her gasp opened her
lips, but he didn't shove his tongue down her throat, didn't grab her breast.
    Why hadn't
he groped her down there? She'd sure given him the chance.
    Instead
his tongue traced over her lower lip in a teasing slide. Then
the upper. His mouth brushed against her cheek, her chin, her neck; his
lips were firm yet smooth. Not wet or sloppy at all.
    When he
returned to her mouth, he nibbled her lower lip, then sucked on it lightly. Slanting his mouth across hers, he kissed her, his tongue
only caressing her lips, no further. He moved down her neck with tiny nips and
licks and kisses. She shivered when he bit the muscle at the top of her
shoulder, holding it between his teeth long enough to send goose bumps down her
arms. Back up, ever so slowly, and this time when he took her lips, she opened
to him, letting her tongue fence with his.
    Never
sloppy. He was even so careful that she wanted to push him a little. Her
tongue slid into his mouth, and suddenly his hand fisted in her hair, holding
her in place as he ravaged her mouth, the controlled violence shocking.
    Exciting.
    When he
pulled back and licked over her lips, she took a deep breath. The air felt as
if the temperature in the building had been raised too high. Then coolness
wafted over her chest. She stiffened, looking down. Her bustier lay open,
lacing undone, her breasts exposed.
    Alex's arm
felt like iron under her back, and that hand still held her hair. Held her trapped. Without taking his eyes from hers, he
curved a big hand around her breast, his fingers hot against her skin. She
inhaled sharply at the unexpectedly erotic sensations shooting through her as
he caressed her. The surge of…of something inside her frightened her, and she
grasped his wrist and ripped her gaze from his.
    “Look at
me, MacKensie ,” he said, voice deepening. When her
eyes returned to his, he smiled slightly. “Good girl. Now let go of me, or I'll
restrain you.”
    “You
wouldn't.”
    But his
eyes didn't waver.
    He would . She forced her fingers to release his wrist.
“You promised. I'm not aroused,” she whispered. Fear curled inside her to join with
the unsettling tension, and an odd temptation to let him continue, to have his
hands…everywhere.
    “You told
Cynthia you'd take care of me,” he whispered back. “Can you tolerate another
ten minutes of being fondled?”
    She'd been
an idiot to offer herself instead of Cynthia, but he hadn't asked her to do
that. Her big mouth had run amok all by itself. Okay, ten minutes… What was
another person groping her anyway? At least she liked him as opposed to the others. She managed a short nod.
    When the
sun lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled, and his eyes heated, a trickle
of worry crept into her. What could he do in ten minutes with just his hands?
    She found
out exactly what he could do when his hand on her breast moved, and his fingers
circled one nipple, then the other, grazing over the bumpy areolae to the
jutting peaks. Peaks—her nipples were hard, and the room wasn't cold. Surely
she couldn't be aroused.
    His index
finger circled one nub, around and around, until that nipple actually ached. He
did the other, and the feeling was… His fingers closed on one rigid peak,
rolling it gently, then giving it a small pinch that
sent a stab of excitement through her body and seemed to awaken nerves in her
pussy. A throbbing in her groin joined the throbbing in her nipples.
    She
swallowed a moan as he alternated between her breasts, back and forth, pressing
the nipples hard, then harder, until each controlled pinch hurt and yet
increased the burning hunger inside her. A moan escaped her.
    Satisfaction
glimmered in his eyes before he tightened the arm under her back,