Free Five Golden Rings (Facets of Passion) by Jeffe Kennedy Page A

the counter. He positioned her in a narrower alcove, in front of the walled glass mirror. She looked surprisingly lean and brown in the reflection. The circular clamps held her nipples upthrust, glinting like primitive jewelry, and the gold clip on her clit showed through the damp curls at the vee of her thighs. Her face held a wild, sensuous expression, characteristic of her recent transformation from Type A CEO to...what? Sex slave wasn’t something she wanted to be, much as she loved the games they played.
    Miguel handed her the box and stood behind her, watching in the mirror while she opened it. She’d guessed this one then. A gold torque necklace encircled four smaller rings, bracelets and anklets. All were simple, polished metal bands, light and flexible, but clearly sturdy. To close, one end inserted in the other, forming a seamless circle. She sighed, for their beauty and for how deeply the symbolism both moved and frightened her.
    He smoothed his hands down her arms. “Yes?”
    “It’s not a gift, right?” For some reason, it seemed important to establish that. “Just for the game, just for this week.”
    A shadow crossed his face and he nodded, a bit curtly. His hands, though, remained gentle, trailing down to span her waist and brush over her hips. “For the next week, however, any time we’re together, you will wear them and you’ll think of me when they touch your skin. You’ll remember how you feel when I put my hands on you.” He urged her stance wider, pushing two fingers to scissor her clit. She shuddered and dropped her head back on his shoulder.
    “Yes,” she agreed. Meaning the acquiescence in every way. Just for this week.
    Without another word he took the box from her and knelt down. He fastened one gold loop around her ankle, the lock snicking closed. Then he edged her foot closer to the wall. A latched hook was inset, that closed easily over her anklet. She would not be able to tug away. He repeated the process with the other foot, so she stood splayed in the alcove doorway.
    Her hands followed suit, stretched up on either side of her head, elevating her ribcage and making her stand on raised arches, so that she panted for breath, her breasts seeming to swell with each inhalation. Her heart pounded at the sight of herself, bound and displayed like this. Miguel’s burning gaze only drove her further into the land outside the boundaries of her mind.
    When he locked the collar around her throat, she felt again like his captive, ready to do whatever he demanded.
    He poured some oil into his palm and slicked back her hair, making it darker and sleek against her skull. Working slowly, he coated her body in the oil, until her skin gleamed golden brown in the subtle lighting. She moved under his hands, not speaking. Transformed into someone else. A pet who only felt and responded.
    He hung heavy gold earrings with a Mayan look in her pierced ears and attached a golden chain to the collar, letting it dangle between her breasts, the loop handle brushing her navel. When he set the silver remote on the counter, she simply accepted the teasing vibrations of the bullet inside her, moving in an undulating dance.
    Miguel pulled out a leather strap, thinner than the belt had been, and began lightly stropping her with it, letting it land here and there on her skin, following the primal rhythms over her movements. It didn’t hurt so much as remind her of her helplessness. The way the strap kissed her, wrapping here around her thigh, there flicking the side of her breast, conspired to add a level of static to her thoughts. White noise that blurred them away.
    When Miguel stopped, set the strap on the counter and turned off the vibrator, she simply waited, beyond anticipation. He released her and took up her golden leash. She blinked at him, uncertain, and he kissed her, running a fond hand over her oiled hair.
    “Cocktail time.” He smiled.
    Walking with her and holding her leash, as naturally as he held