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

her hand on the beach, Miguel led her out to the terrace. Torches had been set up around the pool and lit, their flames paling against the sunset. A table for two, also surrounded by blazing torches, sat at the rail, looking over the ocean where the sun lowered in slow magnificence. Miguel held her chair with perfect manners, dropping the leash so it once again dangled between her breasts.
    He’d arranged for sangria with fruit and the gold foil umbrellas. A platter of appetizers tempted her. They sat and watched the sun sink into the ocean, while the torches blazed into brighter light.
    When full night fell, Miguel took her leash and led her to a frame of poles that stood at one end of the torchlit pool. He attached her to it as he had before, displaying her like an exotic decoration. This time he strapped her harder. Time expanded. Or slowed. Became endless. He paused to strip off his shirt. She hung there, stretched so tightly she couldn’t move, while he moved around her barefooted in his linen slacks, sweat pouring down his chest.
    He worked the strap on every surface, even sending teasing licks to her breasts and spread sex, grinning when he made her cry out. They didn’t speak. They’d moved beyond words. When he dropped to his knees before her in a worshipful pose, she accepted his mouth on her as yet another sensation, rippling through her like water, like the torch heat on her body, like the sting of the lash.
    She knew better than to let herself come.
    By the time he lowered the frame, so she lay spread-eagled on her back, the tiles warm on her behind, she’d moved beyond the hope of orgasm. She only wanted him to keep taking from her. He stood over her, a dark silhouette against the leaping flames, fitting a condom over his cock and taking her in, in all her conquered glory.
    He crawled over her on all fours and delicately placed his teeth on her taut nipple. Knowing what would happen, she braced for it. Using only his teeth, he scraped the spiral clamp off her left nipple. She whimpered, thrashing her head. Then she held her breath when he sucked off the other. She screamed when the clit clamp released, then again when he scooped out the bullet and replaced it with his cock, convulsing helplessly around him, the immobility making it all that much more intense, the orgasm seizing her like a wild animal, its jaws rending her apart.
    Miguel covered her mouth with his, riding her bucking body, sweat slicking their skin, until they both collapsed.
    “I’m sorry.” She finally found the breath to say it. “I came without permission.”
    He chuckled, a dry, totally sated sound. “This one time, I believe I shall let it go. But only because I, too, lost my head in the moment and forgot that rule.”

December 30
Sixth Day of Christmas
Six Geese a’Laying
    Miguel, of course, had more meetings with the advent of Monday, so Tilda woke up with him. Not that she could help it, after the shrill ring of his phone jerked them from deep sleep. She felt a little guilty about whoever had to wash their oily sheets, but Miguel told her to leave it. He’d said it in a curt enough tone that she’d dropped the subject immediately.
    Her ardent lover of the weekend had already withdrawn behind a moody scowl and he swore at someone on the phone about some faxed documents. Thinking it the better part of valor, she slipped on her black dancing dress and discreetly made her exit, amused to find herself doing the walk of shame in last night’s party clothes. When she passed another woman who looked her over knowingly, she returned the smile.
    Oh yes. I got laid last night and it was beyond amazing.
    She didn’t mind a bit of a reprieve. Being around Miguel and living his resort lifestyle was like drinking expensive vodka—an extraordinary treat, but not something you could do all the time. Her body ached in every joint, her clit and nipples painfully sensitive to the touch, and little red marks and bruises spotted her