Free Lucia Jordan's Four Series Collection: Chosen, Whipped, Lick, Risk by Lucia Jordan Page B

pet. Breathe for me. Nice and slow. Think of this as strapping into a high intensity ride.”
    Reaching up, he brought her hands down, her wrists beside her raised hips. He snapped one to the short chain dangling from the thigh cuff. She cried out and struggled. His hands held her firmly. “Safe word, Karyn.”
    Her eyes were wide, the blue so pale, he could see her fear. “Red,” she gasped.
    “Good girl. He slid a hand up over her belly to caress her breast. “As I said, now we can talk about your fear. I’m not going to do anything you don’t want. Remember, this lesson is about trust. I want you helpless while I bring you to the brink over and over.”
    “God, why?” Her voice was a high squeak.
    “Everything you feel and experience while helpless will be magnified, including your orgasms. Trust me on this, pet. I’m an experienced Dom and it’s my job to know what will bring pleasure to a woman and to learn what each woman needs and wants.”
    He rolled her nipple. His palm felt the pounding of her heart and he listened to her short, harsh inhales and exhales as she fought panic. “This is my way of learning about you, what you can handle, what you can take, and what you want. This is a way for you to experience new things and discover more about what you want. And even need.”
    “What if I need control?”
    He tweaked her nipple. “I’m the Dom,” he said simply. “There might be times when I allow you to top me—take charge—but not today.”
    “I’m not sure I like you very much right now, Mr. DeMitri.” The fear in her voice shifted to sulk.
    Gio waited a beat. Two. Then asked, “What color are you at, Karyn?”
    Taryn focused only on his gorgeous eyes, those melted dark, chocolate eyes. For once, his yummy, hunky body didn’t come into play. She had eyes only for his face, and his steady, warm gaze as he waited patiently for her decision.
    The fact that he kept his touch only lightly sensual, not attempting to overwhelm her body to gain her compliance, reassured her. As did the fact that he showed no impatience or displeasure in his demeanor and he didn’t resort to begging or putting her down. It was her choice. “Yellow.”
    “I’m proud of you, Miss Jones. When you’re ready, slide your free arm into position for me.”
    Drawing in a deep breath, she slid her arm down over the bedspread until her fingers brushed her foot. She closed her eyes and waited.
    “Color?”
    “Green.” She breathed. Her gut clutched when she felt him snap her wrist to her thigh. She didn’t move, didn’t want to feel that well of panic at being helpless. She knew without trying she couldn’t couldn’t buck or fight at all. Still, she kept silent, didn’t move.
    “Very good, pet.”
    He leaned over her. She tasted his breath and the warmth of his lips as he kissed her gently, his hands framing her face. She focused on the feel of him, the taste of him, and the way he deepened the kiss until it was all she could think about.
    His tongue plundered and swept over every inch of her mouth and, when he retreated, she followed and cried out as he sucked her tongue hard and deep. Need flowed from their mated mouths to her throbbing center. His hands swept over her breasts, teasing and pinching her nipples, sending jolts of electrical pulses deep beneath her clit.
    She moaned in protest when he rose, then bit her lip when he slipped something over her eyes.
    “Feel. I want you to just feel, pet.” He kissed her again.
    Being blinded should have tossed her back out of her comfort zone, but now that her body was on fire, she wasn’t willing to halt the play. In fact, she found she very much wanted to experience whatever he had planned. There was a bit of excitement in knowing she couldn’t do anything, had no choice but to lie there and take whatever he planned.
    “Color?”
    “Green,” she whispered, her voice thick with need.
    “Good girl.” He left the bed. She followed him with her ears and her