By My Side by Michele Zurlo Read Free Book Online Page B

bench, but if it pleases you to use the cross, then I will submit there.” A hint of defiance hid just beneath the surface of her statement. He and Fuller were planning their next big project. She wasn’t going to let him miss his meeting.
     
    Two sharp knocks at the door arrested the sarcastic retort that came to mind at her pretty speech. As he crossed the room to retrieve the cart his chef’s assistant would have left in the hall, he silently breathed a sigh of thanks for the intervention. Accustomed to Marcella’s sharp-tongued sense of humor, he didn’t believe her submission. He would need to work on that.
     
    With the changed circumstances, he needed to adjust his thinking. If he didn’t trust her to be honest, how could he expect her to trust him? He returned to find her standing near the foot of the bed. Her demure posture and downcast gaze shimmered with grace. She had something to say. When Marcella had something to say, she didn’t mince words, not with him.
     
    He tensed. “What is it, slave?”
     
    She glanced up, startled perhaps by his terse tone. “Master, may I have a few minutes alone in the bathroom?”
     
    “Yes, of course.” When she moved safely out of sight, he let his shoulders relax.
     
    By the time she returned, he had arranged a chair next to the cart of food. Since he didn’t usually eat in the dungeon, he didn’t keep a dining table down there. They would improvise by using the cart.
     
    He hadn’t dressed. He sat in the chair naked. She came to kneel at his side. Head down, hands tucked demurely behind her back, knees spread, posture perfect. With his hungry gaze, he feasted on the beautiful sight in front of him.
     
    Finally he patted his thigh. “Come sit on my lap, pretty slave. You’ll feed us both.”
     
    Perhaps somewhere in the dom handbook, it stated he should be the one doing the feeding, controlling every bit of food that passed her lips, but Sean didn’t operate that way. He’d actually masturbated to fantasies of Marcella feeding him. Her long, tapered fingers with that delicate French manicure would touch his lips and his tongue as she placed the food in his mouth.
     
    “Use your fingers only.”
     
    She settled on his lap, her bare bottom pressing heat against his thigh. “Yes, Master.”
     
    He held her close with one arm circling her back. He crossed his other arm over her legs and rested it on her thigh. Her breasts swayed and jiggled as she cut the turkey sandwich into bite-size pieces. Next time he would have to request finger foods. The clamp had colored the deep rose of her nipple red. It called to him. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the tip. She twitched.
     
    “Does it hurt?”
     
    “A little, Master. But it feels good too.”
     
    He palmed her breast as she shifted, turning to him with a small square of food between her fingers. “Feed yourself first. I love watching you eat.”
     
    She paused. Her eyes widened the tiniest bit, but hunger trumped surprise. The square disappeared into her mouth. She grabbed another and offered it to him. He made sure to catch her fingertips, sucking them lightly as he accepted the food. Her eyes widened even more, and the fresh scent of her musky arousal reached his nose.
     
    They ate in silence, feeding more than their stomachs. By the time they’d cleared the plate of food, Sean’s erection rested against Marcella’s leg and her juices wet his thigh.
     
    “Straddle me.”
     
    He took his cock in hand as she stood and arranged her legs on either side of the chair. She gripped his shoulders for balance, and he held her hips because if he didn’t, he would go insane. Wordlessly she eased that velvet warmth down his cock.
     
    “Ride, Cella. We don’t have much time, and I want to see you come.”
     
    “Yes, Master.”
     
    She rose up and slammed down. Shocks of pleasure gathered at the base of his spine and tingled outward. He concentrated on the sensuous slide of her skin over his,