Saffina's Season by Flora Dain Read Free Book Online Page A

his own arousal, where deep in his clothes his cock burned for release. The sight of it straining, hungry for me, made me ache.
    “One more. But first we’ll wait for these to bloom.”
    He touched his lips to my forehead and my spilling tears, tasting gently. With a lazy smile he ran his thumb over my shaming leather gag and pushed me down to my knees.
    “Such a waste to imprison your mouth, my love. Fear not. I’ll free it soon then we’ll make full use of it, I promise.”
    At last he reached once more for the whip. I steeled myself for more of the same, clutching my aching breasts with new dread.
    “Six.”
    At the final flick of his wrist, I whimpered in fear as the lashes landed with a crash straight across, the new angle giving him full access, their rosy fullness now striped and aching.
    And as I blinked again, struggling for air, he swiftly removed the gag and unfastened himself. With a cold smile, he stepped up close. His cock loomed before my face, proud, hot and hard, its glossy skin a vivid reminder that this had been almost as punishing for him as for me. With trembling lips I leaned forward to salute it with a reverent kiss, knowing that this, of all things, sealed his pleasure nearly as much as what he now wanted me to do.
    “Lick it first. All along. I want it to slide in without a snag when you take it deeper.”
    His simple command, the husky note in his voice, both signs of his urgency, fused into a message of love. As I glanced up at his face, I saw sudden new warmth, fond and full of longing. As I licked and suckled, he ran a hand down the side of my face to feel along my neck.
    The tenderness in his fingertips almost sent me over the edge.
    “Now the crown. Suck for a while before you begin your stroke.”
    His soft commands directed my eager mouth and soothed my fears, at the same time fanning my flames. Still tearful but eager now, heady from my punishment, I drove myself onto his length, forcing my throat open to reach deeper and deeper along it as my punished breasts smarted and prickled against the fabric of his trousers. Somehow their tiny extra sting heightened things. When he finally stilled and came, his creamy essence trickled into my throat like a soothing balm.
    Inspired, I spat some onto my hand and wiped it over my hot breasts, trembling at the sudden coolness on my fiery skin. Now my globes glistened with his juices, the sting easing a little but another starting up as the tingling fired up anew, this time from his cream, as thick on my breasts as on my tongue.
    He looked on with delighted amusement.
    “Dash it, Saffina. You still surprise.” With a shout of laughter, he raised me to my feet, kissed my tormented breasts with his eager mouth and pulled me close. And when his mouth finally found mine, and our tongues lovingly mingled, I knew that once more we’d come back from some brink.
    But why was he so angry?
    What on earth does he think I’ve been doing?

Chapter Six
     
     
     
    We lingered over luncheon. After our morning encounter, I felt elated, like I always did after discipline. I chatted brightly, increasingly alarmed at Jacquard’s gloom but keen to find out his movements.
    “So, what will you do for the rest of this week, sir? Take some hits in the fencing rooms? Place a bet on the fight at Gentleman Jackson’s?”
    The second I said it, I bit back my tongue. His look turned instantly stormy.
    That’s it. He’s lost a wager.
    “I see no reason to share my weekly rota with you, if you refuse to share yours.”
    Oh no. This bit deep, clearly. As I finished my meal, I turned to lighter matters.
    “What of the opera this evening? Are we to go? Will everyone be there?”
    Soon he started to relax as my eager inquiries made him smile. I’d asked him before but never tired of him telling me.
    A visit to the opera was a long-promised high point of our stay in town. He’d assured me I’d find it dazzling.
    “And are we to visit Vauxhall, sir?”
    “Tomorrow,