The Gift by Portia Da Costa Read Free Book Online Page A

could tell from his husky voice he was interested. More than interested.
    ‘Greg’s into a bit of the pervy stuff. I think it’s because he works at the Waverley. He and Kat play sex games. Bondage, spanking, little power trips, you know the sort of thing.’
    Jay laughed again, accelerated, that naughty smile playing around his stern mouth.
    ‘Indeed I do, Sandy. Indeed I do.’
    She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe. That sense of being caught in an electrical field increased in voltage, and she got the impression she didn’t even have to speak. He could taste her excitement like a killer snake sampling the air. As if he’d read her mind, his tongue flicked across his lower lip again.
    ‘So … bondage, spanking, power games? Have you tried any of those?’
    ‘No.’ Her voice shook on the word. Her throat felt dry.
    ‘Would you like to?’
    ‘I … I don’t know. Maybe.’
    ‘Oh, I think you do. I think you’ve already started.’ The car rounded a sweeping bend, hitting the perfect apex of the curve.
    ‘Allowing a man you don’t know to give you head in a hotel garden seems plenty kinky to me. Daring, at least.’
    Sensation trickled like quicksilver down her spine, and the place where his tongue had roved shimmered with excitement.
    ‘I didn’t intend to let that happen. It just did.’
    The tips of her fingers tingled. She wanted to do something. Touch something.
    ‘Indeed. But what about doing something intentionally? Something for me.’
    Blood began to surge faster through her body. She could feel it, and almost see it in her mind’s eye, pelting along her veins and vessels. Her head nodded, completely of its own volition and, even though Jay’s eyes were on the road ahead, she knew he’d seen it.
    ‘Touch your breast.’
    A sensation like vertigo gripped her. It was if she were on a merry-go-round, floating and rising in a wild unreal whirl. Her hand seemed disconnected from her arm but, as if by magic, it lifted, moved, and pushed her wrap aside. Returning to her breast, she cupped the slight weight of it. Her fingertips were hyper-sensitised and she could feel the texture of her flesh and skin, the pattern of the lace that covered it, and the slipperiness of the delicate silk of her dress. She daren’t press hard because just the faintest contact sent a tingle of excitement to her pussy.
    ‘That’s good,’ observed Jay blandly, still apparently totally focused on his driving. ‘But give me more. Caress yourself. Squeeze. Be a little rough. Play with your nipple.’
    I can’t! I can’t! It’s too much!
    But it wasn’t nearly enough, and she could do it. Because he’d told her to.
    She gasped out loud as she squeezed herself, caught unawares by the heavy lurch of arousal in the pit of her belly. Her nipple was so sensitive it was almost painful when she thumbed it, and the simple action brought a drench of silky fluid into her panties. Wetness. Nature’s welcome for the rampant potent male of the species. Jay Bentley.
    ‘More. Pinch yourself. Twist your nipple … Try a little pain with your pleasure, see if you like it.’
    Obeying him, she yelped out loud. But he was right. She did like it. At least her body did. Her pussy rippled deliciously, and the crotch of her knickers grew even more sopping.
    ‘Good?’
    ‘I don’t know! I don’t know!’ It came out as a wail, even as she shuffled in the deluxe seat of his Aston Martin, suddenly and completely his object, his slave.
    How had she come to this? She’d always tried not to be a sexual doormat, to do her own thing. But tonight she’d met a man who was a thousand times her match, and seemed to be able to use just a few words to render her his puppet.
    ‘Are you aroused? Do you want to come?’
    Sandy bit down on her lip, trying to resist him. Between her legs she was hot, and wet like a river. Of course she fucking well wanted to come! But somehow she also wanted to defy the soft raw words that could well lead to all