Wildes
that?” she asked demurely, as if she wasn’t half-nude at the dining room table, her flesh more potently delectable than any food he had ever tasted.
“Perfect,” he replied truthfully, spearing a piece of veal and placing it on her plate. “Fruit?”
“Yes, please.”
Lifting a pear, the sweet aroma heavy in his nostrils, the weight of it cool, Anton said, “Your breasts are so warm and ripe and delicious.
When I taste them, it is like eating ambrosia and sucking on your nipples better than the finest dessert. Here, my dear, this pear looks and smells delightful.”
His words had the desired effect for her body reacted immediately, her bared nipples darkening and growing very tight. As if to do him one better, she accepted the piece of fruit and brought it her mouth, taking a small bite and chewing delicately. A tiny bit of the juice filled the corner of her pink lips and he fought the need to reach across the table and lick it away.
Then she did it herself, her tongue languidly searching that intriguing spot, sliding along her full lower lip.
Experienced he might be, but it almost undid him.
Looking into her eyes, he said, “I have a feeling this might be the most wonderful, excruciating meal of my life. Are you certain you are hungry for food right now?”
“Ravenous,” Lara answered, her quivering breasts thrust up over her plate as she speared a piece of meat.”
“ Diable ,” Anton muttered and began to eat.
Anton’s bedroom was not as large as at the Hotel Roussel back in Paris, but the bed was just as wide, the hangings simple dark gray silk, the rug under her feet lush and patterned in an oriental style.
Lara’s heart had begun a slow, steady increase in rhythm, her
Incomparable
49
anticipation acute, the circuitous hint of something unique to come very intriguing. How much she enjoyed her own sexuality was a bit of a revelation, but if there was one thing about her virile French lover, it was his unabashed appetite for excess in bed. In the time since he’d coerced her into his arms, she had already had intercourse with him many times and he had never failed to bring her to the brink of ecstasy.
“So, lovely Lara, do you want to play a game? From the appearance of your absolutely breathtaking breasts, I would say you are ready for some relief, as am I.”
He was right. She ached, pulsing in both her tight nipples and between her legs. Dining with him half-naked had been both erotic and difficult. “What kind of game?” she asked, a little wary despite her need.
Anton looked amused, the bulge in his trousers belying the nonchalance of his pose as he stood next to her, gazing down into her face. “A game of submission. I will go first, if you wish, granting you every sexual command, obeying without pause. Then, when you have climaxed,”—his dark eyes were heavy and his lashes slightly lowered—, “it will be my turn. You will do whatever I say, no objections no matter the order. Whoever is in charge is most strictly so, agreed?”
She hesitated, since he had always assumed command during their erotic encounters, not certain she could bring herself to ask for what she wanted. In the back of her mind, she still tried to rationalize that she was there only because he forced her to be. If she requested he do certain things to her body, she was then as culpable, and as shamelessly depraved.
However, she needed him to make love to her immediately.
“I agree, but only if you are in charge first,” she said, lowering her lashes.
He touched her chin with a long finger, tilting her head up. “You will do my every bidding?” he asked. “On your word?”
50
Emma Wildes
His dark gaze was almost scalding, it was so intense. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Keep in mind I will do yours as well, once I am…finished.” He laughed lightly, his fingers sliding across her cheek. “Very well, I have no objection to beginning. Take off your dress, if it even can be
that?” she asked demurely, as if she wasn’t half-nude at the dining room table, her flesh more potently delectable than any food he had ever tasted.
“Perfect,” he replied truthfully, spearing a piece of veal and placing it on her plate. “Fruit?”
“Yes, please.”
Lifting a pear, the sweet aroma heavy in his nostrils, the weight of it cool, Anton said, “Your breasts are so warm and ripe and delicious.
When I taste them, it is like eating ambrosia and sucking on your nipples better than the finest dessert. Here, my dear, this pear looks and smells delightful.”
His words had the desired effect for her body reacted immediately, her bared nipples darkening and growing very tight. As if to do him one better, she accepted the piece of fruit and brought it her mouth, taking a small bite and chewing delicately. A tiny bit of the juice filled the corner of her pink lips and he fought the need to reach across the table and lick it away.
Then she did it herself, her tongue languidly searching that intriguing spot, sliding along her full lower lip.
Experienced he might be, but it almost undid him.
Looking into her eyes, he said, “I have a feeling this might be the most wonderful, excruciating meal of my life. Are you certain you are hungry for food right now?”
“Ravenous,” Lara answered, her quivering breasts thrust up over her plate as she speared a piece of meat.”
“ Diable ,” Anton muttered and began to eat.
Anton’s bedroom was not as large as at the Hotel Roussel back in Paris, but the bed was just as wide, the hangings simple dark gray silk, the rug under her feet lush and patterned in an oriental style.
Lara’s heart had begun a slow, steady increase in rhythm, her
Incomparable
49
anticipation acute, the circuitous hint of something unique to come very intriguing. How much she enjoyed her own sexuality was a bit of a revelation, but if there was one thing about her virile French lover, it was his unabashed appetite for excess in bed. In the time since he’d coerced her into his arms, she had already had intercourse with him many times and he had never failed to bring her to the brink of ecstasy.
“So, lovely Lara, do you want to play a game? From the appearance of your absolutely breathtaking breasts, I would say you are ready for some relief, as am I.”
He was right. She ached, pulsing in both her tight nipples and between her legs. Dining with him half-naked had been both erotic and difficult. “What kind of game?” she asked, a little wary despite her need.
Anton looked amused, the bulge in his trousers belying the nonchalance of his pose as he stood next to her, gazing down into her face. “A game of submission. I will go first, if you wish, granting you every sexual command, obeying without pause. Then, when you have climaxed,”—his dark eyes were heavy and his lashes slightly lowered—, “it will be my turn. You will do whatever I say, no objections no matter the order. Whoever is in charge is most strictly so, agreed?”
She hesitated, since he had always assumed command during their erotic encounters, not certain she could bring herself to ask for what she wanted. In the back of her mind, she still tried to rationalize that she was there only because he forced her to be. If she requested he do certain things to her body, she was then as culpable, and as shamelessly depraved.
However, she needed him to make love to her immediately.
“I agree, but only if you are in charge first,” she said, lowering her lashes.
He touched her chin with a long finger, tilting her head up. “You will do my every bidding?” he asked. “On your word?”
50
Emma Wildes
His dark gaze was almost scalding, it was so intense. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Keep in mind I will do yours as well, once I am…finished.” He laughed lightly, his fingers sliding across her cheek. “Very well, I have no objection to beginning. Take off your dress, if it even can be
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