Sapphire by Jeffe Kennedy Page A

armpits. Her blood rushed up to her skin, to every spot he touched, rising like fire to the whiff of gasoline. She pushed herself into his hands, unthinking, longing for more.
    His hands closed over her straining breasts, rubbing and stimulating the already aroused tissues. He stroked her back, ribs, waist and belly while she undulated under his touch. His fingers lingered, tantalizing and slow, just over her sensitive mound, while his other hand stroked the round curve of her bottom, toying with the cleft there.
    The primal urge to spread her legs for him seized her and she groaned with it. Her hip bones strained as her muscles fought to open her up while the ties bound her closed. She turned away from his fierce study of her, pressing her face into her upraised arm, unable to fight the relentless torment.
    Kirliss slid a hand between her buttocks while he caressed the upper cleft of her sex.
    “Is this the punishment?” She gasped.
    He brushed her cheek with his lips. “There are many forms of punishment, yes.”
    Dividing the cleft of her ass from behind with one hand, Kirliss also dipped into her wet sex from the front.
    Taylor cried out and his mouth seized hers in a deep, penetrating kiss. Her hips bucked as his nimble fingers worked her. She fell into his rhythm, helplessly riding the wave. She gave herself over to it. Just as the night before, twenty-four hours and eons ago, her body rose to climax at his insistent touch.
    Except this time he stopped.
    Sobbing an inarticulate protest, Taylor followed his hand’s withdrawal with pumping hips.
    Kirliss clucked his tongue, nuzzling her cheek. One hand pressed soothingly on the small of her back while he stroked her swollen labia together with the other. Taylor shuddered into his embrace, leaning into him for comfort. Part of her noted the irony, since he’d caused her torment in the first place. But that part was a distant, quiet voice. Most of her screamed with wordless need.
    “What does the M stand for?” Kirliss asked softly, as if he’d never asked before.
    Taylor pulled back her head, meeting his intent gaze. He held her close, his bare chest brushing her nipple, his skin hot against hers while he stroked the slick lips of her sex.
    “It’s just a silly name I don’t like. It’s stupid.” She almost wished she’d just told him right off. It wasn’t as though the name meant anything, and now they had this whole charge around it, and when—if—she told him, he’d just laugh.
    Kirliss dipped his head and kissed her, soft and luscious, wrapping himself around her body, slipping his tongue into her. She opened to him, luxuriating in his taste.
    “It’s a measure of trust,” he said against her mouth. “I need you to trust me.”
    Taylor laughed. He had her tied up in his living room, stripped, helpless, lit up like a work of art, and he wanted her trust.
    “You laugh, but you don’t trust me, Taylor. Letting me do this to you is only the first gate.”
    With a startling thrust, he parted the lips of her sex again and pressed rough fingers into her. She cried out, her body convulsing. But it wasn’t enough. She ground herself against his hand, pleading. He slid his hand down her inner thigh, massaging the muscle, the ridge of his index finger barely brushing her sensitive and swollen sex.
    “Beg me,” he whispered. “Beg me to make you come.”
    “I won’t.” Taylor thrashed her head back and forth, aware that, even as she denied him, she clutched his hand between her thighs in desperate longing.
    “You will.” Kirliss wound the fingers of his other hand in her long trailing hair and pulled her head back, making her arch her neck. He licked up her throat and she moaned at the touch. “You just need a little more incentive.”
    He let go of her and stepped away, leaving her alone. Blearily, she raised her head while he dried his hands on a towel. His naked chest gleamed with sweat and he stared at her with feral hunger. Deliberately he