Steampunk Desires: An Erotic Romance (The Complete Collection) by Sophia Wilde Page A

eyes and rolled them. This was going to take some work, she realized. She thought of how to put her words nicely.
     
    “Slave, you don’t get pleasure from a lady by twisting her breasts,” she said gently. “I want you to do this: take your fingertips and gently rub my nipples with them.” She demonstrated a very light touch on the back of his hand with her fingers. He nodded, and although he was still rougher than she’d planned, the feeling was much better. And the authority to tell him what to do! That got her excited.
     
    “Mmm, that’s much better, slave,” she said. “Kiss me.”
     
    “Where?” he asked.
     
    “On the mouth, of course,” she said, laughing. He clumsily reached over and pressed his lips to hers, making a kissing motion. The effect was not at all stimulating. She gently lifted him off her with a touch to the shoulder. “Gentle, slave,” she said. “That is the word of the day. Say it with me, ‘gentle.’” She cued him with her hands.
     
    “Gentle, milady.”
     
    “Very good, slave. Now try again.” He kissed her again, this time, gently and tenderly. The sensation hit a nerve in her sex, and she sighed pleasantly.
     
    “You’re learning, slave,” she praised him, “but don’t stop stroking my nipples. Kiss me again.” It took effort, but he was able to remember to keep gently stroking her nipples as he kissed her. Her body writhed softly against the bed. He sensed her arousal. It turned him on. His eyes widened as he felt his dick begin to harden. He’d never been turned on like this before. It seemed so simple, yet it had been so out of reach before.
     
    “Slave, you’ve really got to keep your head in this,” Scarlett gently chided. Clarence had ceased both rubbing and kissing, but before he could recommence, she had a new task for him.
     
    “What’s today’s word, slave?” she asked.
     
    “Gentle, milady,” he recited.
     
    “Good, slave. Keeping that in mind, I want you to stroke my sex. Do you think you can do that?”
     
    Clarence nodded eagerly. He wanted to show her that he could be a good slave, and he reached down slowly and carefully and barely touched his hand to her labia. She smiled and fought back a chuckle.
     
    “You’ve learned well,” she said, “but you can go a little harder than that.” Clarence nodded and stroked harder. Her sex was hairless, warm, and moist. He liked what the moistness meant: it meant he was doing a good job. It meant that she was pleased with him. He wanted her to have more moistness.
     
    “Oh,” Scarlett moaned in spite of herself. “Very good, slave,” she said breathily. She stayed his hand with hers and caught her breath. “I want you to lick my flower,” she told him. “And remember…”
     
    “Gently, milady,” Clarence finished.
     
    “Yes, slave, that’s right.”
     
    Clarence climbed up onto the bed and knelt between her legs. His breathing was labored with excitement. His cock was raging-hard; he’d never been so turned on before, nor had he ever enjoyed himself like he was enjoying himself now. The warmth and moisture of her sex beckoned to him, and he followed the call, as mindless as a cult’s new recruit. His hot breath stimulated her, and she spread her legs subconsciously. The folds of her clitoral hood had begun to rise, like a tiny homing beacon for him to follow. It was there that his tongue made its first delicate contact, sending shivers coursing through her body. The taste was otherworldly; he had never given oral attention to a woman, preferring to get done as quickly as he could so that he could go back to his books. He had never realized how much he’d missed until now. He needed more of that taste, and his tongue greedily dove between the folds of skin in stark contrast to the gentle caress he’d just made. The variation made Scarlett grunt in surprise and pleasure.
     
    “Oh, slave, you’re a natural at this,” she said appreciatively, delighting in the