A Taste of Sir (Doms of Decadence 6) - Page 65

“Sit still. Don’t worry about anyone else. All you need to concern yourself with is pleasing me.” He grabbed another cube of ice. “Spread your legs.”

She shook her head. Uh-uh, not happening. She didn’t know what he had planned for that ice, and she really didn’t want to know.

“Lacey, spread your legs now. Or when we get out to the car I’m going to have you lean the palms of your hands on the passenger seat, then I’ll raise that skirt of yours and spank your ass. And I won’t care who walks past.”

He wouldn’t. He was bluffing. She glanced up into his face, swallowing heavily as she saw the firm look on his face. Oh, hell, he meant every word. She was in so much trouble.

Knowing she didn’t have much choice, and strangely that seemed to turn her on more, she spread her legs.

“Good girl.” He looked down at the half-melted ice in his hand and shook his head, reaching for a napkin and wiping his hand dry. “You’ve melted the ice.”

She’d melted it? He was the one who had been holding onto it. But she didn’t say anything. Her mouth was too dry to speak as he tipped out another piece of ice onto his hand.

“Keep quiet,” he warned as he turned to her and drew her skirt up high. Oh, hell, this wasn’t going to be good.

He slid the piece of ice against her hot clit, and she almost screamed. At the last minute, she bit down on her lip, trying her best not to react. But the cold ice against her heated nub was almost too intense.

“Breathe, baby,” he whispered.

Okay, for him to say. She wasn’t pouring ice down his crotch. She’d like to see how he’d react to that. He slid the ice up and down her clit, and she felt her breath come in harsh pants.

Finally, it melted and she felt like she could breathe again. Then he reached for the glass again. Shit, now she knew why he’d ordered extra ice, and it wasn’t because he liked his club soda cold.

“Move your butt to the very edge of the seat,” he told her. “Then lean back.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” she muttered.

“I’m not kidding, baby. And unless you want that spanking in the parking lot later I suggest you do as you’re told.”

She slid into position, slumping against the back of the bench seat, watching as he tipped out another piece of ice into his hand. He moved his hand beneath the long table cloth. Thank God for the table cloths which hid what he was doing in case anyone happened to look their way. She guessed he’d chosen this restaurant because of the private booths and the table cloths. He ran the ice cube up and down the hot, slick lips of her pussy. She gasped at the coolness of the ice against her overheated folds.

“Gray, please,” she half-begged him.

“Please what?”

“I can’t stand much more.”

“Hmm, you are very, very wet.”

Oh, Lord, she couldn’t believe he just said that. And in public.

“Just as I thought, I think you like the idea that we could get caught. That someone might see me playing with your pretty pussy beneath this tablecloth. Might see the way you’re shaking and begging me for more.”

Was he kidding? She was terrified someone might see. Yet she couldn’t deny she was turned on as hell. She’d give anything if he’d just reach down and flick her clit, give her some relief from the overwhelming desire filling her.

“I don’t want someone to see,” she said quietly, looking around. No one was watching, were they?

“Maybe you don’t want them to see, but I think the idea of it turns you on, doesn’t it?” He twirled his finger around her swollen clit, and she whimpered. “When I said I was going to spank you in the parking lot, your breathing quickened, and you got this look on your face like you were imagining what that would be like.”

Oh, crap, was he right? Did she like the idea of being discovered? Jesus, what was wrong with her?

“Hey now, don’t shut me out. There’s nothing wrong with getting turned on by the idea of getting caught. In fact, it just makes everything that much more fun.”

He swirled a finger around her clit and her eyes closed as she felt herself growing closer to the edge. Then he pressed a finger against her clit. Hard. As though he wanted to halt the orgasm she was so close to achieving.

“Let me see if I can help you with this little problem you have,” he offered.

Little problem? She wouldn’t call being so hot she thought she might implode a little problem.

Tags: Laylah Roberts Doms of Decadence Erotic
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