French Blue (11 page)

“Penny for your thoughts, madame?” Olivier murmured.

Lisa didn’t dare voice her real thoughts out loud. “I was only thinking…that it must be difficult to scandalise people now,” she said. “Everyone has seen everything before. We’re all virtually unshockable.”

“I don’t think so. Every man has his limits,” he replied.

“And every woman?”

He released her hand. “Shall we go? I think we need to continue this discussion at my apartment.”

A short time later, Olivier walked into the sitting room of the apartment, carrying two red boxes, one on top of the other. Lisa stood naked in the middle of the rug, her clothes neatly folded and placed on a stool, as he’d requested, with her panties on top.

“Is this a correction?” she asked. She didn’t want him to stop, but she wanted to know the parameters of their relationship.

He laid the boxes on the coffee table in front of her. “Do you need one?”

“I don’t think so… I haven’t displeased or disobeyed you.”

“Then it’s not a punishment. On the contrary, in fact, this is a reward—a sensual experience.”

Excitement tightened low in her belly.

He opened the lid of the box. “Turn around.”

A thrill of anticipation and apprehension shot through her as she heard him take something out of the box. But
what
?

“Put your hands together behind your back with your palms facing outwards,” he said.

So she was going to be restrained for this experience? Were the shackles to increase her pleasure or to prevent her from escaping? Or both? She was wet at the mere thought.

Instead of the expected snap of metal, a soft material she guessed was padded velvet was fastened around her wrist, and she heard the rasp of Velcro as Olivier tightened the cuffs. Her pulse beat against the velvet bonds, which were too snug for her to free her hands, but strangely comforting in their softness. She had a feeling that was where any notion of comfort ended as Olivier moved in front of her and opened the smaller of the red velvet boxes.

She was right. There was nothing comfortable about the objects he held between his fingertips.

“Beautiful, non?”

Words froze in her throat as the nipple clamps sparkled wickedly in the evening sunlight from the window. Sunrays glinted off the silver clamps and the multicoloured jewels suspended from the tiny silver chains. Lisa’s stomach swished and her nipples stiffened in anticipation of the sensations that awaited.

Olivier swung the clamp gently, and it made a faint tinkling sound. “I don’t need to explain what these are. Your face says it all.”

“Yes,
maître
.”

“Well?”

She gave a pert bob. “Why, thank you for the experience,
maître
.”

He winked. “That’s the right attitude. I’ll be back very soon.”

He laid one of the clamps on top of the box while he collected her clothes from the stool and took them into his room. Lisa was unable to tear her eyes away from the jewels sparkling in the sun shafts. They were very beautiful, and the silver clamps to which they were attached seemed tiny and innocuous. The thought of them capturing her aroused flesh in their tight embrace made her nipples harden even more. She tried an experimental tug on the handcuffs. It was impossible to move her hands at all. Her palms were locked together. There would be no escaping this experience even if she had wanted to, except by use of her safe word, and she had no intention of using it.

Olivier came back into the room. “Are you okay? You seem a little pale.”

“Apart from being handcuffed and about to have my nipples clamped? Yes, I’m just great.”

He laughed softly. “Good. Now we need to do some prep, because it’s very important that these are applied to fully erect nipples. Otherwise…” He winced.

“But I thought they were designed to hurt,
maître
?”

“To give erotic discomfort, yes, but also intense pleasure and so…”

Lisa tilted her head back and sighed as his mouth closed around her areola. He sucked on her right nipple, drawing it out, making it constrict even more. After he’d removed his mouth, he tugged the swollen tip with his fingers, twisting gently. She moaned, every nerve jumping as the prep went on and on. She squeezed her eyes shut, abandoning herself to the sensations, while he murmured French endearments to her, gently, teasing, disarming…

“Oh, fuck!”

The tinkling was followed by a pinch so intense, her head swam. Instinctively, she tried to wrench her hands apart, but they stayed locked together. Olivier held her shoulders, soothing. “Shh…
cherie
, breathe. It will ease, I promise.”

She let out the breath she hadn’t known she was holding and glanced down at her right breast. Her engorged nipple was trapped between the fierce little jaws of the clamp. She now knew the reason for the jewels and bells. They were weights designed to drag on the nipple and increase the tension.

Tears stung the back of her eyes. “I had no idea it would feel this intense.”

“No one ever does,” said Olivier, then his mouth descended on her other breast. She whimpered as his lips soothed and stimulated her, distracting her from the ache but not from the fact that in a minute or so, the second clamp would have to be applied.

She tried to surrender to the sensation of his tongue laving her free nipple, focusing on the feathery flicks of his tongue around her areola and the gentle tug as he drew the nipple between his teeth. One breast throbbed fiercely, the other ached with pleasure. The contrast between the two drove her insane.

He blew on her wet nipple and then stopped. “You’re magnificent,” he said. Lisa tensed, anticipating the nip of the clamp, but instead his hand moved lower, parted her labia and drew a finger through her wetness. Her sex rippled as every part of her was teased and tormented.

Olivier held up his moist forefinger and rubbed it over her bare nipple. “Your own juices…” he said. “But all good things must come to an end.”

The beast.
This time, he had let her know what was to come. The jewels glimmered and the bells tinkled as he held the other clamp in front of her eyes.

It was too much. The memory of the initial pain rushed back, and her clamped nipple throbbed as if to remind her.

“No!” She jerked away from his hand. The sudden movement made the weights swing, and her tender nipple throbbed wildly.

Olivier made no attempt to stop her, but his expression was concerned. “You can stop this if you want to. Do you?”

She gritted her teeth. “No. I just need a moment. Give me time.”

“It would be better if I do this now, while your nipples are still erect. I won’t do it at all if you’re not prepared. It’s much too painful.”

“And this isn’t?”

He touched her cheek. “Take a deep breath, embrace the sensation.”

“Embrace it? You’re not the one with jewellery hanging from your nipple.”

Olivier smiled. “No, and unfortunately I’m not in a position to try, am I? You’re the one with the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen. From the moment I saw your nipples trying to escape through that dress at the gallery launch, I’ve wanted to adorn them like this…to worship them.”

Wow.
Lisa stared at him. His eyes lit up as he looked at her like she was some kind of icon. And damn him, she actually believed him.

He crooked a finger. “Come here.”

Lisa sucked in a breath, let it out and took a step toward him, forcing her twitching, muscles to relax and remain still. She wanted the full experience, craved the twin sensations of pleasure and pain, but didn’t know why.

“Bravo, Lisa.” His voice was a low growl as he balanced her bare breast on his hand. He massaged her nipple, drawing it to its full length before picking up the clamp and positioning the open jaws either side of the red nub.

Lisa closed her eyes.
Any moment now.

Even though she knew what to expect and that initial pain would ease to a bearable pulse, she swore in shock as the jaws closed. Tears pricked her eyelids, and she stamped her foot, her hands butting helplessly against the cuffs. “I hate you,” she cried, trying to distil the sharp bite in her anger.

“I hate you,
maître
.” He lifted her chin. “I know you do, but they look so beautiful. I had them made especially for you by a friend of mine who used to work for Cartier. She is a real artist, and you have to admit they are exquisite.”

He gave a gentle pull on the jewelled chain, and Lisa’s eyes watered.

“I don’t care how exquisite they are, they throb like hell.”

“The sharpness should ease to a bearable discomfort that, I’m told, is both stimulating and satisfying.” He pointed at the clock. “You’ll wear them for a few more minutes, and I’ll try to take your mind off the ache in the meantime. Now, no more talking. I have other plans for your tongue—and mine.”

He checked his watch. Bloody hell, he was serious! “A few more minutes! You have to be joking!”

He stilled her lips with his finger. “Shh. Every word of protest from now on adds another minute to the time.”

“Can I at least lie down?” she asked as the jewels dragged on her breasts.

“No, I’m afraid not. The weights need to do their work for you to have the full experience. How are they now?”

“Sore, but easing a little, I suppose.”

“And?” Olivier gently tugged the other jewel, and Lisa almost collapsed from shock. The clamps made her nipples heavy and sore but also more sensitive than she could have imagined possible. Yet at the core of the pinch, there was another sensation, an aching need she wasn’t sure came from her tormented nipple or her mind.

He supported the weight of the jewel on his palm, relieving her temporarily. “Shall we try that again?”

“No. I mean yes. I don’t know.”

He tugged on the jewel anyway.

“Oh, help!”

As the pinch subsided, Olivier’s palm supported the left jewel. She understood fully now. The point of this was not simply the pleasure and pain but the domination in its purest form. Olivier held the power to give her relief or torment literally in his hand. He would push her to her limit and further, as long as she didn’t say her safe word. She yearned for relief but refused to give in. The power play between them electrified her.

“You think I’m heartless, don’t you? That I’m the cruel master,” he said, pulling on the other jewel. Lisa whimpered and involuntarily tried to jerk her wrists apart. “Yet you have no idea that I am your slave.”

He sank to his knees, his fingers cupping her buttocks, and kissed her damp pubis.

“So amazing…” he whispered and buried his face in the neat hair of her sex, inhaling deeply. “You smell incredible too. Earthy and sweet.” His fingers separated her lower lips, and his tongue flickered over her clitoris. “And you taste of eagerness.”

Lisa stiffened, arching her pelvis into his face. The sudden tension in her body made the clamps swing and the bells tinkle, waves of sensation rolling through her. Pain fought pleasure as Olivier closed his mouth around her clitoris and sucked before pulling back and blowing gently against the swollen bud. Cool air fanned her hot clit, and she moaned in delight.

She glanced down at his face.

“Wicked Lisa, and yet such a good student,” he said. “You are learning to love your lessons.”

He was right, damn him. She relished every touch, every word. Their play had moved to a new level. It was as if she’d earned this experience by submitting to the paddling; as if she’d come through a harsh but necessary initiation to this new and more refined pleasure. As she glanced down at him kneeling before her, devoted to her pleasure, she felt adored—almost as if she were a goddess. A goddess with very sore nipples, granted, but the power still made her dizzy. She swayed on her heels as the friction from his tongue pushed her to the edge of her climax. Who really had the power here? Him or her?

“Are you close,
cherie
?” Even his voice held reverence.

“Yes, oh yes.”

He stood. “It’s time to take them off. This may hurt.”

She squealed as Olivier removed the clamps and the blood raced into her starved nipples. The pain easily eclipsed the initial clamping, and tears poured down her cheeks. He undid the wrist restraints as her nipples screamed for mercy.

“
Cherie
, are you okay?”

Her reply was a whimper. Though the pain was already easing, her budding climax and the roller coaster of physical and emotional feelings had overwhelmed her. Olivier pulled her to him and licked her nipples. Even the butterfly flutter of his tongue over her puckered flesh hurt for a few seconds, but then his mouth began to work its soothing magic.

Without warning, he swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

Lisa didn’t protest this time. She had no fight left for a protest. Her body was limp and wrung out, yet at the same time she craved his cock inside her.

He laid her on the bed, stripped off his T-shirt and jeans and knelt between her legs.

“Now, please, now!” she begged.