Lucinda Betts

I stepped warily into the room, as I might were she a tiger.

Her clothing—or lack of it—took my breath away. A chain of small gold links circled her tiny waist. The thinnest black strings served as panties, and these had large gold rings at each hipbone. More black string ran from the rings to another, nestled between her breasts. A brassiere pushed her full breasts together and up, but no cloth covered her soot black nipples. Her perfect calves were encased in heliotrope–colored boots with spiked heels the length of my hand.

By the Stars, never had I wanted to lose myself in every crevasse of a woman as I did right now. Her nipples, thrust as they were, begged to be sucked and nipped. Like my cock, they were rock hard. I knew the string running between her thighs would be soaking wet.

“Sokaris,” I said, holding my hand out to her, “Come here.”

“No fucking way. Get away from me.”

A woman tells me to leave, I leave. I began to turn, but the spell kicked in a little pressure. I had a part to play.

I stepped toward her, and she lunged away. “Fuck off, I said.”

“Don’t talk to me that way,” I said feinting to the right. She bolted right past me, giving me the best view of the string running over her ass. I wanted to run the length of it with my tongue.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you? You love to show off that ass.”

“What makes you think that?” she asked, turning slowly so that I had another great view. The height of her heels pushed her breasts out and her ass up. My mouth watered, and she knew it. Sokaris ran her fingers lingeringly over the back of her thigh, and then she pulled the string away from her clit, tracing its path with a fingertip.

“Come here. I’m too hard to chase you,” I said to her.

“That’s your problem.” Her lidded eyes were heated. “You want me, you have to catch me.”

I made another halfhearted lunge in her direction, which she easily sidestepped, even in those amazing boots.

“You don’t want me that badly, do you? You’re really not trying very hard.”

Desire made me clumsy. My mouth wanted to suck her. My fingers wanted to caress her, explore her. My cock wanted inside of her.

But I could only stare.

She was worth staring at as she ran her index finger over the string covering her swollen sex, up her ebony cheek.

Sokaris faced me and pretended to sulk. “You keep admiring my ass so much, my tits are going to feel left out.” She put a finger into her luscious mouth and sucked. I groaned. Then she traced an areola with that glistening finger, pebbling that nipple.

I had to have her.

I made a heroic dive at her as she turned to leap away. My fingertips caught the gold chain around her waist. I yanked it toward me and tossed her onto the ground. Starting at one hipbone I licked just under that belt, across her quivering stomach and across the next hipbone. Then, not too gently, I flipped her over and traced that tiny path across her lower back.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you in the doorway with that feather duster.” My fist was holding the small of her back to the floor, and my knees separated her thighs.

I saw then what should have been immediately obvious. Sokaris’s string—clad ass was in my face. Mouthwatering. My tongue found another path it wanted to taste. I buried my face, savoring her salty tang. Under my tongue her clit felt like liquid silk. She was swollen and wet—I know she loved it.

But she twisted out from under me. Despite her absurdly high heels, she leapt from my grasp.

“You’re going to be sorry you did that,” I growled. And then I stalked her, like a cat stalks a mouse. She was mine. I lashed out and caught her. She might have resisted but instead she molded herself against me, rubbing her tits against my bare chest like she’d never been trying to get away. I grabbed the hair on the back of her head, not painfully, but so she couldn’t escape again.

I brought her mouth to mine, but I didn’t kiss her—I devoured her. Sucking each of her full lips into my mouth, I ran my tongue over hers. She met my every move. Sokaris set me on fire.