It’s already 84 degrees in the shade at 10 am. I try not to complain because here in western NY we don’t get all that much hot weather. So…to go with the heat, how about a hot excerpt from one of my favorite (yes, don’t tell my other stories LOL) erotic romances, Silken Canvas.
She stared out at the skyline, the sun glinting off all the windows facing her. “The next session? More pearls?”
She was startled when his hand brushed her shoulder and pulled back on the single strand of pearls still hanging around her neck. “I have many more plans for you.” She froze as the beads tightened around her throat, keenly anticipating the heavy pressure. Then she felt the pull, heard a popping sound and the rope of beads broke apart.
Ashley whirled around and stared at the broken strand of beads in Brendan’s hand. She grabbed it and pulled it apart again. “Pop beads? These are pop beads?”
“Handy,” he said with a grin.
She laughed. “They look so real. I mean, I knew they weren’t real pearls, but I never would have guessed they were pop beads.”
“Time to drop the robe again.” He drew the fabric off her shoulders and she quickly untied the sash so he could strip it from her body.
“How many strands do you think it will take to cover your long, slender neck?” he asked. “Hold up your hair.” She raised her arms and lifted her hair high on her head. Would she ever get over the thrill of feeling exposed and vulnerable in this position?
Brendan ran a heated gaze over her before he wrapped a single strand of beads around her neck, pulling off several pearls at a time, until he closed it around her throat. It rested loosely against her collar bone. “Too loose. That won’t work,” he murmured. He shook his head and took off another bead or two before securing it again.
“That’s a little tight,” Ashley said. The pearls pressed against her throat, right below her larynx.
He cupped her cheek and caught her gaze. It took everything in her not to lean into him. “Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Not too much.”
“Then we’ll leave it for now. Let me know if it gets too painful.” He wrapped another strand tightly around her neck, riding above the first one. “I want to cover your throat from collar bone to jaw, stacking one strand of beads on top of another. They have to be tight enough to stay in place and not hang down on the one below it, understand?”
“Yeah, I get it.” She kept her hair off her neck and stood straight with her chin raised and tried not to think about the graze of his fingers along her jaw, across her throat. Or the brush of his jean-covered erection against her bottom. Or the promise of some delightful pain in this session.
The next row of beads pressed so tightly against her larynx that she could feel the pressure when she swallowed. Her expression must have changed because Brendan stopped with his hand on her throat. “Is it too much?”
“Not at all.” She swallowed again, then felt her face grow warm as memories overwhelmed her. “It’s not much different than the collars you used to put on me.” Or red ribbons. Or greedy snakes. “I…um…I always liked it when you put the collars on really tight.”
His eyes darkened. “I know.” He gently stroked her throat above the beads. “I’ve always known you liked a little pain with your pleasure. I was always happy to give it to you.”
They’d never really talked before about the way they’d often straddled the line between pain and pleasure. About her need for pain and his answering need to furnish it. It had just gradually become a part of their lives.
“I always liked the way you looked with a collar around your neck.” He ran the strand of pearls he was holding between his fingers. “Especially the ones with an ‘O’ ring in the front, so I could pull you to me when I wanted to do this.”
His lips brushed over hers before she had a chance to prepare for the onslaught of sensations, the burst of emotion. But almost before it started, the kiss was over. He stared at her, his jaw clenched. The strand of pearls in his hands broke.
“Sorry,” he said. It was a few more minutes before he finished collaring her. The multiple strands of beads forced her head high and she couldn’t comfortably lower her chin. “You can let your hair down now.” She dropped her arms and rolled her shoulders a couple times to stretch out the muscles.
Brendan took her hand and led her back over to the black velvet backdrop. “Stand here. I’m going to take some head shots.” He picked up his camera. “No talking now. I want a calm and content expression.” He lifted the camera, blocking his face. “I always loved the way you looked lying in our bed first thing in the morning, your hair spread out on the pillow, gazing at me with a small smile on your face. Yeah, like that.”
No fair to keep reminding her of those good times. She’d always loved the way he’d looked first thing in the morning too, propped up on his elbow, looking down on her with his own small smile.
Brendan took a few more pictures, then stopped and dropped the camera to his side. “That Stuart was a jerk. I can’t believe you hooked up with someone like him.” She opened her mouth to snap a quick retort, but he lifted his hand to stop her. “No talking.” He took another picture.
“I like the way your eyes are flashing now. There are a lot of people who’ll love that look—that flash of temper while you’re collared. They don’t want to dampen that spirit.” He approached her slowly. He was using that seductive tone of voice again and it was working. “How much more exciting to leash that strength, to harness that fire.” He took a few close-ups, his body so close she could hear him breathing. Didn’t he have a zoom on that camera?
As he took more pictures, his scent wound around her. She wanted to close her eyes and inhale him into her lungs, draw him into her pores. But she left her eyes open and saw when he slowly lowered the camera to his side and his gaze moved to her lips. She nervously darted her tongue out, wetting her lips. The memory of that hint of a kiss was fresh in her mind. The urge to lean into him was almost too much to resist.
Brendan gently cupped her face and ran his thumb softly along her bottom lip. He raised his gaze to meet hers and she shivered.
He stepped away. “Where’s your lipstick?”
She held back a sigh. She shouldn’t be disappointed he didn’t kiss her. Shouldn’t expect him to. Shouldn’t want him to. “In the pocket of the robe.”
He nodded. “Stay there.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him pick up the robe and fish the lipstick and a hair clip out of the pocket. He set down the camera on top of the soft robe and turned to her, lipstick tube in one hand, hair clip in the other. His gaze scorched her as it ran over her body. He took a deep breath before he walked over to her.
“Hold this,” he said and gave her the lipstick. Then he leaned forward and gathered her hair in his hands. She closed her eyes as his fingers caressed her scalp. His warm chest brushed against her breasts and it made her shiver again. He played with her hair for a moment, dropping the strands and pulling them up again, clipping and unclipping and then clipping them up again until he was obviously satisfied with the way her curls looked piled on top of her head.
“You look so damn sexy,” he said with the charming voice again. He was driving her crazy, never knowing which Brendan was going to be talking to her next. Would it be the driven artist, who saw her as nothing but a piece of canvas? Or the seductive, commanding man who’d made her fall in love with him years ago?
“Give me the lipstick.”
Her fingers trembled slightly as she handed him the tube. She wet her lips again as their eyes held. She had to stay strong. Resist temptation. It should be easy. Except that he was so close, she could catch his unique scent. She could feel the heat from his body and from his breath along her cheek. She swallowed hard and felt the press of the beads against her throat.
Ashley parted her lips slightly and he slowly covered them with the deep red color. She closed her eyes. The smooth lipstick felt almost as erotic as the sweep of a tongue. A soft sigh escaped before she could pull it back.
Brendan took a step back and nodded. “Keep your lips parted like that. I like the way that looks.” He shoved the tube of lipstick into the pocket of his jeans and bent over to pick up the camera. She swallowed hard again as she took in the snug way his jeans cupped his butt, the graceful way his long fingers cradled the camera, the smooth way his body moved as he straightened and turned to face her. She’d almost think the admiring expression on his face was for her, but she knew it was only for the image she made.
This was Brendan. Graceful and charming. Dedicated and talented. Creative and sensual. Ambitious and demanding. She knew he didn’t consider the obsessed artist and the seductive charmer as two separate parts of his personality. It was all part of who he was. And the reason he could never give her what she needed.
As long as she remembered that, she could resist him. She had to.
Enjoy the heat 🙂