attached a red crystal weight to each nipple clamp.
Ohhh. The edgy pain on her breasts stoked her fires higher.
With a merciless expression, he did the same with the clit clamp. The weight bumped against her labia with every movement—and tugged on the increasingly sensitive ball of nerves.
“Ghoooost, no.”
“Now you know what we’re doing, I’ll give you a choice.” He curved his hand around her nape, his gaze serious. “Since I can’t leave yet, we’re going to walk around the club. You can either wear your unzipped dress with—or without the jewelry. Of course, if you annoy me, you’ll be completely naked.”
Her mouth dropped open at the threat.
Fine, she wouldn’t annoy him. However, what about the other options? Try to walk with clamps on her breasts and, so much worse, her clit?
However, the jewelry gave her some covering, at least. Without the chains, her breasts and pussy would be on full display.
Her brain went into a meltdown, unable to decide.
His smile widened.
“You really are a sadist.”
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.” When he tugged on the nipple clamps, then the clit one, sensations sparked across her nerve endings like fireworks.
She could feel the dampness growing between her legs as the pain slid into a heady carnal desire. “I don’t suppose we could simply go upstairs and play?”
He chuckled and traced one looping chain over her hip, her mound, to the other hip. Like the wake after a speedboat, he left a trail of heat behind. “Seems to me you have a punishment to serve first.”
“Next time, I’m going to lie,” she muttered.
Laughing, he motioned her to walk with him. Beside him, but on her own. Leaving her to face all the stares.
And people did stare.
Dammit, it felt as if her clit was poking out for everyone to see. Like it was ten times the size of normal. Rather than checking, she held her head high.
Ghost headed toward the bar. “Let’s get you a drink before we wander through the rest of the club.”
He chose a spot near the small replica of the Enterprise. Over her head, small planets dangled from the ceiling rafters.
Although Cullen had disappeared, probably to play with Andrea, Josie was still bartending. “Hi, Colonel—or I should say Captain. What can I get you tonight?”
“A Coke for me, please, and a Romulan Ale for Valerie.”
“Coming right up,” Josie said.
Valerie smirked. He’d have to release her hands so she could drink.
On Ghost’s other side, a white-haired Dom in long, heavy robes assisted an equally aged woman onto a barstool.
The Dom turned. “Ghost, how are you this evening?”
“Gerald, it’s good to see you.” The men shook hands.
Ghost set his hand on Valerie’s shoulder. “Martha, Gerald, this is Valerie.”
“A pleasure, Miss.” Gerald gave her a formal nod.
Martha had a totally sweet smile.
“Interesting.” Gerald studied her dress—and chains—before giving Ghost a laughing look. “You have a wicked streak in you.”
“Here and I thought I’d been very charitable.” Ghost grinned. “If she’s a good subbie, I won’t have to lead her using the leash.”
What leash? Valerie glanced down and stiffened. A length of chain ran between her clit and nipple clamps. If he pulled on it…
She wasn’t sure if she’d yelp or come.
Even as embarrassed warmth swept into her face, her nipples bunched tighter, adding to the pain of the clamps.
“You found an attractive discipline method.” Gerald turned to his wife. “I’m going to get you some chains, maybe in a darker color. They’d be lovely on you.”
“Yes, they would.”
When his wife beamed in delight, Valerie considered her. Martha was dressed as Lwaxana Troi—Deanna’s mother—in a bold jewel-encrusted dress with her shoulders exposed and plenty of cleavage.
Her breasts certainly weren’t perky, her face was wrinkled, her round belly also sagged.
Yet the way Gerald watched her said none of that mattered. He still desired his wife’s body. From Martha’s confident expression, his opinion—and her own—were all she cared about.
I’ve been an idiot. She could remember when she turned thirty-five and had been amused at the angst she’d felt in her twenties over everything—her appearance, dating, making love.
At Martha’s age, would Valerie look back on this year and be equally amused?
Achieving Martha’s serenity would be a worthy goal to strive for.
“Ghost, my dear. Sam and his Linda are joining us for dinner in two weeks on Sunday. You must come and bring your woman.” Martha winked at Valerie. “Just good company with all our clothing on.”
Valerie broke out laughing because the dress code was exactly what she’d been wondering about.