Black Burlesque by L.C. Castillo

Author:L.C. Castillo [Castillo, L.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-11-06T22:00:00+00:00

I straddle Vincent. I am sitting on the back of his thighs, each leg draped over his. He wakes slowly; I rake my nails down his back, and over his finely sculpted rear end. He truly does have a fine backside, a perfectly muscular back. I can see every delicious, rippling muscle he has as he stretches and attempts to reach out to the empty side of the bed. He opens his eyes and tries to turn over, and finds that he can’t. I smile on the inside.

“What?” He tugs against the headboard. “Lenore, what are you doing?”

His head collapses back onto the pillow. It’s still dark out, and we remain washed in twinkly pink lights. His arms and his legs are neatly tied to my bed. Spread wide, it’s a wonder he didn’t wake while I tied him up with the scarves. I get off of him, and I run my hand from the top of his head, down his back, between his cheeks, and down his toned thighs. I tuck my hand between his legs and palm him, rolling and gripping his sack in my hand. He groans, and lifts his hips to give me better access. I let go and lift my hand and smack his ass, hard. It takes him by complete surprise.

His eyes fly open. Yes, that was meant to hurt, and no, I am not playing a fun game with you Vincent. I trail my hand across his back again, and slowly and softly rub the cheek that I just slapped, caressing it gently before lifting my hand and smacking him again, even harder this time. He turns his head and eyes me speculatively. Anger clouds his blue eyes.

“Ah, damnLenore! What are you doing?” He sounds unsure; he is probably wondering where I am going with this. These are clearly not playful love pats.

I’m silent, my eyes look directly into his, unfaltering and unwavering. I put my face closer to his, and with a seductive smile playing on my lips; I caress his backside once more. He begins to relax, a fraction, and I lift my hand and smack him—hard—a third time.

Fury flashes across his face. Well, I’m angry, too.

“Who. The. Fuck. Is. Charlene?” I ask, ever so slowly.

My hand rests on his lower back. I watch the anger leave his face, quickly replaced by panic. I can practically hear the wheels turning in his mind. I lift my hand and hit him again, just beneath his right buttocks.

He looks vulnerable and defenseless; which he is. I watch him turn things over in his mind. He must know how I found out, and even though I feel bad about betraying Benny, I need answers. He also needs to understand, that if he is going to be with me, even if it is on my terms, he is absolutely not to be with any one else. I just can’t handle it.

Obviously.

“Lenore, untie me so that I can explain myself properly,” his tone is agitated.

I give

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