French Blue by Natasha Bond Page A

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