He brushed his lips across hers. She could smell the sweet aroma of the Cuban he had been smoking. Her tongue flicked across his slightly swollen lowe... lip. The knife was poised at her throat. She pushed her hands into his short, dark hair and pulled his face to hers. Their lips crashed together. Her hands came to rest at the collar of his gray Armani shirt. In one movement, she ripped it open. Buttons flew in all directions. His well-muscled chest, with its assortment of tattoos, was bared. If he actually hurts you, I’ll shoot him dead where he stands!” Then she kissed me softly on my mouth, and opened the car door for me to get in.We didn’t go to Mistress’ apartment, though; she took me shopping for clothes, and spent more money than I had even dreamed of seeing, and she did it as though the massive shopping bill was neither here nor there. One incident I remember was the moment I was asked to make a choice between two big leather coats, and when I hesitated, Mistress said to. More

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