All Chapters of Lovers In Disguise: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

"Condoms are in the car, darling, if you need any," Jazz unhelpfully supplies, before we grin at eachother again as if we really think that is a great pickup line."I meant your books," she clarifies."Baby, what I can do to you they don't teach in any books," I drawl, then actually wink at her. She'sobviously not impressed."Gentlemen, please correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't seem to be taking this matter veryseriously.""It's a bunch of stupid books," Jazz shrugs. "So what, my dad gives a couple hundred thousand to theuniversity each year. I think they can buy new ones from that."She purses her lips again, then looks down at her forms before she's back to glaring at us."This isn't about the money, and your name won't help you in this case, Mr.Whitlock. If you don't pay the fines and return the books, I will be forced to file an official complaintwith the Dean for deliberate destruction of university property, a copy of which will also be added toyour perma

and hope that she won't just put the crop away now. It seems to be her favorite toy for when she pullson her Big Girl Pants in the playroom, and I just love to be on the receiving end of it.To my slight annoyance, she does put the crop down and lays it across the table, but doesn't sit downyet. Instead she gets another box from the drawer, again starting with Jazz. He looks positively wide-eyed when he sees her pull out a pair of clover clamps, prompting her to offer him another nastysmile."Oh, come on, I'm sure you've done your share of mauling your conquests'tits; you can take a little of your own medicine."Still smiling, she slowly and deliberately runs a red lacquered nail over one of his nipples until heshudders, before she pinches the clamp on, doing the same on the other side as she ignores theconnective chain. When she does the same to me she's not nearly as gentle, first pinching my nippleswith her sharp nails, then yanking the chain so that the clamps t

not a sense of betrayal that I feel – as right now, she can do no wrong, and whatever she decides Iwill bow to gladly – but I hate feeling so utterly useless.It's been a while since anyone has managed to drag my mind that far under, and while I hate how I feelright now, I love it just as much at the same time.At least some of my forlornness must have shown on my face. Halfway through Jazz's five minutes,Bella turns her face to me, her eyes studying me intently. She's absolutely gorgeous the way her faceis flushed and her eyes are wide and glassy with her impending orgasm, but the fact that it's notentirely due to my actions dampens my joy at seeing her like that. A hint of a frown appears on herforehead, but before it can develop into anything more she comes, her eyes losing focus for a fewseconds.I have to look away from her then because I feel my mood drop even more, but a moment later myeyes snap back to hers when I feel her hand slowly slide up the side of my

I'm so tired that I don't even move when he pushes away from me, leaving me lying like that on thetable. I'm still trying to gather my wits and strength when Bella gets up and removes first the cuffs,then the weights from the stretcher and finally the hellish thing itself. Unable to hold in the whimpersof pain anymore, I scrunch my eyes shut and ball my hands into fists as I tough out the final waves ofpain, eased by her gentle hand massaging my tormented balls until I eventually fall silent.I want nothing more than to crawl into bed now and sleep curled around whoever comes close enoughto grab – and maybe take a shower first, seeing as this time it's me ending up covered in sweat, come,snot and tears – but Bella quickly disabuses me of that notion. She throws my discarded clothes at me,telling me to get dressed. I stare somewhat balefully at her but she only answers with a nasty grin,still acting all unapproachable bitch.When I'm finally done I join Jazz in front

back to her door three hours later. I don't know what I was expecting, but when I see her standing at the door, holding it open for me, my first reaction is concern. It's been over two months since I last saw her, and the woman standing there neither resembles the vibrant, immature girl I've known for more than half of my life, nor the self- righteous bitch I learned to hate over Thanksgiving. She has gained weight - at least ten pounds - and it actually looks good on her, but her eyes are sunken and surrounded by dark rings, speaking of lack of sleep and other things. I've never seen her wear so little make-up or almost ordinary clothes. "Hi," I offer as I stop at the door, not knowing what else to say. "Hi," she echoes. "Do you want to come in? I'm only blocking the door to keep Mr. Fibbins from escaping into the wild freedom of the stairwell." "Mr. Fibbins?" Before she can answer, a black furry head appears at her ankle, bright green eyes staring at me before the cat giv