Page 28 of Running Wild


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Meg swallowed, her mind running with the possibilities, her body eagerly responding.

Chapter Three

Had Meg worked out why he was doing this? She looked thoroughly mortified, so Piers guessed she probably had. There was only one way to find out, to ask her outright. She needed time though, she wasn't ready.

Staring at her auburn hair, half-tumbling over her shoulders, and those woebegone green eyes of hers, it was hard to turn away. But he had to. He went to the kitchen and looked in the fridge. It was an attempt to take his mind off his throbbing erection, but once he stared into the cool space long enough, he realized that he was ravenous. He hadn't eaten since before he visited their apartment, the day before. There had been several rushed motorway service stops for petrol and caffeine, and he vaguely remembered grabbing some sort of healthy cereal bar, but other than that, nothing.

He noticed that she'd bought local produce from the nearby town. He recognized the labeling on the peppered beef and the range of cheeses. On the work surface next to the fridge several bags bore the name of his favorite bakery. Had she remembered what he'd said about their produce and tried it because of that?

Lucky coincidence, more likely. He opened the first bag and smiled when he saw it was the rustic loaf he'd often eaten as a lad. He never thought that he'd be eating it while he had a sexy woman tied up and at his beck and call. Life had a way of presenting surprises in matters of the heart and human nature.

He made himself a stack of peppered beef sandwiches and when he returned to the living area, he offered her one. She shook her head. Interesting, he thought she might nod, in order to get the gag off. She really wasn't ready to talk. This was what she was like. There was a private side to her that he'd never been able to access. Sometimes she went quiet and distant and he'd hated not knowing what was going on in her mind at those times.

He sat on the edge of the futon, some four feet away from her, studying her while he ate. She kept her face turned away, and there was tension pouring from her, despite the orgasm she'd just had. This was hard for her.

It was bloody hard for him too. At first he'd been furious, because she'd kept it from him. If this was her fantasy, why hadn't she shared it with him before? Was she afraid that he'd freak out? If only he had guessed. The anger had motivated him to drive up and sort it out immediately. Along the way he'd had time to think and plan. He deviated from the route in order to pick up some goodies from a sex shop while his plan began to unfold.

Now that he'd actually unleashed the plan, he could see it all. Never had he seen her so aroused as she was in bondage. In turn, his erection had barely subsided since he put her in that state.

He put his plate aside and stood up. Stepping behind her, he unlocked the cuffs. When they were undone she remained in position as if unsure what to do. Piers drew her to her feet, stripped off her hiking jacket, sweater and bra then cuffed her wrists in front of her again. She offered no resistance this time, and kept her eyelids lowered. The patches of color on her cheeks had not faded since her orgasm.

"Look at me," he instructed.

Instantly, she did as he said.

Piers quelled the urge to smile. "Ready to talk about this?"

She stared up at him, eyes narrowed. The beautiful, lush appearance she always got after she'd had a good orgasm was tempered with a slightly hurt look. He hated to see that, but he also knew it was inevitable. He'd confronted her about her fantasies, and he'd done it in such a way that she couldn't deny it.

Eventually, she nodded at him.

He clicked his fingers before he removed the gag.

She lifted her chin, again responding instinctively when he commanded her. It made him deeply curious, not to mention hard as steel.

"How dare you," she whispered, when the gag was off. "Such Neanderthal behavior…unbelievable."

Piers noticed that the admonishment came out rather feebly. He'd obviously done a good job on her. He grinned. "I dare because you are on my territory now, Meg."

She remained silent, chin lifted proudly.

He directed her to the futon. "Kneel down."

She not only did as he said, but she also rested her elbows on the back of the sofa, as if she had anticipated what was coming next.

The sight of her derriere, naked and presented to him that way made his balls ache. He rested one knee on the futon beside her and slapped her soundly on the bottom.

Her body jerked, but she made no sound, and there was no outrage there.

Instead, she hung her head, and he saw her knees shuffle against the stuffed mattress. She did like it. She wanted to be spanked, like those women in the magazines she'd been reading in bed—their bed.

Piers spanked her again, several times in quick succession. Her bottom was developing a rosy hue. "Do you know why I'm punishing you?"

Restlessly, she shuffled around. "Because of the magazines."

Her voice was scarcely above a husky whisper. Piers glanced over her, from the shadowy cleft of her exposed pussy, to the spot where her breasts hung down and brushed against the back of the futon. Her nipples were hard as diamonds, and the way she wriggled showed how aroused she was.

"No, not because of the magazines."

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