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“I don’t know, Sir.”
He used the brush again, dragging it along the curve of her breasts, down to her navel, then back up to her nipples. They puckered harder when he traced them with the brush, and Kate moaned, arching toward him. He went around her and painted along her back then, the brush drawing out shudders and goose bumps, as well as squeaks and sighs of appreciation. When he reached her waistband he traced along it, then pushed it down a couple of inches to play with the band of skin he’d bared.
Kate sank further into her kneel, her knees widening. Taking that as a cue, he reversed the brush in his grip and ran the smooth, wooden handle over her clit.
“What’s working for you, little girl? Being tied, being tickled, or both?”
“Both, Sir,” she said through gritted teeth. She whimpered.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” she said, her voice tight. Her hips were angled as far toward him as they could get, and she’d even shuffled a few inches toward him.
He pressed hard on her clit, then eased off, tickling again.
Kate mumbled something profane under her breath. “Why are you so mean?”
“Mean? You don’t like this?”
“Ugh! It’s . . . frustrating. My pants are annoying me.”
He raised his brows. “You told me you wanted them to stay on, remember?”
They stared at each other. She couldn’t have it both ways.
He ran one of his short fingernails over the bump of her clit, and she moaned. He’d never claimed he played fair.
“Temporary insanity!” she blurted. “Could you take them off?”
Don’t gloat. Just give the woman what she wants. “Certainly. Up.”
She stood, and he slid the yoga pants down her long, perfect legs, then steadied her as she stepped out of them.
Damn. Her bare pussy was so close to his face that he could smell her arousal. So her ex hadn’t been big on giving oral? Poor girl. He leaned in and blew a breath along her sex. Automatically, her hips tipped toward him again.
Not so fast, greedy.
“Kneel in the position I showed you last time. Facedown, ass up.”
She groaned, but complied. He held her elbow so she didn’t topple over.
“Tell me if your neck starts to get sore.” He checked her hands, which were warm and still a good color.
“Yes, Sir.”
He ran the brush over her bound arms, tickled between her fingers, drew invisible designs on her back.
“Look at those pretty stripes.” Her ass had several red belt marks still visible. He went over them with the brush and she whimpered, and then held her breath every time he went near the cleft of her ass.
“How have you stayed a virgin here with an ass like this?” He swept his brush down the valley, fascinated at the way Kate cringed and her ass tightened when he drew close. As he used the brush to lick a tickling path over the puckered hole, her high-pitched whine made him chuckle. Maybe she’d marked “curious” on the questionnaire, but her response now told a different story. She was nervous which meant he’d have to go slow.
“I don’t know.” Her voice was high, plaintive. “No one was ever interested in . . . that part of me before, I guess.”
He tossed the brush aside and slipped a finger between her legs, finding she was even more soaked than before. Playing with her clit made her squirm, her breath coming hard.
“Well, if you have a Dom, chances are he’ll use you there too. Some guys aren’t into it, though, so you might be safe.” If she went to Konstantin or Ambrose, however, she wouldn’t be.
“You’ve taken all your slaves
