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“Did I give you permission to move?”
“I wasn’t moving, I was just squirming a little. You can’t expect me to just hold still when you’re doing that! I’m—”
“Shut up.”
She sighed theatrically, but did as he’d commanded.
When he poked his fingers into her mouth and ran his fingertip along her teeth, she glared at him.
“Open wide.”
Seriously? So humiliating!
She opened her mouth and he looked inside. Was he going to holler in there to see if she echoed? Humiliated, she closed her eyes. In all the years she’d been a submissive, she’d never had the inside of her mouth inspected. Weird man.
“Good girl.” He closed her mouth and patted her chin, pleased, and she had to stop herself from getting all fluttery over the praise. How could she be falling under his spell already? No, this was bad!
He drew a line down the dip of her back, starting at the top of her neck and stroking downward, as though checking the straightness of her spine, knowing he was headed for her ass and yet helpless to stop him.
Inspections were usually so boring, and yet, she was about to go out of her mind with lust. Ridiculous. She seemed to have no control over her reactions to him.
He moved behind her and pulled apart her labia, inspecting her there, too, giving her no way to hide how turned on she was. The scent of her own arousal filled her nostrils and she closed her eyes in humiliation.
“So small here. How do you even take me?” He slid a finger into her and met no resistance because she was so slick, then a second finger, stretching her, but frustratingly not fucking her with them. As if he was measuring or something? Fuck. What was he thinking about doing to her?
His thumb came down on her anus and rubbed in small, teasing circles. She tensed, all too aware of what she’d been fantasizing about, and his responding chuckle feathered breath over her ass cheeks.
“Every time I touch you here”—he rubbed the pad of his thumb back and forth over her asshole—“your pussy squeezes so tight. I should play with your ass while I fuck you from behind. Would you squirm for me and try to get away, or would you just milk my cock with your tight little cunt?”
His crude words made her pussy clench, and he chuckled, as though he’d made her do a clever trick. Jerk.
Her ears burned with embarrassment. She opened her mouth to say something sarcastic, but his other hand came up between her thighs, his fingers finding her clit where it pulsed sulkily, and tapped it far too gently.
“No, no,” she begged as he kept up his torment. A finger tapping her clit, a thumb brushing gently against her asshole, two big, motionless fingers stiff inside her. She fought her impulse to struggle, half wanting to crawl away, half wanting to fuck herself on his fingers.
“That isn’t the safeword we agreed on, pixie girl.” He said something else about needing to see her pussy and ass pulse when she came but she couldn’t hear him right over the roaring in her ears.
Her entire mind and body laser focused on his fingers that seemed to be everywhere at once—inside her, brushing over her ass, tapping a persistent rhythm on her painfully engorged clit. From between her legs she watched him. God, his face was so close to her ass, observing the havoc he was wreaking with the fascination of a sadistic scientist on the verge of an important discovery. Every time her eyes squeezed closed, she would force them back open to watch him.
Finally, frustratingly, she was hovering on the brink, and his expression shifted from clinical to a sadistic leer.
“You’re hating this, and yet you’re going to come for me, aren’t you?” he crooned. “You can’t even help yourself.”
His fingers stopped and withdrew.
She screamed and tried to turn over, but he kept her on her hands and knees, the ripple of her ruined orgasm nothing but an involuntary contraction of muscles without the satisfaction she needed so badly. She raged at him, fought him, but he only quietly held her in place. He spoke to her, quiet, meaningless words about how he was sorry but that it was good for her.
Good for her? Had he actually just said that?
Eventually, he let her turn onto her back. She watched him in disbelief as he rummaged around in her duffel bag and came back with a stack of clothes. He slid a pair of panties up her legs, pulling them so high they snugged uncomfortably against her swollen clit. From there, he tugged her socks on, and then some leggings, finishing the outfit with an ultrathin T-shirt that she usually wore layered. With no bra, the almost-sheer white fabric would have gotten her arrested in public. When she was dressed, he grabbed her ankle and dragged her to the edge of the bed, then put her sneakers on her feet.
Although she sulked, he ignored it, and towed her through the halls and downstairs to the kitchen as she plotted painful and exotic ways to kill him.
Chapter Twelve
Grant left Arabella grumbling under her breath and cooking him breakfast in the kitchen, doubtlessly contemplating the most painful poison she could add to his food. He chuckled at how pissy she was. She claimed to want him, and knew what he was capable of, so he wasn’t sure why she was so surprised.
As he searched through the lodge for possible items to put in an impromptu toy bag, he was once again thankful that he’d paid the extra money to have the old owners leave almost everything behind. Every time he wished he’d brought something with him he found one of whatever it was tucked away in a closet or a corner. They’d left everything down to and including T-shirts and mementos in the gift shop. Condoms would have been nice, but then again, the idea of being bare inside her? He groaned and kept shopping.
