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“Miss Korsgaard,” he barked.
She bolted upright in bed, blinking in confusion. She pushed her hair from her eyes, and the movement made the blanket slide down to her lap. The black, lace-edged tank top she wore stretched indecently over her pert breasts, and her breath shook.
“Yes, sir? What happened?” Her gaze darted around the room, scanning for an emergency.
“Nothing happened.”
“But...” Her brow furrowed and she drew her blanket up over her breasts and tucking it primly under her arms. She searched his face, her dark eyes wide. “Is there something I can assist you with, Mister Leduc?” Her body squirmed hopefully. He almost felt bad.
He pulled the blanket from her, leaving her on the white bottom sheet with only the obscene tank top and a tiny pair of boy short panties to preserve her modesty. Not lingerie, and probably not meant to be seen by him, which made it all the sexier.
He tugged her tank top up, exposing her breasts and her sexy pierced nipples, then drew down her shorts and threw them on the floor. He grabbed a pillow off the wing back chair and tossed it on the bed.
“Face down with your hips on the pillow.”
“Nooo...” If he had any empathy, her whimper would have made him feel guilty, but she did as she was told.
“Spread your legs.”
“What are you doing, sir?”
“Whatever I want to, Miss Korsgaard.”
He spread her legs wider, kneeling between them. She tilted her ass toward him, the round cheeks of it begging for his hands.
“Please,” she whispered, shivering. “Please use me. Please let me come.”
“So you’ve never had anything in your ass?”
“No!”
Whether that was an admission of being inexperienced, or a protest because she wanted to stay inexperienced, he wasn’t sure.
He dropped the lube and small glass plug onto the bed beside her face.
“Please – why are you doing this?”
“Because you’re letting me.” He grabbed her ass, separating her cheeks and looking at her tightly puckered anus. How did men fit in their women this way?
“No, please. I’ll be a good girl,” she begged. “Please – I’ll suck your cock so well you’ll forget all about this idea. I’ll give you orgasm amnesia!”
“Is that a real condition?”
“I’ll do my damnedest to make it one, sir,” she babbled.
“I think this is called the bargaining stage, Miss Korsgaard. You’ll feel much better when you simply accept this is going to happen.”
“No...oh, God. I’m so desperate right now it would take one second. Please can I touch myself?”
“Absolutely not.”
Her bottom lip trembled, but she nodded. Four days of teasing, and she was completely biddable. Her muscles relaxed, and she melted into the mattress.
He ran the pad of his thumb over her anus, and her breath caught and held. Gently, he teased her there, circling, stroking, tickling. She wriggled but didn’t try to get away. He opened the lube and squirted some at the top of her ass, then watched as it started its slippery descent to her back hole.
“I’m trying to teach you better self-control, Miss Korsgaard. If you can stop yourself from soaking that pillow with your needy pussy, maybe I’ll choose to let you come.”
She rocked her hips against the pillow and he landed a stinging smack on her ass, his print blooming bright red, making him want to add more yet not destroying the perfection just yet.
