Page 134 of Beyond the Cottage

Ansel eyed her with suspicion. Was she toying with him for her royal amusement? Or did she mean to simply torture him? Either way, he was determined to survive his wicked queen’s cruelty. If this was a duel of wills, he’d fight towin.

Servile pretense abandoned, Ansel drew his shoulders back and let his erection jut proudly. “Well, then. I confess I wouldn’t be difficult to please, but if you insist on specifics, a nice, long lick would be a good place to start.”

“Just a basic lick? Like, along the side?”

“The underside, ideally. Balls to tip, dragging the skin with your tongue.”

Her cheeks flushed and her breath sped up. He stifled a smile. Could he perhaps turn the game around on her?

“Okay,” she said. “What then?”

“Hm. I imagine some men prefer a no-frills, to the point deep throating, but I’m not averse to a little build up. I’d have you give the head attention first.”

“…Attention?”

He ruefully shook his head. “Forgive me, you demanded specifics. By attention, I mean you’d take the the head between your lips, just past the ridge, and suck on it while you lick the slit.”

Her cheeks got brighter, her stare more rapt. “Approximately how long would I do that for?”

“A minute, maybe two. Just long enough to get me primed for a deeper sucking.” As if his cock wasn’t so primed, he’d go off if she breathed on it.

“What if…”

He arched a brow.

“What if it doesn’t all…fit?”

Ansel stared at her hard, and she glanced away. A tenuous, far-fetched,exhilaratingsuspicion snuck up on him.

“Gretta,” he said carefully. “Have you never taken a man in your mouth before?”

Her face went up in flames. “OfcourseI have. I just…like to customize my favors.”

Primitive jealousy and possessiveness hit him in the sternum. It was irrational, utterly juvenile, and it goaded him to further vulgarity. “In that case, I’m flattered you’re not sure you can take all of me. But if I hit the back of your throat and there’s some left over, you’re welcome to stroke me off while you suck.”

Her eyes widened, but he saw no revulsion. How far would she let him take this?

“Or you could play with my balls,” he added. “I prefer cupping to tugging.”

“Anything else?”

He pretended to give it thought. “I think that about covers it. Of course, the crux of it all depends on you.”

“How?”

He leaned in, leering at her mouth. “When I come buckets, will your pretty throat drink me down?”

She pulled away with a sharp gasp, and Ansel grinned.

Eyes narrow, she smoothed her skirt and crossed her legs. “Having a good time?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Maybe I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll go to bed, and you can laugh it up while you spend in the bathroom.”

His smile fell. “I’m not laughing at you, Gret.”

She sniffed, bearing regal again. “You’re amusing yourself at my expense when you’re in no position to. I believe you’re still my captive.”

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