Page 133 of Beyond the Cottage

Gretta impatiently flapped her hand. He stepped out of the pooled fabric and slapped it in her hand, keeping his distance.

The pants landed beside the shirt. “Come here.”

He remained where he stood, shoulders back.

As best she could manage, she looked down her nose at him. “If you ever want me to touch you again, you will come hereimmediately.”

He rushed closer, cock bobbing. Keeping her eyes on his face, she pulled the black ribbon from her ponytail, and her loose hair spilled around her shoulders. “Turn around.”

He obeyed. She roughly grabbed his wrists and crossed them at his lower back. He held them in place while she bound them with the ribbon.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“What does it look like? I’m taking you captive.”

Chapter 46

Somehow, Ansel’s cock shot harder. He’d never been this aroused in his life.

“You’re taking me captive?”

“Mm-hmm.” She walked a slow circle around him with a finger to her lips, sizing him up. He eagerly awaited her next move.

“On your knees,” she said.

His knees hit the floor. She stood over him with the bearing of a wicked queen, one who’d conquered his armies, razed his cities, and now demanded his body as her due.

To the victor go the spoils, my lady.

“What do you intend to do with me?” he asked.

“I haven’t decided yet.” She sat on the bed, regal as if it were a throne.

His hips arched toward her. The muscles in his arms bunched, straining the ribbon. He was so aroused it hurt. He’d nearly started stroking himself while feasting on her pussy and now regretted his restraint. Spending a round would have given him the stamina to survive her games.

“Legs wider,” she said.

How should he play this? She liked it when he dominated her, but defiance might prolong his suffering. If he threw himself at her mercy, perhaps she’d prove herself a more benevolent captor than he’d been?

“I’m yours to command.” He lowered his head and spread his knees. “Do with me what you will.”

“You think to court my favor with supplication?”

“Yes.”

“A wise strategy. Now look at me when I’m commanding you.”

He raised his eyes. Her expression was snooty, but he saw amusement around the edges. And arousal.

“What particular favor are you courting?” she asked. “Speak freely, captive.”

Ansel knew a trap when he saw one. Still, he couldn’t think properly enough to offer anything but the truth. “I want your mouth on my cock.”

“Figured as much.” She grew contemplative. “Elaborate, please.”

“Elaborate?”

“You know what the words means. Tell me what you want my mouth to do. And be specific.”

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