Writhing was futile—the straps cinched her tight—but she tried, gasping moistly into the gag, slewing her hips that tiny bit, striving to push closer to him.
He put his hands back on her, in the right places, squeezing her clit and holding. He grunted, slammed in up to his balls. It was all she needed. She screamed into the gag until her throat was raw and aching. The room vanished. Fire tore through her in a thousand body-shaking bursts. Theo came, and the jets of his cum pulsing in her vagina triggered more spasms, while her wrists twisted, and her thighs pressed in vain against the cuffs and straps.
She had tears in her eyes when he let her down. He helped her to the bed; then, as she lay there trying to recall how to move, he went to the bathroom and returned with washcloth and a basin of water.
“Stay there,” he told her, as if otherwise was possible.
Afterward, when they lay in each other’s arms under the quilt, she dared to ask him, “Which part was the punishment?”
“Sir,” he said, quietly, reminding her. A pause as he gathered his thoughts. “The shaving of your *.”
“But I enjoyed that, sir.”
“Tying you above my window then.”
“I enjoyed that too.” She couldn’t help giggling. He’d forgotten.
He rose onto his elbows. “Insolent one.” And that made her laugh even louder.
“Now you’ve done it.” Chuckling, he wrestled with her until he turned her onto her stomach, then swatted halfheartedly at her bottom. “There and there! Punishment done.”
She giggled again. Which meant another smack, but it was worth it.
In the night she awoke and found she’d curled up to his warm side, in the shadow of his muscled arm. His breathing came steady as a tide washing in and out. She lay there listening for a long time, being comforted, feeling secure, before drifting off to sleep again.
When she next awoke, it was to the jars and clangs of the airship docking. Still nighttime—the floor window was dark. With the room lit by a dimmed voltaic lamp near the recessed entrance, she studied Theo. He snored quietly, lying sprawled on his back among the crisp white sheets. A tuft of dark hair at his armpit tempted her. Did she dare?
At the first foray of her fingers in his armpit, his opposite hand snaked across and snagged hers.
“What are you doing, insolent one?” Theo’s eyes glinted at her from slits. A hint of something dangerous lurked there.
She froze. Then temptation won out again. “We’ve arrived, and I needed to wake you. So…” She twisted her hand, aiming for the place to break his grip, between his finger and thumb. No luck. He was quick, too quick, without her resorting to sharp time. She grinned cheekily. This was fun, teasing him.
“By tickling me?”
He surged up with a roar, lunging for her other wrist and striving to flip her over. For once she resisted, testing him, using her knowledge to keep him off balance. They wrestled for a flurry of seconds, turning the sheets into a tangled morass. This close, without either wanting to hurt the other, Theo’s strength won out, and she ended up beneath him, her arms pinned at her back, knees crammed up under her stomach.
Her breasts heaved, rubbing her taut nipples on the sheet.
“And now,” Theo declared, breathing hard, “apologize. You do not tickle your master.”
My master? Oh, that sounds good. With her head jammed sideways and half under a pillow, it was difficult to talk. “Never,” she answered gleefully, wriggling a bit in a last-ditch attempt to get free. “Can’t make me.”
He growled. “You’ve sealed your fate.” He shook her.
The threat in his words sent her body quivering and robbed her of any will to resist.
Keeping his hold on her still, he wrapped and tied a twisted cloth, perhaps his trousers, about her wrists, then nudged her knees apart and took her from behind. This was no intricate seduction. Fast and brutal, yet she plunged into arousal. Wetness trickled into, then flooded her slit until she groaned at each thrust.
Theo laughed. “Don’t think you’re going to come. Not until I’ve had you at least twice.”
She groaned again in frustration.
“Will you tickle me again?” he demanded, slapping into her balls-deep, before twisting up her hair and lifting her head back.
She panted as she spoke. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. Oh. Please. Move. Sir.”
“Ah. I can see this will be fun.”
Though he made her wait for her own pleasure and did indeed take her using every orifice, before allowing her to come, by the end, she was left satiated and flopped across the bed. His love bites went from neck to buttocks, and she ached deliciously. The bed dipped, then sprang back as Theo left to ring for breakfast.
Heavens, she thought, dazed. If this was Theo at his worst, she never wanted to leave him. She wondered, with a little delightful trepidation, how else she might tease him and how far she could go.
Chapter Twenty-two