Captivated

She swung her legs over the bed and sat for a moment, contemplating the moonlight filtering in through the window.

She could jump out the window and be beholden no more.

… ungrateful!!…

She wrapped her arms around her midriff.

The heat was suffocating. And there wasn't a window open anywhere except the transom between the bathing room and the hallway.

He trusted her not.

She didn't even trust herself.

…ungrateful!!!… that he had given her pleasure and made her feel like a trussed-up turkey… Oh, no, she wasn't going to give in to that; the pleasure was not going to supersede the indignity.

She wouldn't let it.

No matter how it sounded.

To her.

To Gerard…

She fell on her back.If only he had taken me…

If only he would come nowand get it over with…

He couldn't take much more of this. Or maybe he could, if he found a willing body to poke while he waited for his high-and-mighty wife to come around.

Plenty of willing bodies between St. Faubonne and New Orleanshe could just see them, sassy, saucy vixens beckoning in the night, never hesitant to slide a hand up a man's pole to gauge the worth of what they had to sell.

He could settle for that, he could. A little sport, a quick spurt to relieve the tension and the ache, a wink and a kiss and he could be out the door, and nobody hurt.

But nobody with nipples like hers…

nobody as naked and luscious-tasting as her…

… nobody

Hell.

Maybe he'd have her for breakfast, he was that ravenous to possess her.

Maybe not, he thought, as he caught the expression on her face as Evie escorted her into the room.

A man couldn't ease up for a moment.

'Sit there,' he ordered, pointing to an upholstered rectangular bench. 'Straddle it. Eviebring over the little table, let her eat something, thank you.'

'And coffee, Master Court?'

'Yes, thank you. Stay by for a moment, please.'

'I'm not hungry,' Drue said. 'I want this damned collar off my neck.'

'Eat, little fawn, you need your strength.'

'I need an open window, a fan, and some clothes,' she said in a petulant tone.

'She won't learn, will she,' Court muttered, taking a biscuit and slathering it with butter and jam. 'Well, I need to keep up my strength, little fawn. You almost sap the life out of me with your stubbornness.'

'I hope so,' she hissed.

'But not quite. As you can plainly see.'

She saw. His whole body had bolted to life the moment she appeared on the threshold. And it just kept getting longer and stronger and harder as she stared at it.

An amazing thing

She bit into a biscuit with a ferocity that made him quiver.

Interesting…

He sipped his coffee and pretended nothing had happened.

They could be any couple sharing breakfast, except that she was naked, wearing a thrall collar, and sat across a bench with her legs spread and her husband's eyes devouring her as greedily as he did his food.

'Evie.'

'Master?'

'Do her hands now.'

'What…?!' She was holding a cup and a biscuit, but Evie paid no mind; she grasped each wrist, and as the cup and biscuit fell to the floor, Evie firmly pulled her hands behind her and wound a satin tie around them.

'Thank you, Evie.'

He watched through hooded eyes as Evie left them, firmly closing the door behind her; and then he turned his attention to Drue.

'Yes…' he murmured. 'Perfect.'

Perfect the way her body arched and her breasts thrust forward because of her bound hands. Perfect how she had to press down against the fabric of the bench to keep her balance and her legs apart the way he liked them.

Perfect because her nipples were tight and hard with suppressed excitement and her eyes alive with curiosity and fury both at what he was going to do.

Maybe she knew.

Maybe she didn't.

He wanted those nipples.

He wantedher.

He dipped a finger in the jam pot, and pressed it against her nipple and began swirling it around the hard pleasure point.

She jerked away.

'Oh, no, little fawn. I will have this, too. I thought about it all night. Imagine it: me fantasizing about covering your nipples with jam so I can suck them.Hold still…!' as she wrenched away from him.

He leapt up and straddled the bench behind her, holding her tightly against his hot hard chest with one hand, and reaching over to the jam pot with the other.

She wanted to stop him; she was desperate to stop him as he rubbed her nipples, first one, then the other pointed peak, with the soft, sticky jam.

She had her hands. She had the weapon, the long bone of an erection sliding up her buttocks. She could… she couldsqueeze him or pinch him or something

She groaned involuntarily as his fingers made magic on her breasts.

That wasn't supposed to happen, it wasn't… she didn't want to feel them swirling, caressing, squeezing her nipplesthe sensation spiraled right down between her legs and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Her body, her traitorous, pleasure-seeking body, squirmed in delight, and it curved at an impossible angle to demand more of those tantalizing beguiling fingers on her breasts.

Her head lolled against his shoulder, and she moaned over and over, 'No, no, no, no…'

And he murmured in concert with her protests, 'Yes, yes, yes, yes…'

And he grew bigger and tighter with every moan, spurting hotter, harder, more insistent with every 'no' she uttered.

'I can't, I can't, I can't…'

'You can…'

'I don't want to'

'You do…'

'Oh, God, Courtdon't…' as the feeling feeding from her nipples swelled and expanded and then streamed and funneled between her legs.

'Yes,' he whispered into her ear, 'give it to me… give me, give melet it… let it… come'

'No-o-o-o-o-o…'she groaned as she bent double and ground her hips into the bench. 'No-o-o-o-o-o-o…' as his relentless fingers kept at her nipples until she could hardly stand the feel of them, and she pulled and pushed at