“What’s that?”
“’Tis an oil Michael gave me.”
“What for?”
“It is infused with ginger. He was inspired by Penelope’s love of that spice.” He smirked. “Michael uses it for punishments.”
“What? How?”
“I shall show you.”
“But-but I wasn’t aware I had earned a punishment.”
“No, I hope it won’t be a punishment. ’Tis more that I thought you’d appreciate the challenge. Remember, the goal is to sit still to gain a reward in—” He checked outside. “—less than an hour.”
“That seems doable.” But her tone was dubious as she stared at the vial.’Tis oil. How hard can this be? Will it make me slip on the seat or something?She also wasn’t entirely sure that she wouldn’t fall out of position if someone did ride by.
Robert rotated the vial then uncapped it. The stopper was coated in the oil.
Beth sniffed and the delicious sweet-spicy scent of ginger filled her nose.
He held the open vial between his knees and placed the fingers of his free hand on the swollen folds between her legs.
She caught her breath, hopeful for more stroking.
The vial stopper spread oil over her protruding nub.
’Twas the first he’d touched it that day, and the contrast of the hard glass stopper and the smooth oil sliding against her made her want to arch into it. No, winning this game meant sitting still.
He slid the cap just inside her hungry lips and swirled it, as though he was coating the entrance to her channel.
Her nails dug into her palms on the carriage seat as she restrained herself from following his movements with her hips. She watched him carefully, hopefully.
He wiped the stopper, returned it to the container, and tilted it to coat the end again. Removing the plug, he reached toward her.
Where was he putting it now?
His free hand tugged her hips forward on the seat so she slouched, her knees higher on either side of him now.
Whoa.The stopper touched her bottom hole. He’d never touched her there before.
He’s not actually touching me there now. Gah, semantics—something is!
As he dipped it inside her and swirled, she tried to process how it felt. It did not hurt. It felt strange but not unpleasant. Tingly, mayhap.
Oh no. ’Twas not his movements that felt tingly.
Her eyes widened as he wiped the plug and closed the vial, re-wrapping it and placing it back in his bag.
He chuckled at her expression, watching her intently.
’Twas the oil. No wonder Michael used it as punishment. Her whole front and back were on fire. She needed to move, to wipe it off, or swirl her bottom against the seat to soothe the burn, or something.
Can’t move. Mustn’t move. Her hands clenched. This was the challenge.
You can’t say you’re bored now. She rolled her eyes at her inner voice.
“Robert, oh you dratted man.” She couldn’t believe she called him that out loud. “Please, make it stop.”
