“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” He frowned, even managing to sound concerned, although she doubted he had any compunction about his actions. “I used an inordinately small amount.”
“Small! It burns!”
“Take a breath, Peaches. Does it hurt? Or is it simply uncomfortable?”
“I don’t care,” she wailed, but she was very careful not to fidget. She would win this contest of wills, even if he had tricks of torture. Instead, she bared her teeth.
“Ah, sweeting.” He stroked up her legs again. “You’re doing very well. Your reward will be grand, I promise you.”
“Please, help. Distract me?”
“Shh. I am. Focus on my hands.” They resumed tracing her limbs.
The soothing motion was countered by the strange pulsing heat from the oil inside both her holes and on her little nub. The discomfort edged toward desire. She wanted nothing more than his finger on that hard protrusion, circling in the oil to soothe her, distract her, take her over. ’Twas good he did not attempt to entertain her with words, as she could not have focused to save her life.
Never, in all her vast and varied experiences, could she have imagined such a sensation. ’Twas pleasure and misery combined, and her inner muscles spasmed, begging for him to insert a finger, tongue, or cock. Anything. As her muscles twitched and the burn flared again, she had the sudden wish that her reward was drenching his cock in the oil and seeing how he liked it. Although then she would not want him inside her.
Robert focused on her breasts, massaging them, tweaking her nipples through her dress. “How does this feel?”
“I am struggling to focus on the pleasure given the burn.” Mayhap an exaggeration, but she wanted to encourage his nicer play.
“Ah, but I know you enjoy an element of slight pain to heighten the pleasure. Like this.” He tweaked her nipples hard.
“Hmph.” She started to arch into him but caught herself.
“Good girl.” He soothed her with words and with gentle fingers.
“Is the burn stimulating? Does it make you want more? Does it arouse you?”
“Is this research?” she asked, panting. She also was loath to admit she might want more, might enjoy riding that edge.
He blushed. “Well, I procured it to experiment with you, but as we have some time left in our ride, I thought I’d ask. I have not yet seen how it affects leather, though. If it works well enough for short periods without damaging the fabric, I see possibilities.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Now, Peaches,” he admonished.
“You said no movements, not eye gestures.” She pouted.
He leaned in and gently bit her jutting lower lip. “You’re beautiful even when you are disgruntled.”
She melted, despite the ongoing burn in her bottom hole making her want to squirm.
Her front passage, though, knew what it wanted. Soothing fingers or lips would go a long way to easing her ache.
If only she could believe there was a chance of that happening before they arrived in Peterborough.
Chapter Fifteen
Robert had tested the oil on his lips and had felt a light sting. He was relatively sure Beth would enjoy the experience, even if not at first, and he was quite certain she’d tell him if it was not pleasurable.
As she had not, he’d gotten to stroke her limbs and breasts for a half hour, his cock thickening in his pants. Then, when he could see the start of the city sprawl, houses and small shops emerging along the road, he switched to giving her the strokes he knew she’d craved for the past half hour. Spreading the oil around her swollenkleitoris, he kept his motions slow enough to excite but not tip her over into orgasm.
Her nipples beaded against her dress. She panted quick breaths that told him how close she was, at which point he’d slow or stop, or insert his finger into her dripping channel ever so slowly.
Swirling his finger inside her seemed to reignite the oil; her muscles clenched and she bit her lip as her breath caught.
He was almost as on edge as she was and tried not to think about what he would do with her as soon as they gained their room. As they ventured closer to the city center, he dipped lower and swirled his finger in her back hole.
