He moved again, settling once more between her widespread legs. The vulnerable position left her uneasy and eager at the same time. How did he stir such conflicting thoughts, so she didn't even care what he might do?
The feather skimmed her thighs, and her muscles strained. She couldn't even flail her legs, he held her so securely.
"Gillian."
Her name, uttered on a husked and shaky breath, drew her from the riot in her head. She opened her eyes and met his penetrating stare. She understood his silent question but made no attempt to give him any sort of response, lifting her chin in a dare.
"As I thought." His voice, husked with passion, seemed a caress of its own. "Stubborn wench."
He smiled, a devilish grin that left her quivering and wondering if she'd been too reckless in challenging him this time. For a few moments more, he held her gaze as his hand settled on her sex, spreading her open. She panted and tried to twist away, to no avail.
At the first stroke of the feather along her pussy, she nearly swooned. The hint of touch teased and excited. He did it again, now moving in a steady motion along her slickened flesh. He paused, to exchange the wet feather for another, and continued teasing her flesh. Again and again, until the third time he switched feathers. She sucked in a deep breath, waiting to see how he would further torment her over-sensitized sex.
The tip of the feather brushed lightly across her clit, circling and stroking, giving just a taste of what she knew he could make her feel. Each gentle stroke felt delightful, but they weren't nearly enough, and the heat roared through her.
Gillian's head tossed in a vain effort to withstand the tantalizing tease. But Royce seemed to know just where to move the feather to bring out the most intense sensations. Her entire body tensed, tight as a bowstring, her hips rising to meet the diabolical kiss of the feather.
On and on he went, until madness sank into her thoughts. Razor-sharp need consumed her, bitter, sweet and so delicious. The feather continued to dance on her flesh, until she could bear no more.
"My lord, you're killing me!" She prayed he understood her mangled plea.
***
Though he didn't understand her words, the pleading in her voice sank into Royce's lust-dazed senses. He leaned back, studying his wife. The suspicion she enjoyed this too much rose swift and sure. He couldn't be positive if her words were a plea for him to stop or continue. He reached behind her and untied the cloth jammed between her teeth. Might he now get the confession he desperately wanted, much as he didn't want to hear it? Hearing her admit her affair with another man might push his rage past the point of any control.
But she remained stubbornly silent. So be it. His heart raced at the thought of continuing. He turned his attention to her sex. Swollen and red, the soft flesh pulsed, her hips undulating and offering herself to him. He ached to bury himself within her, but would not do that yet. Damn her, she would beg him and tell him the truth. He would have that at all costs.
He ran his fingers along her pussy and the low moan that escaped her jolted into his cock. He kept at the teasing motions and sensed when to stop. When he did, she whined, but no words came forth. Just those enticing whimpers and moans that made his cock throb.
He shook his head, giving her time for her body to come back from the edge of release. How he read her so well, he still didn't understand, but he half-hoped she would continue being stubborn. The delight in tormenting her had become a pleasure he had no intentions of surrendering.
Time to change tactics. When her squirming settled, he leaned back. A quick flick of his hand had his palm slamming into her sex. Her eyes widened, her entire body stiffening in shock with the sudden sting. Her rough cry reverberated within him, his dick now painfully hard.
He drew back and did it again. This time, her shoutsounded more like a pleased moan. She arched her back, lifting her pussy to him, as if asking for another. Knowing she took pleasure in the strike left his head spinning. Instead of repeating the blow, he resumed his soft and teasing strokes of her moist folds. Now her cries took on a desperate pitch. He was close to getting what he wanted.
He stopped touching her and leaned back, savoring the way her lids fluttered open. Her gaze remained hazy and unclear. Pain or lust? A combination of both? Mayhap.
"Why?"
The whispered word gave him pause. He found himself desperate to take her now, bury himself deep within her body. Nay! Not this time. An image of her guard reminded him of why he had taken this course of action. He would have the truth from her.
"Because I can. You will tell me what I wish, nay, what I need to know. By now, you should know I trust no one completely. You especially, have given me reason to suspect you of many things. Adultery I will not tolerate."
She shook her head. He sensed she battled her own desires, determining whether or not to give him the words he sought. The worry in her violet eyes confused him, for he somehow knew it had nothing to do with his actions now.
"I have done nothing wrong!"
He shook his head. "I cannot believe you. Not without proof."
"My word should be enough for you. I am your wife."
"'Tis not enough and you know it. Since the day I arrived, you've kept secrets from me. We both know that and we both know you still hold secrets. I will uncover them. I will not be cuckolded."
He lowered his head, swiping his tongue along her pussy, held open by his fingers. Another low wail escaped her. He drew back.
"Tell me of your lover."
"I have no lover! I was pure when we wed."
