Peregrine's Prize by Raven McAllan

Author:Raven McAllan [McAllan, Raven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Well that was going on with a vengeance. Maggie might wonder if Perry was able to do what she rather suspected he had in mind, but to hang with the doctor and Nash's softly, softly, approach. If Perry wanted to play in a way they both loved who was she to complain. Maggie reckoned he was old enough and sensible enough to stop when it all became too much for his weakened self.

"Now Maggie." His voice compelled, demanded even, and Maggie's core throbbed with the need to do as he dictated. "Unless you want your arse tanning … No that is no punishment. Perhaps I say unless you want me to withhold your completion?"

She shuddered as she stepped out of her dress. That punishment had been used before to the detriment and then ultimate enjoyment of them both. Of course he noticed and he chuckled. "Ah, is that more like it? It will all come back to me I'm sure. What I do remember is that I'm the leader here."

What is it about a bump on the head that brings the caveman out in a normally rational male? Although in all fairness, Maggie happily accepted Peregrine was always in charge with regards to their sexual activities, even when he let her be. It might not suit some people but for their loving assignations it suited them both perfectly. Outside of those times they tempered it to suit whatever circumstance dictated.

She looked over her shoulder as she put her knee onto the bed in preparation for doing as he said. "I remember," she said and could have cursed at her stupidity. To remind him that she was privy to things he wasn't was a cruel thing to do. Luckily he chuckled ruefully.

"And I do not. But I will … oh by all that's holy I pray I will." He stayed silent for a second, and she used the time to get into the position he asked of her. As the silence stretched to a point where she almost turned around to check he was still awake and not comatose on the floor, a hand—a large familiar male hand—caressed the globes of her arse.

"You will tell me all if this state of limbo continues past the point I can't bear it won't you?" One finger stroked up the soft cleft between each rounded globe and teased the puckered hole there. He might have consciously forgotten her, but his mind knew what worked to send her pulse soaring and her body shivering in anticipation of what was to come.

"Won't you, love?" His fingers stopped moving and she moaned in disappointment as she dithered how best to answer.

A sharp smack on each arse cheek made her gasp and squirm. His laugh was low, full of promise, and made her juices gather. This was the Perry she remembered. For each two smacks, he caressed her. For each caress his finger teased inside her that little bit more.

"Won't you?" His hand stilled and he began to remove his finger one tantalizing tiny movement after another.

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