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Felt your body responding to the way her eyes had darkened, your nipples tightening, the curl of heat she’d been feeding all night clenching tighter.“Yes, I hike. Why do you ask?” You curse silently, shift back in your chair, reach for your own glass. This woman was doing her best to be the death of you through the slowest and most exquisite torture you had ever endured. And damn her if you didn’t want more.“Well, I am going on a hike tomorrow. My usual partner had to bail on me, work thing. So…” you let the sentence drag out, trail into silence.“Sooo…what?” she’s wearing that innocent expression again and you have to laugh, shaking your head. She wasn’t going to give a single inch.“So I need a partner and I’m going to assume you’ve never done any of the trails around here because you said you’d never been here before,” you say.“You assume right,” she states. She’s going to make you spell it out the little witch.“So how would you feel about going on a hike tomorrow morning, with me. I want you to take five deep breaths,’ he whispered in her ear as he stood behind her with his hands on her hips. He caressed her hips and arms before bringing his hands around her to knead her breasts. He fondled her and pinched her nipples, all the while telling her how beautiful she was and that he would not hurt her. Then he picked up the mask and gently, but quickly slid it over her eyes. Caitlin’s breath caught in her throat and she started to whimper. ‘Shh. You’re not hurt. Trust me.’ Jon cupped her breasts again and, as he played with them, he whispered in her ear, calming her. ‘Stand here. Do not move, slave,’ he said softy but firmly a few minutes later when she had calmed somewhat. Jon quickly pulled the comforter down and spread a flannel-backed vinyl cloth on the bed, flannel side up. He moved in front of Caitlin, unhooked her hands and brought them together in front of her body, and reattached the clip. She inhaled, but before she could utter a word, he kissed her.
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