– Randa leaned forward, nearly falling over again, to thwack him soundly on the thigh just above his knee, mouthing, "Get out so I can pee!" She became concerned that it was a grave miscalculation. As she looked up at him, she could see the wheels turning in his head, and then watched him make his decision without him saying a word to her. To her great relief, he did leave the bathroom, but deliberately left the door open, and she could see him – if she looked – leaning against the door jamb waiting for her, those massive arms crossed over his chest.
She made as if to get up to close the door, and his presence immediately filled the doorway, quite literally. "Sit back down, princess, and do what you need to do."
All she would need is to get her behind blistered again. She knew she was weak willed enough that she would do nearly anything to avoid such a fate. So she backed away from him, pouting exaggeratedly, until she felt her heels against the cold porcelain and then sat down gingerly in consideration of her poor beleaguered bottom.
He resumed his stance at the doorframe while she spent her time trying to convince herself that she should pee. "You do know that I can hear you peeing even when I'm in bed, don't you?" he said unhelpfully, and, she suspected, deliberately adding to her frustration and humiliation. She tried to groan, but ended up just holding her head in her hands.
Finally, it got to the point that she could hold it no more. She'd hoped to just tinkle softly, even if her bladder burst in the meantime, but her body took the choice away from her – as it was beginning to have an alarming tendency to do in more situations than just this – and she couldn't impose any control on it at all, blushing at least as bright red as her behind was, knowing that he was listening to her.
When she was done, she wiped herself, almost forgetting that he was there until he appeared in front of her and reached down to lift her into his arms again, even though her legs were probably fine by now. She had to concede that it was nice to be cared for like that. Miranda melted against him, wrapping her arms around his broad neck to Mace's delight, and he wished he had an excuse to carry her further rather that just the fifteen or twenty feet from the en suite to the bed.
Again, he wrapped her up in himself, happy to do something that was so easy – to say nothing of it being something he wanted to do – that made her so happy, expecting that he had exhausted her completely and that she'd be asleep in a few minutes or less. But she surprised him, as she often did, by moving restlessly against him, arching up against his hold, moving her legs and seeming to chafe against his tight hold on her.
He would have been asleep himself except for her fidgeting, and, one of the few times he completely missed what she was trying to tell him at first, he chided softly, "Miranda, keep still." For emphasis, his hand closed around one of her still impressively hot cheeks and gave a little squeeze. Mace was amazed that it had her panting and arching in a manner he finally realized he recognized only too well.
His woman was horny.
He was, quite frankly, amazed. She had taken a very serious punishment, one that had been bad enough to completely ruin her voice, and then been fucked to within an inch of her life – while he paid absolutely no attention to her pleasure at all. And yet here she was, her breath coming in short bursts, her body writhing as best she could within the confines of his arms. She was in heat, and he was loath to leave her like this overnight, knowing that a good hard orgasm – or eight – would only help her get the good night's sleep he'd been trying to aid her in achieving since he'd found out she had problems with insomnia.
Chapter Six
What Mace did next might have seemed contrary to a casual observer, but he knew what his woman liked. He had as many intimate details about what she enjoyed catalogued
She made as if to get up to close the door, and his presence immediately filled the doorway, quite literally. "Sit back down, princess, and do what you need to do."
All she would need is to get her behind blistered again. She knew she was weak willed enough that she would do nearly anything to avoid such a fate. So she backed away from him, pouting exaggeratedly, until she felt her heels against the cold porcelain and then sat down gingerly in consideration of her poor beleaguered bottom.
He resumed his stance at the doorframe while she spent her time trying to convince herself that she should pee. "You do know that I can hear you peeing even when I'm in bed, don't you?" he said unhelpfully, and, she suspected, deliberately adding to her frustration and humiliation. She tried to groan, but ended up just holding her head in her hands.
Finally, it got to the point that she could hold it no more. She'd hoped to just tinkle softly, even if her bladder burst in the meantime, but her body took the choice away from her – as it was beginning to have an alarming tendency to do in more situations than just this – and she couldn't impose any control on it at all, blushing at least as bright red as her behind was, knowing that he was listening to her.
When she was done, she wiped herself, almost forgetting that he was there until he appeared in front of her and reached down to lift her into his arms again, even though her legs were probably fine by now. She had to concede that it was nice to be cared for like that. Miranda melted against him, wrapping her arms around his broad neck to Mace's delight, and he wished he had an excuse to carry her further rather that just the fifteen or twenty feet from the en suite to the bed.
Again, he wrapped her up in himself, happy to do something that was so easy – to say nothing of it being something he wanted to do – that made her so happy, expecting that he had exhausted her completely and that she'd be asleep in a few minutes or less. But she surprised him, as she often did, by moving restlessly against him, arching up against his hold, moving her legs and seeming to chafe against his tight hold on her.
He would have been asleep himself except for her fidgeting, and, one of the few times he completely missed what she was trying to tell him at first, he chided softly, "Miranda, keep still." For emphasis, his hand closed around one of her still impressively hot cheeks and gave a little squeeze. Mace was amazed that it had her panting and arching in a manner he finally realized he recognized only too well.
His woman was horny.
He was, quite frankly, amazed. She had taken a very serious punishment, one that had been bad enough to completely ruin her voice, and then been fucked to within an inch of her life – while he paid absolutely no attention to her pleasure at all. And yet here she was, her breath coming in short bursts, her body writhing as best she could within the confines of his arms. She was in heat, and he was loath to leave her like this overnight, knowing that a good hard orgasm – or eight – would only help her get the good night's sleep he'd been trying to aid her in achieving since he'd found out she had problems with insomnia.
Chapter Six
What Mace did next might have seemed contrary to a casual observer, but he knew what his woman liked. He had as many intimate details about what she enjoyed catalogued
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