slyly.
“Aaa—gnes! I’m an adult. I think my wishes should be obeyed. I pay the power bills around here.”
“But I know what’s best for you.”
Priscilla waved a hand in his direction. “You thought he was what was best for me.”
“I didn’t hear more than a whimper out of you when he was doing my bidding in the shower. Actually, I did hear more than a whimper. There were quite a few sighs and one outright scream, too.”
Declan nodded, his cock twitching at the memory.
“And lover boy wasn’t exactly quiet, either.”
“That’s low.” Priscilla scowled and tucked the end of her towel between her breasts, securing it.
Declan followed the action. He much preferred her without the shield. Although the tops of her breasts were plumped up deliciously. “Let me get this straight, Agnes. Are you saying, if I stay, we still have a deal?”
“We do.”
“Yoo-hoo,” Priscilla interrupted. “What about me? I say he goes.”
“That’s not what you really want, sweetie.”
Declan made up his mind the moment Priss’s eyes narrowed with determination. “You’re on, Agnes. Now, butt out!”
“You’re not getting all macho on me, are you, smuggler?” Agnes asked.
“I’m just following the script.” He advanced on Priscilla. “Lose the towel, sweetheart.”
“Agnes?” A touch of trepidation made her voice sound small, but her eyes betrayed a widening excitement.
“It’s for your own good. Go with it, babe.”
Priscilla backed up toward the door, her gaze never leaving Declan. “I wasn’t kidding about pulling your power grid, Agnes.”
“Agnes,” Declan said, his voice mild. “I don’t perform well with an audience.”
“You got it. Tonio’s calling me. We still have to review the compression utilities of his hard drive. I may be a while.”
“Agnes? Don’t you dare leave me,” Priscilla said, alarm rounding her eyes.
The ensuing silence was deeply gratifying. Now, he had Priscilla to himself—and every pink and creamy inch of hers to do with as he pleased. Blood surged from all points straight to his cock. It surged upward, pointing in Priscilla’s direction. For once, he was more than happy to be led. Declan gave her a rapacious grin and stepped toward her.
“Ack!” Priscilla lunged for the door and swung it open, letting it crash against the wall. “You stay away from me,” she shouted over her shoulder as she ran into the bedroom.
He followed her through the door. Grabbing the edge of her towel, he jerked his arm back, stripping her. Then he darted toward the door to the hallway to head off her only escape route.
Wild-eyed, like a doe trapped in a pen, Priscilla backed away from him, deeper into her bedroom—closer to the bed.
Once he was sure she didn’t have an exit, he calmly folded his arms across his chest. “You heard Agnes. I haven’t any choice in the matter. I’m to have me wicked way with you—however I please.”
“That’s not what she said.” Her voice quavered, but her chin was raised high.
“But it’s what I heard.” His gaze swept her from head to toe, lingering over the places he intended to pillage.
Her chest rose and fell more swiftly now. “You can’t catch me,” she said, sounding breathless.
“You think not?” He lowered his voice to a rumble. “Try me, sweetheart.”
She blinked, then turned on her heel and fled to the far side of the room, her buttocks jiggling enticingly as she scurried away.
Declan stalked toward her, keeping his expression menacing. “Prickly Priss” appeared to like a darker sort of game.
She whimpered and stepped behind an odd apparatus, keeping it between them.
He barely spared it a glance as he stomped toward her, but then his gaze returned to it. “What the hell is this?” His hand reached out to the leather saddle perched on the end of a waist-high pole. The two steps at the base and the stirrups that hung from the sides of the saddle indicated it was meant to be mounted. Gliding his
“Aaa—gnes! I’m an adult. I think my wishes should be obeyed. I pay the power bills around here.”
“But I know what’s best for you.”
Priscilla waved a hand in his direction. “You thought he was what was best for me.”
“I didn’t hear more than a whimper out of you when he was doing my bidding in the shower. Actually, I did hear more than a whimper. There were quite a few sighs and one outright scream, too.”
Declan nodded, his cock twitching at the memory.
“And lover boy wasn’t exactly quiet, either.”
“That’s low.” Priscilla scowled and tucked the end of her towel between her breasts, securing it.
Declan followed the action. He much preferred her without the shield. Although the tops of her breasts were plumped up deliciously. “Let me get this straight, Agnes. Are you saying, if I stay, we still have a deal?”
“We do.”
“Yoo-hoo,” Priscilla interrupted. “What about me? I say he goes.”
“That’s not what you really want, sweetie.”
Declan made up his mind the moment Priss’s eyes narrowed with determination. “You’re on, Agnes. Now, butt out!”
“You’re not getting all macho on me, are you, smuggler?” Agnes asked.
“I’m just following the script.” He advanced on Priscilla. “Lose the towel, sweetheart.”
“Agnes?” A touch of trepidation made her voice sound small, but her eyes betrayed a widening excitement.
“It’s for your own good. Go with it, babe.”
Priscilla backed up toward the door, her gaze never leaving Declan. “I wasn’t kidding about pulling your power grid, Agnes.”
“Agnes,” Declan said, his voice mild. “I don’t perform well with an audience.”
“You got it. Tonio’s calling me. We still have to review the compression utilities of his hard drive. I may be a while.”
“Agnes? Don’t you dare leave me,” Priscilla said, alarm rounding her eyes.
The ensuing silence was deeply gratifying. Now, he had Priscilla to himself—and every pink and creamy inch of hers to do with as he pleased. Blood surged from all points straight to his cock. It surged upward, pointing in Priscilla’s direction. For once, he was more than happy to be led. Declan gave her a rapacious grin and stepped toward her.
“Ack!” Priscilla lunged for the door and swung it open, letting it crash against the wall. “You stay away from me,” she shouted over her shoulder as she ran into the bedroom.
He followed her through the door. Grabbing the edge of her towel, he jerked his arm back, stripping her. Then he darted toward the door to the hallway to head off her only escape route.
Wild-eyed, like a doe trapped in a pen, Priscilla backed away from him, deeper into her bedroom—closer to the bed.
Once he was sure she didn’t have an exit, he calmly folded his arms across his chest. “You heard Agnes. I haven’t any choice in the matter. I’m to have me wicked way with you—however I please.”
“That’s not what she said.” Her voice quavered, but her chin was raised high.
“But it’s what I heard.” His gaze swept her from head to toe, lingering over the places he intended to pillage.
Her chest rose and fell more swiftly now. “You can’t catch me,” she said, sounding breathless.
“You think not?” He lowered his voice to a rumble. “Try me, sweetheart.”
She blinked, then turned on her heel and fled to the far side of the room, her buttocks jiggling enticingly as she scurried away.
Declan stalked toward her, keeping his expression menacing. “Prickly Priss” appeared to like a darker sort of game.
She whimpered and stepped behind an odd apparatus, keeping it between them.
He barely spared it a glance as he stomped toward her, but then his gaze returned to it. “What the hell is this?” His hand reached out to the leather saddle perched on the end of a waist-high pole. The two steps at the base and the stirrups that hung from the sides of the saddle indicated it was meant to be mounted. Gliding his
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