Free Caged by Carolyn Faulkner Page B

as if he had known exactly what she was going to do to resist him, he simply held her for a very long time as he lifted the heavy curtain of her hair and kissed the back of her neck.  When she shuddered and his chest puffed out with satisfaction, he continued down that elegant line to lick and suck his way across her delicate shoulders as his free hand continued to tease and torture her breasts, first capturing one nipple then the other between his thumb and middle finger, then using his index finger to drag across or tap the very tip, over and over until she positively squealed with it.
    And when he did, finally, begin to move the fingers that were resting over the heat and heart of her, they didn’t immediately touch her anywhere that was blatantly itching for his attentions, but rather they wandered down the outside of her outer lips. He noted the differences in textures from where she had a certain amount of surprisingly soft hair to where there was none but tender skin. Then he moved his hand back up to the very top of her mound, tracing the arc there at the inner top of her lips, brushing his fingertips over her mons, and then separating those pliant folds to plow down her groove. He kept her lips wide apart as his fingers flowed down over her to the point on her body that was still a bit achy from its use yesterday, but the condition of her bottom easily overrode it as her chief complaint—although she had a feeling that those discomforts were going to be entirely blotted out momentarily.
     

Chapter Six
     
    As his fingers hovered over her entrance, she felt his question disturb the hair near her ear.  “Are you sore?”
    It surprised her that he would even ask, and she considered lying and saying that she was in horrible pain, but then she figured he’d know she was lying because she’d not shown any sign of it while she was up and about, and he would have been alert to that kind of thing from her, she thought.
    Although, perhaps she was reading too much into it.
    “Some.” It was the absolute truth.
    “I’ll be more gentle this time,” he promised.
    Not, “I won’t do anything to you,” or “I’ll release your hands and bow out of your life without ruining it any more than I already have,” but “I’ll try to hurt you less this time than before.”
    But to be fair, her body reminded her, it hadn’t been exclusively painful.  Some of it had been terrifyingly wonderful.
    Rachel didn’t want to think about that right now, thought, while she was already incredibly mad at him.  It was kind of funny, though, that her ripped dress was what had gotten her good and angry at him—not any of the other stuff he’d done to her, really.  Just an old, long since out of fashion, terribly worn scrap of material.
    His fingers didn’t enter her much, merely dipping into her as he breathed, “You’re wetter than you were last night.  That’s a good thing.”
    She didn’t know why that was good and she didn’t much care.  She felt detached and tried to encourage it, hoping it might keep her from making a fool of herself again while he molested her.  She didn’t feel much of anything except sore, front and back, and completely and totally angry, through and through.  There wasn’t room in her to feel anything but that.
    But then those slick fingers began to drag over that area of her body that was so blasted sensitive to him that it startled her every time he touched her there, and this time was no different, despite her supposed imperviousness to whatever it was that he was going to do to her.  She couldn’t ignore that.  She just … couldn’t.  Her body simply wouldn’t allow it.
    And neither would he.
    It wasn’t as if he didn’t know she was angry at him, and that she was doing her level best to ignore him.  But he was pretty sure he had a remedy for that.  His fingers attacked her clit mercilessly, rubbing and flicking it, using the entire pad of his middle finger, which more than