Free The Collector by Kay Jaybee Page B

go.’ Kit felt uneasy, something
in her stirred. The sudden realisation that she was attracted to this
guy was worrying. How could she be, after what he and his mates
had put her through? Maybe she was just grateful and was on
automatic, maybe she just felt she should offer him some kind of
reward; sex usually covered it. Yet Kit instinctively felt that he would
be insulted if he knew that was how she felt.
‘It won’t hurt to have a shower. You look done in, not to
mention grubby. I’ll leave you to it then.’
‘You’re dirty too.’
‘True. I’ll have one afterwards.’ He passed her a large soft bath
towel, pressed the shower’s on button and walked out, closing the
door behind him.
As she peeled off her skirt and blouse, reflecting on her lost
knickers, Kit couldn’t help thinking about what he’d said. Had she
enjoyed it? The thought was not a comfortable one. The water began
to bounce off her shoulders, neck and hair. She always had liked it
rough, she was honest enough to admit that to herself, and being
bound was hardly new, but last night? It had been brutal. Kit closed her eyes as the water burned through her, and tried to
sort out the sequence of events that had taken place. The calloused
hands, the sickly smell of come and sweat, the grime of the room,
the scratch of the baize against her back and the strain in her arms.
Despite herself, Kit felt her nipples hardening; all those hands. Sure
she’d been scared stiff, but while she wasn’t convinced she’d actually enjoyed it, Kit knew in her heart that she hadn’t hated it either.
Maybe she did belong in the gutter.
She began to dry herself on the clean, if slightly discoloured,
towel. Her clothes looked even more uninviting now that her body
was clean. Kit dropped the towel and looked at herself in the mirror
that stretched across one wall. There were bruises forming across her
thighs now, and from the way her arse ached she guessed more were
on the way.
Her hands began to trace the line of her areoles, and she sighed
quietly as she watched the nipples of her reflection spring to life. She
lightly brushed her hands over them, sending small quivers down
through her body to her naked snatch. Closing her eyes Kit
remembered how good it had felt to have his chunky fingers rub
cream into her wounds. He had been unexpectedly tender. The heat of the shower had begun to dissipate and she shivered
as her wet hair dripped down her back. Kit wrapped the towel
around her body and began to rub herself vigorously.
She was so engrossed in drying her legs that the knock on the
door startled her. ‘Are you okay in there?’
‘I’m just drying, you can come in’ She pulled the towel tighter
around her.
‘I’ll wait till you’re dressed.’
‘My clothes are damp and ruined. I’m wearing a towel, so you
can come in.’
‘I’ll wait.’ His voice had developed an edge to it, but she carried
on recklessly.
‘You’ve already seen me in a far worse state for God’s sake.
Come in.’
‘I’m not a fucking saint woman!’ He yelled at the door. ‘Neither am I, so get your arse in here.’ Kit wasn’t sure how she
had come to that decision, but she knew she was as horny as hell and
he was there. The mere thought of shagging him and possibly being
able to work out which one he’d been in the melee of arms and
cocks last night was too good an opportunity to pass up. The haste with which he came through the door made her
smile. Kit found her towel wrenched away and his thick hands encasing her breasts before she’d even drawn breath. ‘Are you sure?’ His voice was husky and a glance at his trousers told her exactly what
he wanted to do right now.
‘I’m sure,’ she whispered up into her ear, before nipping it
between her teeth.
He roared and pushed her into the mirror, squashing her tits
against the steamed up glass. He poked a finger up her ass, which
sucked back at him greedily. His groan of lust as he realised that she
was up for an arse fucking made