Page 16 of Trapped

“Ah, yes.”I was wondering when she’d finally relent to the call of nature.The urge seemed to have been lost to the wave of sexual desire—a fact I was not complaining about—but at some point, she’d need to cede.“The facilities are there for you if you want them.”

I gestured to the pot she’d rejected earlier, watching as her expression fell.

“Oh, God.Not this again.”Her fingers tightened on the edges of the blanket, but her squirming told me she was desperate and she had no choice.

“Come on now,” I chided.“I’ve had you over my knee and on my cock.I’m sure you’ll survive emptying your bladder across the room from me.”

She frowned, apparently liable to protest, but in the end, only a long sigh left her lips.

“I’ll turn my back if you go now.”How much more could I do to create the right ambience?We were in a dusty cabin in the middle of nowhere.The pot was as good as it got.“You’ll be okay.”

“Fine.”

She hobbled past me toward the pot, a scowl etched onto her pretty face as she stooped to collect a packet of tissues from her bag.I followed her journey with my gaze before I duly turned away toward the dark hearth.

“It might be worth checking our phones again soon.”I hoped the small talk would break the silence and improve her chances of success.“Sometimes, the signal comes back before mobile data.Maybe we’ll be able to reach out to the emergency services again.”

“Sure.”She sounded pained, and I envisioned her crouching over the small pot.

I wondered whether she’d discarded the blanket for the task—a decision that would surely have made the feat easier but would leave her exposed.Fleetingly, I considered turning around to see for myself, but I held back.I’d told her I’d look away, so that was what I’d do.I’d put her through a lot already and I couldn’t promise there wouldn’t be worse to come, but Icouldoffer her that one tiny sliver of solace.

Crouching to retrieve my device from my bag, I held my breath.My focus was fixed on what Erin was doing more than the phone’s results as I flicked it on.

“This might be the most humiliating moment of my life,” she muttered as nature finally took its course.

“Really?”My reply was sardonic.“Worse than when I tipped you over my lap for a spanking?”

“Oh, God.”Despondency rang in her tone.

“Are you done?”Opting to change the subject, I focused on not bursting into laughter at her performance.

“Yes.”

She sniffed, as though hovering over the pot had been her most grueling trial of the last day, but we both knew that wasn’t true.Whether it had been watching the rest of her party slip away or dealing with me in the claustrophobia of the cabin, she’d definitely dealt with worse.

“What was that?”My gaze scanned over the screen in my hands as it lit up.“Try that again, little girl.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”she snapped.“Yes, sir!”

She barked the reply, and as I spun, I saw her offering a feigned salute.Standing there with the blanket at her feet, she was totally naked and far too tempting to resist.

“I can only assume you like skating on thin ice?”Throwing my phone to the bed, I moved so fast she barely had time to react, closing the distance between us in two long strides.

“Wh-what?”Her eyes were as large as saucers as I grabbed her wrist and tugged her closer.“What are you doing?”

She collided with my body with a gentle thud, my arm closing around her middle to hold her in place as I went on.

“How many times have I told you how to address me?”Whatever the number, the answer was too fucking many.“We can get on really well together, if only you’d just learn to control that pretty mouth of yours.”

“Why should I?”she hissed, daring to challenge me despite her labored breaths.“Why should I call yousir?”

Burying my hand into her length of dark hair, I fisted her tresses and held her head still.“How about because you fucking love it?”

She blinked at me, apparently unprepared for the accuracy of my response.

“I know how much you adore submitting, and so does your body, so why can’t you just stop fighting?”My fingers tightened, eliciting a gasp from her parted lips.

“It’s not up to you,” she panted, her hands rising between us as though she intended to push me away, but there seemed to be no real intention to the deed.“I decide what I call you.”

---