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“Good morning, little girl,” He sounded just as pleased as he looked, despite her turning away from him. He undid the restraints on her wrists and ankles and then pulled the covers up over her. “I have some things to do. Don’t try to leave the room. I’ll be back.”
And then he left her alone, feeling rather strange. Drowsily, Trish rolled around in the bed, trying to understand why she felt guilty. Because he’d given her pleasure without taking any for himself? There’d been no mistaking the hard-on he’d had when he’d gotten dressed. Had he not had the time? But he’d taken the time to get her off with his mouth rather than just fucking her awake.
It was too confusing and too early. Trish rolled over and closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
When she woke up again, Jordan still hadn’t returned. She couldn’t have slept more than an hour; she’d been mostly awake when he’d left. Trish went into the bathroom and took care of her needs before removing the plug from her anus. She made a face as she wrapped it up and put it in the trash. He could look for it later if he wanted to.
That tiny act of rebellion made her feel a bit bolder as she explored the room—although not so bold she felt the need to test the door. Many of the drawers were locked, but Trish looked through what she could.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t access the vidscreen or the computer unit, and she soon gave up the fruitless attempt, despite her desire to know what went on in the world and on the Moon. By now, people had to know the Wolf had taken new captives, didn’t they?
Instead, she looked in the wardrobe, where she became completely distracted. It was full of clothes, obviously for her, and brand new. Had she ever worn something that had been brand new? Certainly, she’d never worn anything this expensive,other than cast-offs that no longer held the same value as she’d gotten them secondhand.
Trish hadn’t really paid attention to the outfit Jordan had put her in yesterday, but confronted with an entire closet full of new, high-quality clothing, it was impossible to ignore. The fabrics were soft under her fingers, the colors all light enough that none of them would wash her out, and the sizes were all made for someone of her height and basic measurements. Trish bit her lip as she realized that it was all tops, skirts, and dresses. There were no pants, shoes, or undergarments.
That made her feel more naked, and she quickly put on a flowing, white dress. It had the longest skirt of any of the pieces in the closet—not that it would be much protection, but at least it made her feel a little better.
Searching the bathroom didn’t come up with anything she could use as a weapon; not even a razor. There were several locked drawers, but Trish ended up leaving those alone as she didn’t want to be caught trying to get into them. She didn’t know when Jordan was due back but was strangely aware of time running out. Surely, he wasn’t planning on leaving her alone all day?
As if her thoughts had summoned him, Trish heard the door in the main room slide open.
“Babygirl?” A note of worry as well as sternness threaded through his voice.
Trish hurried back, worried that maybe she should take off her dress. That maybe he’d somehow know she’d tried to access the vidscreen and the computer unit.That he would be angry when he realized she’d thrown away the anal plug. Suddenly, every decision she’d made in the past half hour felt overwhelming and wrong.
“I’m here,” she squeaked, almost skidding to a halt in the other room, not wanting to approach him, but not wanting himto think she’d tried to run, either. She held her breath as his cold, blue eyes took in her attire, flashing with something like approval, and then she could breathe again.
“I like that dress on you, babygirl,” he said, coming over to her. She stood still, like prey frozen in the gaze of a predator, hands clenching her skirt because she didn’t know what else to do with them. Jordan’s fingers tipped up her chin, and he kissed her lips, lightly at first and then more firmly as he parted them beneath his to sweep his tongue into her mouth.
Trish shivered as his arm went around and pulled her against him. Her small breasts were flattened against his hard body, her skin tingling as his hand slid down to cup her bottom. When the kiss ended, she was breathless and anxious, unsure what he would do next. He kissed the tip of her nose. “I like the dress, but next time wait for me to dress you.”
She nodded without thinking and then felt horrified at her easy obedience. But how was she supposed to argue with a man so much larger and stronger than she was? His hand pulled up her skirt, palming her bottom, and she stiffened. The big, Viking-like man frowned down at her.
“What’s wrong?” His frown deepened when she avoided his gaze and concentrated on his chin. The hand on her bottom slid in, fingers probing her crack, and Trish winced. Jordan made a noise of disapproval as his fingers brushed over her crinkled and unplugged anus. He sighed as if disappointed, which made Trish feel strangely bad, but she pushed that notion away as nonsensical. “Oh, babygirl, I should have guessed you’d be naughty. Where’s your plug?”
For a moment she thought about not answering, but the tip of one finger pushed against her anus, pressing in and making her squeak and jump slightly, her body pressing against his more firmly as she tried to escape the probing. But he was so big and hard it was like pressing against a wall—there was nowherefor her to go. With only a little excess lube still in her tight hole, the invasion of his finger was acutely uncomfortable, although not exactly painful.
“I threw it away,” she whispered quickly, before his finger could wriggle deeper. She pressed her face against his chest, clutching to his shirt because she didn’t want to see his expression. She felt more than heard his sigh this time.
“Well, I guess that means you’re ready for the next size up.”
She barely had a moment to comprehend before Trish found herself lifted over his shoulder and carried into the bathroom.
“No, no wait, please,” she begged, squirming against the big hand holding her firmly on his shoulder. “It’s just in the trash, I can get it out, I can clean it?—”
“Oh, no babygirl.” He put her down and pushed her into the same position she’d been in the day before: bent over and facing the mirror so she could see her already pink-rimmed eyes as tears welled, her pouting lower lip. “You were naughty and you need to be punished. You threw away your plug—that means you get the next size up. Now if you keep protesting, you can have a spanking to go with your new plug.”
That quieted her quickly as he tapped his paddle-like hand against her backside, reminding her just how much a spanking from him hurt. Immediately, Trish pressed her lips together, biting back any more pleas. She doubted it would deter him and didn’t want to add a spanking onto what would already be an unpleasant punishment.
Completely ignoring the trash, Jordan opened one of the locked drawers Trish hadn’t been able to get into. Which was probably for the best, as she would have been tempted to throw everything in it into the garbage. And she didn’t want to think about what the punishment for that might have been.
Meeting her eyes in the mirror, he straightened and held up a long, black plug with a fat bulb. It was noticeably larger than theone she’d removed earlier, and Trish almost missed the smaller one she’d thrown away. In his other hand, he held the small tube of lubricant, and she closed her eyes as he opened it and began to put a thin coating of the shining substance over the plug, preparing it to go into her asshole.
Trish pressed her hands flat against the cool surface of the counter and took in a deep breath, trying to ignore Jordan’s presence and activity. That only worked until her skirt was lifted up, and she made a little whimpering noise of fear.
“Open your eyes, babygirl,” he said, giving her clit a little pinch at the same time.
Trish let out an inarticulate cry as her eyes flew open, dismayed but not surprised she would be forced to watch her ordeal again. The little nubbin between her legs throbbed in a way she hated as Jordan moved behind her. One hand pressed fingers between her cheeks, spreading them open, and Trish’s breath hitched in anxiety.
