Caged Read Online Free Page A

that from her; it wanted to take comfort in and from her, too.
    It would be a challenge, especially since he’d just blistered her, but then he’d always loved challenges.
    He loved winning them most of all, he thought, kicking his boots off so that they thudded to the floor off the end of the bed.
    Rachel had forced herself to gradually allow her bottom to come in contact with the bed, as much as it hurt, simply because she couldn’t maintain that arched position for very long anyway.  When his hand came to rest on her tummy, about halfway between her breasts and other parts of her person that she did not want him to come in contact with even more than her bare stomach, she began to try to drive her bottom through the bed and down onto the floor in order to get out from under his touch.  Any amount of discomfort would be worth it if she could avoid being molested again.
    It didn’t work.  Nothing did.  When she tried to wiggled closer to the wall, not only did his hand follow her, but he also casually draped one of those enormous thighs over her, and when he found he couldn’t quite manage to put it between her legs, his hand drifted down to pry her thighs apart, returning to its spot on her tummy as soon as he was able to wrap a leg around the closest one of hers and clench his thighs, forcing hers inexorably apart as he brought his leg around it.
    Rachel was certain that the nightmare was beginning again and her wails reached a true fever pitch, especially when she glanced down and saw one of his big paws reaching for her breasts.
    “ Please don’t hurt me !”  As much as she tried to stifle that pitiful plea, it escaped through her lips anyway.
    Her eyes were wide as saucers, her body taut, as if she expected that he was going to rip her tit off or something, when nothing could have been further from his mind.  It had always been so apparent to him, even with his first woman, that it was a better experience overall if the woman were at least somewhat ready for him. He’d learned—with some very eager partners who were everything from whores to society ladies—how to make that happen for them, even if some women didn’t seem to be able to enjoy it quite as much as others.
    He was hoping this Missus was one of the ones that could allow herself to feel the fullest extent of her pleasure—he was certainly going to try to make sure that she did, although, considering her reaction it was going to be just that much harder to do.
    If he allowed himself to think about her terrified reaction—and he wasn’t going to do that—his first reaction was to want to do great bodily harm to whoever it was that had made her so frightened, whoever had obviously hurt her, even though he had just lit viciously into her backside not more than ten minutes ago.  But he’d had a very good reason—he hadn’t just been doing it for his own amusement—not that it hadn’t made him hard, it had.  But there was more to it for him.  He would have bet everything he owned—which, granted didn’t appear to be much at the moment—that there had been no such altruistic motives for the man whose name was probably Mr. Hemmingway.
    Instead of soothing her as he might have if their circumstances had been different, he simply set about showing her that he wasn’t going to hurt her by very gently plucking at nipples that were far from the hardened peaks he was used to seeing, although after he very carefully tended to them and coaxed them out, they stood as high and proud as he could have wished.
    And the little Missus was no longer crying.  Her eyes were still wide and edged with fear as she continued to pant nervously, and she still tried to shrink away from his touch, but he could see the changes beginning already, although he knew she wasn’t going to like that she liked it.
    And he adored that dichotomy in a woman, especially when he could drive her past her natural resistance.
    He wondered what she would be like in her