The Postilion (The Masqueraders #2) - S.M. LaViolette Page 0,75

gave her a gentle push inside.

“What are we doing here?” she asked as he fumbled with a flint to light the branch of candles on a table beside the door.

“Waitin’.”

“For what?

“Never you mind.”

The candles flared to life, illuminating her new prison. They were standing in a small parlor that had two doors that must lead to bedrooms. Directly across from them was a doorless entryway that led to a kitchen.

“You ’ungry?”

“No. But I need to use the pot.”

He led her to one of the doors and opened it, exposing a small bedchamber with nothing but a rustic bureau, metal bedstead, and a plain ceramic chamber pot in one corner. Once he’d lighted the three candles on the dresser he gestured to the pot. “Go on.”

“Can you at least untie my hands?”

He hesitated and then gave his characteristic shrug. “You try anyfing and I’ll—”

“Make me sorry. Yes, I know.”

As thick as his fingers were, he still managed to make quick work of the rope.

Benna rubbed her wrists and flexed her fingers; at least they weren’t numb like before. “Surely you don’t need to stay and watch? We’re all the way out here, where could I go?”

He grinned, and the dark glint in his eyes made her breath freeze in her chest. “I’m thinkin’ mebbe I want to watch—get a gander at that cunny ’is lordship is so des-puh-rate for.” He jerked his chin toward the chamber pot. “Go on, drop your breeches and show us what you got. I ain’t all niffy-naffy like yon fine gen’elman you was wiff, I don’t mind watching a lass ’ave a piss.”

This is your chance, Benna.

Geoff’s voice was so loud that she startled and glanced around her.

But no, it was just the two of them. And the unwanted voice was right; this was her chance.

She forced herself to smile—the sort of sultry expression she’d seen but never attempted to emulate—and then she brazenly inspected his body, allowing her eyes to linger on the terrifying bulge in his grubby breeches.

Swallowing down her bile, she deliberately licked her lips.

Willy’s big body stiffened, all of it. He chuckled, his chest moving faster. “Pantin’ for it, ain’tcha?”

“From what I can see of you, I’m guessing you strip to advantage, Willy,” she said, shuddering at the hunger in his gaze. “Why don’t you drop your breeches and show me Big Willy?” She grinned. “And I’ll give you a taste of why the earl is so eager to get me back.

Willy threw back his head and roared, his hands at his placket before she’d even finished speaking.

“You’re a one, you!” he said when he brought his head back down. “I like that—Big Willy,” he chuckled, not taking his eyes from her as he shoved down his breeches.

Willy wasn’t wearing any drawers and the monster he freed made even his big hand look small. He gave himself a brutal pump. “I could see what ye wanted the minnit I first saw ye,” he said, his voice even lower and raspier than normal. “A real man, not a weakling toff.”

Benna was unable to tear her eyes off the beast in his fist. Good. God. It was like a fence post.

“Come ’ere,” he ordered gruffly.

That first step toward him was the hardest she’d ever taken.

He was only two strides away, but before Benna could drop to her knees he grabbed her hair with his free hand and jerked her head back hard enough to make her eyes water.

“Don’t try nuffink on me, girlie,” he growled, his breath hot and fetid on her skin. “’Is lordship never said you needed to ’ave all yer teef.”

Benna gave him a confident, smirking look that she was far from feeling and sank to her knees, her right hand already fumbling in her pocket.

“Go on,” he said, holding his cock around the base and pushing out his hips, making himself look twice as long and utterly terrifying.

Benna swallowed, said a prayer that she didn’t vomit, and opened her mouth as wide as she could, flicking open her knife.

Willy grabbed her hair again. This time, instead of jerking her head back, he forced himself deep.

Benna gagged, her eyes streaming tears.

He gave a grunt of pleasure, holding her still.

Quit struggling and stay calm; you can hold your breath far longer than this—we both know that for a fact. And for God’s sake don’t bite him.

Yet.

Benna willed herself to quit fighting. It would be pointless in any case as his grip was like iron.

Above her, he chuckled and slowly withdrew. “Big Willy’s