Part of her wanted to turn to him, to ask him what these good things were, and could she please get a demonstration now?
No, bad Keira.
You don’t need to know.
Also, it might not include him kneeling between her spread legs and licking her pussy.
Yeah, that would be quite the disappointment.
“Here, hold my hand.”
He held his hand out to her again, and this time, she slipped her hand into his. It was odd to have someone support her like this. She still wasn’t sure of his motives, but for the moment she wasn’t going to turn him down. She’d deal with the outcome later if it came back to bite her in the ass.
His hand was warm and dry with calluses. It felt strong. Steady. Dependable.
Keira, stop it.
“Okay, good girl, now open your mouth,” Zander crooned.
Seriously. He really had to stop it. These were her last pair of clean panties and now they were soaked through. She had no idea why she liked being called a good girl, but it was like damn catnip. If she started rolling around on her back in pleasure, well, she wasn’t going to be surprised.
Mortified, yes.
Shocked, no.
And she found herself opening her mouth.
“That’s a good girl,” Zander murmured. Was he trying to make her self-combust? Was it possible to come just from words alone? “I think I’ve found your sweet spot, haven’t I?”
What was he talking about? She wasn’t sure, but she was starting to tense as Webb placed the tongue depressor in her mouth. The pen light blinded her for a brief moment before he aimed it in the right direction.
“You’re being such a good girl. Sitting there nice and still for us. I’m so proud of you.”
Holy. Shit.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this turned on. Maybe never.
A murmur escaped her. But it was one of pleasure rather than fear or pain.
Embarrassment immediately flooded her. Did they know?
Please let them think that moan was about something else. Please.
“Someone likes to be praised,” Zander whispered. “Do you have a praise kink?”
What the fuck was a praise kink?
Before she could ponder that, Webb removed the tongue depressor. Ew. Those things just felt so gross. She immediately closed her mouth.
“I hate having things in my mouth,” she muttered.
“That’s a shame,” Zander replied.
Was that . . . was that a joke?
She turned to stare at him, but his face remained impassive. Maybe he hadn’t meant that the way it sounded.
Although she had her suspicions.