So I slowed, leaving my hand still touching myself, eventually pausing as requested. Waiting. "Wipe yourself up." I arched my eyebrows. "With the napk...n." Was he serious? It seemed that way, his calm exterior patiently awaiting my compliance. I brought my sticky hand atop the pressed linen in my lap, spread my thighs and pushed down and inward once more. The cloth began to absorb my wetness and I gently stroked the area, using the touches as an excuse to continue elevating myself. Why had he. Ty had settled in one of the comfortable leather chairs scattered across the hardwood floor of the lobby by the time I came down the staircase. It was a huge, wide-open space of open-framed timber and deep carpet. An array of stuffed animals lined the walls, giving the place a rustic appeal.He was right in front of an absolutely monstrous fireplace sunk low in one of the deep leather seats. Dad used to tell me that they roasted boar in it when he was a boy and I could believe it.Ty rose. More

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