He hummed deep in his chest, still smiling down at me. ‘Tell me, private.’ ‘You own me, sir,’ I said, even more softly than before. He groaned...again, squeezing me tightly and latching his mouth onto mine. Inside me, his cock exploded from limp to fully erect. ‘Again. Again!’ he demanded, sucking at my lips and chin. ‘You own me, sir.’ My voice was stronger now, more firm. His hands went to my ass, tugging me under him for better penetration. ‘Tell me,’ he ordered again, licking and nipping. He said to Gus Yore, in an ordinary voice when I thought he ought to whisper, "Take some men down to that next intersection, that's Bridge Street I think," and Gus took a half dozen and headed on toward the river, walking their horses. Then Beckwith looked at me, pointed to the door and said, "Bust it down."I looked at the latch and lifted my right foot and kicked it open. It didn't splinter, just popped. "Who's the bloody hell's that?" somebody inside yelled as three of us tried to get through. More

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