My snog today comes from Getaway Girl, an early flirtation with British and light bondage themes.
All that Peg wants is a break, a bit of adventure, a relief from her mundane existence in the buccolic but boring Yorkshire hamlet of Kirkby Malzeard. When dashing, sophisticated journalist Lionel Hayes saunters into the pub where she's tending bar, Peg suspects that he was just the sort of man to fulfill her fantasies of escape.
The seductive Lionel, however, is not what he seems. Before she knows it, Peg is a hostage, roped and gagged, speeding away from the scene of a daring crime. Lionel is armed and dangerous, but somehow Peg still wants him - regardless of the consequences.
The seductive Lionel, however, is not what he seems. Before she knows it, Peg is a hostage, roped and gagged, speeding away from the scene of a daring crime. Lionel is armed and dangerous, but somehow Peg still wants him - regardless of the consequences.
Jack slumped down on the
couch. Within sixty seconds he was unconscious, snoring loudly.
Lionel stuffed the gun into his waist and leaned down to shake his
accomplice. “Jack! Wake up, Jack!” The growl of Jack’s snores
didn’t alter.
Peg began to edge
backwards. Lionel grabbed her shoulders, his fingers biting into her
flesh. “What did you do to him?”
“Me? I didn’t do
anything.”
The thief slid his hands down and gripped her wrists, trapping them. “You minx! Don’t lie to me.” Holding her wrists behind her with his right hand, he leaned over and picked up Jack’s glass. A white sludge coated the bottom. He held it up in front of her face.
“Okay, okay. I dumped the
remains of my gran’s sleeping pills into the whisky. It won’t
hurt him. Meanwhile, while he’s asleep, I thought that you and I
might talk.” Peg pressed her body up against Lionel’s, trying to
be provocative while controlling her own arousal. “Perhaps I can
convince you to let me go.” His grip on her wrists tightened
ominously.
His heat penetrated the light fabric of her blouse. She rubbed her breasts against his blazer, wishing despite her best intentions that the two of them were naked. She could feel two hard lumps poking into her abdomen, the unyielding steel of the gun, and lower down, the equally rigid bulk of his erection. A shiver ran through her. She knew that she was playing a dangerous game.
“You’re not going
anywhere, Margaret. For the time being, I plan to keep you right
here.” Before she knew what was happening, Lionel had picked her
up and thrown her over his shoulder again. She yelped in protest. His
arm clamped down across the backs of her thighs.
“Put me down,
you—imposter!” Peg tried to kick, but her legs were effectively
immobilised. She beat on his back with her fists, but he ignored her
assault as he carried her up the twisty, narrow stairs to the bedroom
under the eaves.
Despite her anger and fear, she found herself amazed by his strength. She was nearly ten stone, yet he lifted her as easily as if she’d been a child.
Lionel tossed her body onto the bed. She sank into the old mattress, raising a cloud of dust that made her sneeze. Her captor turned the key in the lock, then returned to face her, grinning that outrageous, irresistible grin.
“We don’t want to wake
poor old Jack, do we?” He held up the hank of twine from the bar.
“I plan to make completely sure that you don’t escape.”
Peg was suddenly dizzy with desire. She fought for rationality.
“You don’t have to tie
me up. I won’t try to get away.” But he was already removing her
shoes and fastening her left ankle to the iron bedstead.
He paused and searched her face for a moment, then bent and ran his tongue slowly over her bare instep. The wet heat swept over her extremities, rose to her belly, turned her whole body to liquid. Peg writhed on the old bed, unable to hide her reactions.
By the time she had recovered, her thighs were spread and both feet were bound. Lionel leaned over her, once more grasping both her wrists in his large hand. He raised them over her head, looped the twine around them, then fastened it to the metal pipes that made up the headboard.
“You don’t understand,
Margaret dear. I want to tie you up.” He fastened his lips on
hers, those lush, soft lips of his that held such promise. Now those
lips were demanding, urgent, stealing her breath, consuming her,
claiming her. The kiss went on forever, yet ended too soon. Lionel
nibbled at her earlobe, whispered in her ear.
“That’s what you want,
too.”
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