Savage Impulses Read Online Free PDF Page B

and that was before he
even raked his blunt nails down her flanks, making her yelp.
    “That didn't hurt,” he laughed.
    When she thought about it, she realized he
was right. She tried to twist her head to see what he was doing,
but he had tied her too well. She could turn her head to lie it
flat on the mattress, but that was all she could do, lay down and
experience the sensations he was giving her.
    She squirmed as he ran his fingernails over
her back and her flanks, and then she gasped when she felt
something sharp prickle its way over her bare skin.
    “That's a spur,” he told her. “My brother
gave them to me, but you know, I could never bear to wear them when
I rode Tamu.”
    “Why- why not?” Marigold gasped as the sharp
prickles trailed across her back to run over the insanely sensitive
skin at the side of her breast. When she tried to roll even a
little to protect herself, it only exposed her flank to the second
spur, which had even more access to her body than the first one
had.
    “Because Tamu is clever. She's a fine mare
who learns after only being told once, and she responds to a word
or a whistle. She's never been so headstrong that she needs spurs
dug into her side.”
    On the last word, he pressed the spurs a
little deeper into her flesh. She knew that it wasn't deep enough
to draw blood or even to do more than to make her cry out, but it
was startling to her nonetheless.
    “You're very lucky with your horse.”
    Jake made an approving sound, and then he ran
the spurs from her shoulders to the curve of her rear, leaving two
tingling tracks in their wake.
    “I am,” he agreed. “I don't seem to have
gotten as lucky with my woman.”
    She might have protested being called his
woman, but then he was moving down her body. The spurs, which had
been just shy of unbearable on her back, became something more
pleasurable but also more maddening as he ran them over the insides
her thighs. He ran them down to her knees and then up again, and
she held her breath as he brought them achingly close to her sex,
which was already humiliatingly wet for him.
    “You love a little bit of pain with your
pleasure,” he said softly. “Are you one of the women who need
it?”
    She whimpered, but a memory flashed through
her mind, one so vivid that it was like she was there again.
    “What?”
    When she made no reply, he dug the spurs a
little more harshly into her hips.
    She cried out, bucking up helplessly.
    “I asked you a question,” he said, all silky
menace. “You're beginning to see what happens to spoiled little
mares who don't obey, aren't you?”
    Marigold remained still, but she could
imagine him narrowing his dark eyes at her silence.
    “Was it a memory of a past lover?” he asked
sharply.
    “I didn't have one,” she said indignantly,
but that only earned her a brisk slap to the rear. She had been
wrong when she thought that there was no pain left. The sharp slap
woke up the pain there, bringing back a hot echo of what it had
felt like to be turned over the fence and swatted.
    She whimpered, but it took a second sharp
prod with the spurs before she could finally speak.
    “It... it was when I was working as a
charwoman at one of the inns in Bristol,” she managed. “I spent all
day going up and down the stairs, carrying buckets, changing
sheets, and seeing to things.”
    “Seeing to things... like the men there?”
    “No!” she cried furiously. “It was a clean
place, and, believe it or not, I was a good woman, or at least I
was before I came to America. Now do you want to hear me or
no?”
    “I do,” he said.
    She wondered if there was something contrite
about the way he said it. Perhaps he was beginning to believe her
protestations of virtue, but she doubted it. “One day, I was going
up and I heard.. I heard some people talking. It was a man and a
woman, and they were engaging in.. in...”
    “They were fucking,” Jake guessed.
    When she nodded, he rewarded her with a
gentle finger traced