Anticipation tingles through me as Jasce opens the door, and we walk into the well-lit space. Ten stalls line the walls, each one occupied by a magnificent horse.
Jasce addresses one of the stable hands. “Ready Vesper.”
The man nods and begins to prepare the mare for our journey. Once he finishes, and we’re all alone, Jasce moves to Vesper and strokes the mare’s neck.
“This is Vesper. She’ll carry us both.”
I glance up at Jasce and grin at him. “Is this all an elaborate scheme to get me alone with you?”
Merriment dances in his eyes, a mischievous glint that sends a delicious shiver racing down my spine. “Of course, but you weren’t supposed to guess my nefarious plan quite so quickly.”
“Scoundrel,” I accuse with mock severity. “However, shall I punish you for your wicked ways?”
He leans in close, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. “You could try hitting me, but I must warn you, I might enjoy it far too much.”
“Then.” I tap my index finger against my bottom lip as I think. “I’ll shall have to be more creative with my punishment.”
“Like what?” He grips my hips and pulls me against him. “What will you do to me?”
“Well…I could tie you up, then strip right in front of you.” Heat warms my face at the thought of being so bold with him.
“Then, what would you do?” His eyes darken with desire, the golden flecks in his brown irises smoldering like embers. His grip tightens on my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh through the fabric of my surcoat, as if he’s barely restraining himself from ripping the garment off me right then and there.
“I…” I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Would you touch yourself?”
I gulp and shake my head as he picks me up and helps me on Vesper’s back.
“Scoot forward,” he says, and I obey, sliding forward enough for him to mount the horse.
He settles behind me, takes the horse’s reins, and encourages her to leave the stables. My heart drums in my ears as we move into the open field, and Jasce drops one of his hands to my thigh.
“You should touch yourself, Annora.”
“I thought we were done with that conversation?”
“We’re not.” Boldly, he shifts to holding the reins with one hand and uses the other to slide up my surcoat enough to slip his hand between my legs. “I want you to touch yourself right here.”
“Right now?” I squeak out.
“Yes.” Before I can protest, he grabs my hand and brings it to the juncture between my thighs. “Start with leaving your undergarments on.”
“Jasce…”
He grips my hand and moves it against the silk material between my legs. “Do you like that?”
“Y-yes.” I lick my bottom lip.
His hand leaves mine, but his presence remains as a lingering warmth against my back. I take a shaky breath and continue moving my fingers, the fabric of my undergarments adding a layer of tantalizing friction.
“Yes,” he breathes against my ear, giving me an approval that sends shivers down my spine. “Good.”
I let out a soft gasp, the sensation altogether new and overwhelming. I’m doing this. I’m touching myself. Under Jasce’s guidance, yes, but it is ultimately me.
My fingers move on their own accord now, growing bolder with each stroke. Strangely, the fabric of my undergarments only heightens the sensation, the slight friction sending electric jolts through my body with every movement.
“Move your fingers in circles,” he instructs.
