“Poor baby,” Jack crooned, running his hand over her warm, red cheeks. “You do feel a little warm here. But, since you’re being punished, it wouldn’t be prudent of me to reward you with an orgasm, now would it?” Even as he said that, he ran his fingers in a light caress over her dripping slit before entering her just far enough to feel the tight clasp of her slick walls.
“But,” she protested, twisting to glare up at him, “you enjoyed our snowball fight, and you won!”
“Still, I was tired and cold and didn’t want to play right then. But you ignored my warning to stop. Now that I’ve warmed you up, I think I’ll cool you off again.”
Remembering the ice on her nipples, Morgan cringed as she saw Jack reach behind him, just outside the gazebo, and scoop up snow. “No, Jack!” she cried out while trying to roll off his lap, but he was too fast and too strong for her.
Relishing his immense enjoyment at her expense, Jack grabbed her around the waist, held her down, and rubbed snow onto her red, squirming buttocks, her curses ringing in his ears. A few more hard swats on her snow-covered ass increased her struggles and complaints but several more and his threat to continue until she stopped had her lying in a docile heap over his lap. Taking pity on her shivering form, he let her up, pulled her jeans over her wet, sore ass, and grinned up into her scowling face. “All done, princess.”
“Don’t you ‘princess’ me, you big jerk. My ass is sore and freezing and you owe me an orgasm.” Turning, she stomped into the lodge, ignoring all of them.
“She’s got a temper,” Marc said as he walked with Jack back into the lodge. “And a nice ass.”
“Yes, she does.” Jack’s little tussle had invigorated him and made him hard. Then again, Morgan didn’t have to do much to get an erection out of him.
“Do you have plans for her tonight?”
“Yeah, I’ve got something in mind. Want to help?” When Marc hesitated, Jack asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I just don’t want to see you make the same mistake I did. If this is serious between you two, how far do you want the sharing to go?”
“Shit, sorry, Marc. I wasn’t thinking.” Jack had been there the night Marc had planned to share Cassie with him, and he had been there in the days following, supporting his friend through the anguish of knowing he had pushed her too hard too fast. Cassie had been too young and naïve to see Marc’s actions weren’t because he didn’t care, but because he cared so much he wanted to give her the ultimate pleasure of having two men. “Morgan’s not Cassie and we have a lengthy history behind us, as you’ve repeatedly mentioned. She knows how much I care, and that there’s nothing I won’t do for her. To answer your question, I intended to just torture her some more today with your help until I have her on the cross tonight. I figure between the two of us, we can have her so frustrated and ready for an orgasm, she won’t think twice about me taking her in public.”
“I think I can help you with that.” Smiling, they entered the lodge in search of their prey.
Chapter Seven
Thinking there had to be something perversely wrong with her to get turned on by such humiliating, uncomfortable treatment, Morgan stripped out of her damp clothes. The shock of cold snow on top of heated smacks numbed her buttocks and her mind until irritation broke through. Then to leave her hanging only added insult to injury. Their amusement at her expense had her cursing both men as she dried off, rubbing the towel up and down her chilled body with brisk, jerky movements. She was still swearing when Jack strolled into the bedroom. “I did not enjoy that, Jack,” she snapped, irritated to see a lack of remorse while she stood there freezing.
“Poor baby,” he crooned. “Here, let me help get you warm.”
Sidestepping his outstretched hand, she grumbled, “I don’t need your help.”
“Morgan.”
Damn it. Why did that warning tone have to replace the lingering chill in her body with heated awareness? Yes, it was definite there was something wrong with her. “My butt hurts.”
Her petulant reply made Jack smile. Snatching the towel from her, he rubbed the nubby cloth over her breasts, adding pressure in a circular motion over her nipples before moving down her waist. Kneeling, he draped the towel over his palm and ran it up between her legs, his grin widening when she parted them without instruction.
Bracing her hands on his big shoulders as he rubbed between her legs, she was unable to stifle a moan when his ministrations added to her frustrating, unfulfilled desire. She warmed inside and out, his hot breath on her thigh adding to her arousal in a way she didn’t need. In an unconscious gesture, she thrust her pelvis forward, a silent plea for more she had no control over.
Chuckling, Jack rose, drew his arms around her as he switched the towel to her ass, and rubbed her buttocks as his mouth took hers in a demanding, wet kiss. When she melted against him, her pelvis grinding against the rigid length of his cock, he pulled away, draped the towel over her shoulders, and quipped, “There. I think you’re all warmed up now. Slip on my shirt and come help me with dinner.” The damp towel hit him in the back as he made a speedy exit, her curses following him out of the room.
Morgan was tempted to lock herself in the bathroom and relieve her frustration herself, but the mention of food reminded her of her other unfulfilled hunger. She obeyed Jack by slipping his shirt on, but added a dry pair of jeans under it, knowing it would piss him off.
“What’re we having?” she asked, strolling into the kitchen barefoot.
Jack looked up from chopping potatoes and tossing them into a large pot. He frowned, noticing her jeans, then laid his knife down and moved toward her with slow, measured steps.
Morgan backed away from him, not trusting the gleam in his eyes. Backing into a hard body put an abrupt halt to her retreat and Marc’s arms circling her from behind made sure she stayed in place.
“Now what has she done?” Marc asked before he ran his lips up the side of her neck.
“She put on jeans when I specifically told her to put on my shirt.” Jack stopped in front of her, smiling at her look of defiance. Something had happened while he was out earlier to make Morgan act out, and if he were to guess, he bet she’d received another call from one of her parents. She was always at her brattiest or her quietest after a confrontation with her mother or father. “Take off the jeans, Morgan,” he ordered, his soft, warning tone giving her no quarter.
“I’m still cold and I only have to bow down to your will when it comes to sex, and since we’re not having sex, I’ll wear what I want.” But hopefully we’ll have sex soon, she thought, Marc’s lean hard body bracing her adding fuel to a fire already blazing hot.
“I think she needs some help, Jack.” Marc kept his left arm tight around her waist as he unsnapped her jeans.