Beyond Temptation by Lisette Ashton Page B

with this thistle?’ Amelia asked carefully.
    Christian made a small sound that she didn’t understand. Not that it mattered. She could tell by his nervous expression that he knew exactly what her intentions were. His muffled grunt told her he was dreading what she had in store.
    With a wicked smile, Amelia drew the head of the thistle against his balls.
    Christian stiffened. His entire body was held rigid as he tried not to pull away.
    ‘Tell me that feels nice,’ Amelia encouraged him.
    His breath was harsh. The strangled gasp barely contained his obvious unhappiness. ‘Nice,’ he gulped, wrenching the word from between clenched teeth. ‘That feels nice.’
    She chuckled.
    ‘Then I’ll do it some more for you.’
    Without waiting for his response, Amelia stroked the head of the thistle firmly against his scrotum. The prickly leaves caught in the protective hairs around his sac and she frowned. It pleased her that the spines on the stem scored red lines on the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. She could imagine the pain was sharp and cruel and enough to bring tears to his eyes.
    But, to her mind, Christian wasn’t suffering enough.
    She brushed the stem against his anus, taking grim pleasure from his staggered sigh of discomfort. And, after brushing it against his ring for a second time, Amelia decided she wanted more.
    ‘Stand up and turn around,’ she snapped.
    He did as she instructed, facing her with a wary expression. His hands hovered protectively over his erection.
    ‘You shouldn’t be doing this,’ he complained. ‘Yale has always said that we shouldn’t have marks or scars.’
    His voice quickened as he warmed to this theme. She could hear that the idea had only just occurred to him but he was now prepared to hide behind it as though it was some sort of talisman.
    ‘Yale says that he can’t paint us if we’ve got …’
    ‘Yale isn’t here,’ Amelia reminded him.
    Christian fell silent. He looked cowed and broken.
    ‘Move your hands,’ she demanded.
    He tried to do so but fear made it impossible for Christian to leave himself defenceless. Each time Amelia took a step towards him, he held himself protectively again.
    A warning light flashed in her eyes. She wasn’t used to being defied like this and she glared at him resentfully. She didn’t suppose her fierce expression was helping but she was beyond calming her own natural reaction to his disobedience.
    Christian was beginning to infuriate her.
    ‘Stand still!’
    He shook his head. ‘I’m trying, but you scare me.’
    ‘Spineless maggot,’ she murmured. Glancing over his shoulder, she looked at the motor home. The temptation was to go inside, secure him to a bed and punish him for this cowardice. But Amelia wanted to do more than that, and she was unwilling to forsake the sweet heather-scented aroma of the morning air. The slightly open door gave her an idea and she began to bark instructions at him.
    ‘Put your back against that door. Then grab the top of it.’
    He did as she asked. A look of mistrust strained his features as he held himself exposed for her. Because of his height he was able to hold the top of the door without stretching too much but the position raised his shirttails away from his exposed cock.
    Amelia nodded, satisfied.
    She stepped closer to him. She could see he wanted to protect himself but, because his hands now had something to do, he was able to resist the temptation. The sounds of metal groaning against metal told her that the hinge was protesting at his weight, but that consideration didn’t weigh too greatly on her thoughts. She still held the thistle in a hand protected by the cuff of her jacket. She offered the flower to Christian like a lover presenting a token to her betrothed. The dusky purple head of the thistle drooped lightly at the end of the stem.
    As she watched, she saw a glistening ball of pre-come growing over the eye of Christian’s cock. ‘Which of us did you prefer?’ Amelia