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he used his thumb to trace slow erotic circles over the skin
between her thumb and forefinger. They tickled, tingled, and made her pulse
jump.
    "You
are adept at keeping me busy so I have had no time to question you until now. I
allowed that perhaps you needed those days to, to assimilate what I want. Now I
need to know the results of your deliberations."
    He
sounded oh so proper. Seonagh clicked her tongue quietly. Give in or give up
time.
    "I've
filled it in, Sir. One moment.” She wiped her clammy
hands on her skirt as she went inside to get the information she'd submitted.
Oh, for a large glass of wine. However as Claudio—rightly—wouldn't drink and
drive the best she could do was sniff the elderflower cordial.
    Three
minutes later she went back outside with the papers in her hands and passed it
to him. He nodded and pointed to the cushion on the grass. "How
long until we get bitten in all the wrong ways?"
    Seonagh
bent her legs and sat on the cushion. She'd suspected he might want to set the
scene, so to speak, and she was happy with that. Whether he'd be happy with her
answers to his questions was another matter entirely.
    "Midges?" She checked her watch and
squinted toward the sun. "A couple of hours. The
little buggers won't get annoying until the sun goes down behind those trees at
the end of the garden. Oh and I feel buggers is a perfectly acceptable
description there, Sir, not an epithet."
    Claudio
laughed, as she hoped he would. "I'll give you that, kitten. They are
indeed little buggers. Not that I'm bothered by them, but I bet you are."
    "Yeah,"
Seonagh said, morosely. "They see me from five miles away, rub their wings
together and shout ‘oy there's dinner.’ Even that famous skin moisturizer
beloved by forestry workers and the armed forces alike only staves them off for
a while. And increases their annoyance when they permeate its
shield. I've accepted I'm a watch the outside from inside during summer evenings kind of person."
    "Pity. So there'll be no outside
playing then?"" He tugged one red curl on the top of her head.
"No bondage and orgasm torture au naturel?"
    "Not
if you don't want me marked for the wrong reasons, Sir. Seriously, Even now I'm
itching. That'll be blooming ants or sommat. I was the only person at pony club
who could come home after mucking out, with a map of Australia in bites, on my
tummy." She shook her head. "Not even Scotland, I ask you. Do you
think the mites were trying to tell me something?"
    He
looked up from the third sheet of paper. "Like
emigrating? I'm glad they didn’t. It's a long way to get you to crawl on
your knees from."
    "I'm
sorry?"
    "Crawl
on your knees. Like now. Into the
house. Kitten, were you deliberately baiting me?" He waved the
questionnaire at her. "Now move."

 
    Chapter Six
     
    Move.
    Would
she? It was a gamble, and he didn't really think her evasive answers were
really brattiness, just confusion. However, a straightforward I do not
understand, or I do not know would have been preferable to the snide, who
knows, who would, and, er you what? But at least it meant he got to play. A
little of his dominant self on show wouldn't come amiss. He'd been so vanilla
over the last few days, he almost asked her if she wanted a cornet or a tub.
    Seonagh
glanced up at him confusion in her expression. "Crawl as in how? Where?
Why? Sir."
    "On
all fours, like the kitten I say you are. You may also purr, but sheath the
claws. Or I might take it upon me to sheath them for you." The look of
astonishment, the way her eyes widened and her breath sped up was satisfying. "Into the house." He judged it was around ten
yards and all on grass. As he often said, he might be a sadist, but he wasn't
cruel. Gravel or concrete would give unnecessary pain. "Why? Because I
want to see you on all fours, your ass wiggle and your tits jiggle as you
move." He didn't add, as he wanted to, and 'once inside I'll have that
skirt off and your ass and cunt bare to my sight as
soon as I can'.