Satisfied, he returned to Ara, and put his hand to the small of her back. He dare not trust himself to touch her lower. He knew he would have no compunction not to fondle if he did. "Come, if we walk, I have no need to cover your eyes." He opened a door at the rear of the room. Concealed in the elaborately carved wooden wall, only he and a chosen trusted few knew of it. He could tell Ara had questions, but she wisely did not ask them. Or was it wise? Felton admitted to himself he would have liked a reason to spank her until she was rosy red, and bore the imprint of his hand. Such a sight, with one he now realized he was very fond of, would be more than acceptable and an interesting start to a session of mutual enjoyment. He wondered if he would ever confess the machinations of her late husband to her? Certainly not soon, he decided as he led the way down a well light, narrow staircase. The candles fluttered as they passed them and created a breeze. Their shadows shifted and reformed in their illuminations.
