Her ankles were tied to the low posts at each corner of the foot and pillows beneath her buttocks elevated her pussy. When they’d arrived at Nick’s home, she’d been stunned to realize it was not even ten o’clock. So much had happened, had assaulted her senses and her brain, that she was sure it must be close to morning. But no, here they were in his bedroom and rather than being intimidated about what he had in mind, resentful of his obvious desire to dominate, she found herself so aroused her body almost quivered. Nick sat naked cross-legged between her thighs, cradling a bowl of warm water against his stomach. He’d sprayed every inch of her mound with cooling shaving gel and now was using slow strokes to remove every bit of pubic hair. At first she’d been nervous about it but then she thought, Now I’m nervous? That should have been the first night we met. Or the moment we entered Peregrine. “Nervous” no longer described how she felt. She was, in fact, embarrassed to feel liquid seeping from her vagina, evidence of her instant arousal.
