His Little Tart by Sindra van Yssel Read Free Book Online Page B

fiddle with her phone before setting it back in her purse. She didn’t look at him again as she backed over the grass that served as the parking lot. He walked toward Bondage Ranch. The day was young. He could find someone else to play with for the evening, probably. He wasn’t entirely sure why he didn’t feel like doing exactly that.
    On Sunday evening, when it was all over, he had a flight to catch. Nonstop to London, where he had a chance to invest in an online publishing start-up, if the business plan looked solid. Then he’d go to Holland to visit his grandmother, who had raised him after his parents split up when he was small. Pushing ninety, her mind was still razor sharp, and she prided herself on her self-sufficiency, but she always had a few little repair jobs saved for him. After that, if everything worked out, Singapore for another business opportunity, and then possibly Tokyo. He’d stay at the finest hotels—with the exception of his grandmother’s house—and eat at the finest restaurants, not that they could beat Oma’s home cooking.
    He stopped at the front door and decided he wasn’t in the mood for company.
    Alex would want to quiz him about Constance, and he didn’t have the answers to her questions. He walked around the house, intending to take a stroll in the woods.
    He passed the stocks, where Mistress Sue had a new guy he didn’t recognize trapped and manacled. On the swings, Arthur was fucking Samantha, both of them totally absorbed in each other. Hadn’t they been doing a waxing session a couple of hours ago? And here they were, going at it again. Apparently married life wasn’t so bad.
    A big man he didn’t know was setting up sound equipment on the wooden stage.
    He’d missed the morning demonstration on caning, which he wasn’t especially interested in, but maybe he’d watch the afternoon’s, when Bruce gave a how-to on kinbaku , the art of Japanese erotic rope bondage. Bruce definitely knew his ropes. For
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    simple restraint, Aidan preferred the practicality and ease of modern cloth and Velcro cuffs, but he was interested in learning about some of the fancier applications of rope.
    It was a nice evening, and the weather promised to be decent all weekend. He wondered how many couples were playing in the woods or at the pony track. He set out down the path into the woods. Constance wasn’t the only one who needed some processing time. The thought of how her smooth thighs felt under his fingers and the way her nipple tasted when he sucked on it made him hard again. Maybe he’d get over her faster if he went to his room and jerked off some of the tension. But instead he was going to enjoy the fresh mountain air and do his best to ignore his raging hard-on.
    He made a point of appreciating the reds, oranges, and yellows of the early fall foliage, mixed with the greens of leaves that hadn’t turned yet. He tried to savor the crunch of twigs underneath his feet, the freshness of the mountain air in his lungs.
    He’d wanted to get her panties off, to plunge his fingers into her soft wetness and make her come. It annoyed him he still had no idea what her face looked like in the moment of ecstasy or how tight her pussy squeezed in her climax. She’d been so close to asking. He’d thought she would. She obviously wanted to. But she was prouder than that. A sub like Brenda would have played coy, knowing all along she’d act out surrender in the end, but for Constance, admitting she wanted a more intimate touch wouldn’t have been acting or calculation. It would have been a real surrender.
    He snorted. So much for walking in the woods clearing his mind. It seemed to be stuck on a certain little pastry chef.
    He heard a low moan off to the side. There was a clearing there with a tree with smooth bark and a couple of branches that were perfect for tying arms to. A pretty young lady had showed him the spot the first time he’d come to Bondage Ranch. He’d been back