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laid down the brush, chose another, this one with stiffer bristles. “I’ll bet those jeans are getting very uncomfortable.”
    “Shall I take them off?”
    “Not yet. I like to see your cock straining against them for me. I’m not ready to let you be comfortable.”
    She loved the feel of his skin beneath her palms, his heated stillness. When she caressed his nape with her long nails, he bent his head forward, making it easier for her to stroke him there.
    A breath drew in his muscles, his buttocks tightening in a very appealing manner as she returned to her brushing, increasing the pressure of her strokes with the stiffer brush, raking his skin, bringing the blood to the surface to sensitize him further. She alternated across, varied from light to hard, so his skin would not get numb to the stimulation. His breathing grew labored. Though she wanted to do so, she didn’t have to look to know his arousal was increasing.
    “You seem to be getting a bit fractious,” she murmured. “Follow me.” Putting down the brush on a ledge of the stall partition, she lifted two tethers of soft nylon from where they draped over the doors. Turning so she could see him come toward her, she suppressed a shudder of reaction at the sight of that muscled body, lightly perspiring with nerves and heat, the silver eyes, intent with desire. The awkwardness of his gait drew her attention down to his cock, now clearly outlined against the front panel of his jeans.
    23

    Joey W. Hill
    “If you could do anything you wanted to do right now, Mackenzie, what would it be?”
    The path of his eyes coursed down the front of the velvet dress, but he took another step closer, so close she felt his hand at his side brush her hip. Felt his fingertips take the liberty of caressing the lace top of her thigh high, seeking to trace the bare skin just above it, below her dress’s short hem.
    “I’d kneel at your feet and eat your pussy until you came in my mouth, your hands clutched in my hair, nails digging into my skin. I’d listen to you scream my name.
    Mistress.”
    His fingers inched higher, his eyes gauging the rise in her pulse rate, which she felt beating against her throat as clearly as she knew he could see it.
    “You need to learn some manners.” She caught his wrist in a firm grip.
    The tether was similar to the nylon ropes found in a horse barn, only this one had a cuff at the end of it. She fitted it around his wrist. “Turn outward so your back is facing the back of the stall, and put both arms behind you, crossing your forearms.” His fingers flexed as she laced the cuffs on his wrists securely, making sure he had blood flow, but tight enough he could feel the restraint, send the message to his mind that it was the first step toward the total domination she intended to exercise over him tonight. As she did the lacing and checked the pressure, her knuckles were brushing the ass hugged by the denim. It was too tempting. She allowed herself to free one hand, close it over the curve of one buttock, grip it hard, enjoy the feel of it flexing tensely under her touch. The fingers of his cuffed hand reached, found her other hand wrapped in the loose end of the tether, and he caressed her palm, seeking a grip.
    She drew out of his reach, wrapped the slack of the ropes around her fingers and tugged him further into the stall. He turned his head, meeting her gaze as she moved him, her palm sliding around to press against his stomach just above his waistband to guide him backwards. There was no escaping the mental comparison of leading a stallion within proximity of a mare, his eyes dangerous and intent on hers.
    Steady, girl. He’s big and strong, and he knows what he’s doing, but you can handle him.
    You know what he needs, even before he does. That’s what a good Mistress did. Break him down to the core, so he was open to her, both finding ultimate completion in a total connection of the mind with the body.
    Tyler’s words, but her