With one arm he gripped her wrist and pulled it out of his pants, pulling off his belt and tossing it aside. She gripped his buttons and pulled. “Y...ur jeans,” She gasped. “What about them?” he mumbled at her neck, his mouth and tongue making love to her skin, his fingers tangled in her hair. “I want them off.” “Only if the lace comes off.” His hand slid to her hip, his fingers just toying with the skin just underneath the edge of the miniscule garment. She slid her fingers underneath the. My men cringed as he shrieked loud enough that we could hear it, even through his gag. I stood dispassionately in front of his face until he quit howling enough to hear me.“Are you ready to tell me everything yet?” I asked. He thought for a moment too long, so I took a firebrand from our tiny cooking fire and approached, singeing the hair on his chest. When he stopped screaming, I asked again. “The next time, the flames go lower. Are you ready to talk yet?” He nodded violently. I gave a second. More

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