Penance (Long Slow Tease, #2) (22 page)

Looking away, she went and used the bathroom, returning a few moments later and standing uncertainly on the other side of the breakfast island.

“Sit down. We’re going to eat then we’re going for a run.”

He could almost hear her groan of despair as she sat at the table, then raised her leg to begin stretching out her feet and ankles. The sight of her distracted him, so he turned back to the food, quickly finishing it up and serving her a heaping plate of scrambled eggs
and a big glass of orange juice along with buttered toast. As they ate, she kept sneaking shy peeks at him and he had a bitch of a time keeping his hands to himself. He wanted to stroke her, to touch her, to bury his face against her neck and inhale her unique scent. He’d missed her so fucking much and now she was here, but he couldn’t touch her without jeopardizing everything.

As soon as she was finished he stood and grabbed her plate before setting it in the sink. “After we get back from our run I want you to shower, then you’ll do the dishes, nude. You aren’t allowed to wear clothes when we are inside, and it
’s my prerogative if you wear them when we’re on the beach.”

A pretty blush heated her cheeks and
fire flashed through her eyes before she gave him a stiff nod. Yuki had keyed him into the fact that Michelle hated doing housework, so he planned to use that to his advantage. One way or another he’d get her to lose control and speak without permission, and once she did he would have a chance to show her just how tough he could be when she needed it. And he’d be lying if the thought of what he wanted to do to her wasn’t making blood rush to his cock. Fuck, he’d been seven weeks without sex, yet surrounded by sex at the same time and his libido was making him feel like a teenage boy on Viagra.

But good things c
ame to those who waited, and he was going to have fun making his Mistress spitting mad.

An hour later, he was running behind Michelle, dogging her every step of the way back to the beach house. He knew that at this point it was only her stubborn nature keeping her going, but she looked ready to pass out. If she hadn’t been swearing at him under her breath with every step she took he’d be more worried about her, but if she was well enough to curse him, she was well enough to keep running. They were currently jogging through the packed sand where the ocean met the seashore and he took a deep breath, loving the smell of the Gulf.

T
he sun beat down on them and he was glad they were almost back because while he wanted Michelle to suffer, he didn’t want her sunburned.

She was slowing down, her feet dragging, so he decided to up the pace just to be a bastard.

“Move your fucking ass, Sapphire. I want to see nothing but ankles and elbows. Jesus, when did you turn into such a fucking weak little girl?”

That got her to the wooden boardwalk that led through the grassy dunes to the house, but when she tried to climb the first step she stumbled and landed on her ass on the sand. Instead of getting up she fell back, her chest heaving and the sand sticking to her sweaty skin. He examined her carefully, giving her a moment to gather her breath, before lighting into her again. While he couldn’t can
e her like Petrov had, he could make her suffer in ways that would make her stronger. In a weird way he was putting Michelle through his own version of boot camp, and just like every recruit who’d ever been chewed out by a drill instructor, Michelle was probably hating his guts right now.

“What the fuck, Sapphire? Are you just going to lay there like a piece of dog shit waiting to dry up in the sun? Pathetic.”

She opened her eyes enough to glare at him, and it made him happy to see that the cringing, defeated look no longer marred her gaze, at least for the moment. He waited for her to speak, but even though her mouth opened and closed, and her lips formed words, she didn’t say anything. Wyatt had to give her credit, she’d managed to keep her temper longer than he thought she would, but that was okay, he had all the time in the world to give Michelle all the tough love she needed to forgive herself.

“If you’re too much of a fucking pansy to run
, then you’ll do some mountain climbers for me.”

Oh,
yeah, that pissed her off.

She
sat up, glaring at him, sand coating her now and her sweat-soaked shirt clinging to her body. With obvious effort she rolled over to her front and began to do mountain climbers, her legs and arms shaking. After a dozen she collapsed again, her lungs heaving.

He got right down on the ground with her, putting his face next to hers as he yelled at her.

“Get the fuck up and climb, lieutenant! Ass in the air, let’s go! Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up!”

She tried, but her arms refused to hold her and she face planted. When she looked up and he saw how her face was coated with sand like one of those facial masks women liked to use he couldn’t help laughing. As soon as he did her temper snapped and she threw a handful of sand at him.

With her lips pulled back in a snarl she screamed, “Fuck you!”

As soon as the words left her mouth she got wide eyed
and slapped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late.

He had her now.

He stood, grabbed her around the waist and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, easily bearing her weight as he jogged down the boardwalk with Michelle bouncing on his shoulder. One of the things he’d done during his training with Petrov was get back into working out like he used to in the Marines and his body was in prime shape. Michelle, on the other hand, was about as weak as a day old kitten and he planned on using that to his advantage.

When he reached the outdoor shower beneath the house, he carefully slid her off his shoulder. The shower was little more than a shower head, a small shelf with soap and some smooth stones to stand on, and a handle that would open the cold water tap. “Strip.”

It took her longer than usual because of her shaking limbs, but once she was naked he thrust her beneath the shower, grinning to himself as she shrieked at the cool water.

“I’m going upstairs to shower. I expect to see you up there as soon as you’re done.”

He quickly raced up the steps and into the house, grabbing a change of clothes before he took his own shower. After throwing on a pair of loose tan shorts and a t-shirt from his favorite bar in Austin, he went back out into the kitchen area and found a nude Michelle kneeling next to the front door. She’d knotted her wet hair atop her head and was in a lovely submissive kneeling position, her thighs slightly spread so he could see the ball-tightening sight of her pink sex and golden curls. Evidently she’d stopped shaving her pussy while they’d been apart and he mentally added a spa visit for her to his list of things to do.

Walking slowly, giving himself time to appreciate the view of her fragile body, he stopped close enough that he could feel her breath against his hand. She closed her eyes and tension filled her, making her tremble slightly. He would have given his left nut to know what she was thinking right now, but they weren’t at the point where he could trust anything she said yet.

Still, she’d done what he’d asked of her this morning so now, finally, he could reward her with a small bit of affection.

Cupping her face with his hand, he tilted her chin up so he could look into her beautiful blue eyes. When their gaze
s met some of that sorrow and self-hatred he’d seen in her earlier had returned. He would have liked to have been able to lean down and kiss her, to tell her he was proud of her, but that darkness in her gaze stopped him. With a mental sigh he went about stoking her inner fire again.

“Next time I run you
, I expect you to give it some effort.”

Not smiling at the way s
he bared her teeth at him was a heroic struggle, so he turned away from her and snapped his fingers. “Crawl next to me.”

Pretending he didn’t hear her growl was even harder, but by the time they’d made it to the living room he’d managed to school his expression again.

He grabbed a large pale blue throw pillow from the couch and tossed it on the floor. “Kneel and open your mouth.”

The sound of her moving behind him assured him she as doing as he asked. Ignoring her, he pulled out the big duffle bag full of BDSM toys he’d stashed behind the sofa and set it on the chair next to Michelle. She watched him with wide eyes but he noticed her mouth wasn’t open.

“I said open your mouth.”

Blinking at him in confusion she opened her mouth wide.

“Hands behind your back. Lace your fingers together.”

Fuck she made such a pretty picture like this, her breasts thrust forward, the sun glinting off her golden hair, her pretty pink lips parted for him. But what made his balls tighten and his dick swell was the edge of dominance seeping back into her posture, her gaze. That intangible power that made her a Mistress battling to break free under the strain of maintaining such a submissive posture. He wanted to tease that strength to the surface, to remind Michelle of who she was, of who she wanted to be, and he’d be lying if he didn’t say what he was about to do to his beautiful woman wasn’t turning him on.

Digging through the bag, he found the toy he wanted to play with and turned to Michelle, displaying it to her and grinning when horror filled her expression as soon as she realized what it was.

At the sight of the mouth guard in Wyatt’s hand it took every bit of willpower Michelle had to keep her mouth open. She fucking hated mouth guards, hated how they were designed to keep her mouth wide open and unable to close. It was such an undignified piece of equipment, something that would have her drooling all over herself.

When she looked up at Wyatt she found him smirking at her
she wondered for a moment how he knew she would hate wearing one of those things, but then remembered that he’d trained with Petrov. For the first time she felt a frisson of true fear at the thought of all the things Wyatt now knew about her. Petrov had been a merciless trainer, exposing her to pretty much everything the BDSM world had to offer, and she was pretty sure he’d told Wyatt all of her secrets.

Wyatt watched her carefully, as if waiting for her to refuse, expecting her to refuse. Pride stiffened her spine and even though she knew it was stupid, she didn’t want Wyatt to think she was too weak to handle wearing that
stupid thing. His constant barrage of comments while he ran her had somehow reawakened the competitive side of her nature, the part of her that wanted to be the best, to be the leader, to be on top, to be the Mistress. But at the same time whenever she looked at him she remembered his face, his pain when she’d seen him last in the hotel room and the need to seek his forgiveness overwhelmed her.

So even though it took everything she had to stay still, she obediently
stayed still as Wyatt put the curved metal prongs of the mouth guard between her lips and fastened it around the back of her head. The guard kept her mouth wide open and even though she knew she couldn’t, she tried to close her lips. Already she could feel the spit pooling in her mouth and she atempted to swallow it without much success.

With a soft groan Wyatt took a step back and her gaze went to his cock, now hard and tenting out the fabric of his shorts. Arousal flooded through her, a feeling she hadn’t experienced since Wyatt had left her. She’d forgotten how good it felt to be turned on and even as she inwardly cringed at how undignified she looked right now, she couldn’t help the needy clench of her sex. She wanted him, wanted to taste him, wanted to drink down his come and bring him pleasure. Wanted to do anything and everything he wanted if he would just forgive her.

“Fuck, Michelle,” he said in a rough voice. “You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

When she looked up at him she saw a momentary flash of heat, of need in his eyes before he once again returned to that cold, emotionless expression that irritated the hell out of her. She wanted to see his emotions, wanted to own them and rip down every barrier he tried to put up between them, but she no longer had that right.
Then Wyatt pulled his shorts down just enough to free his cock and everything but the need to have him inside of her anyway she could get it vanished.

He roughly gripped the back of her head with one hand and his dick with the other. As he slowly ran the tip of his
shaft over her spread lips, wetting them with his pre-cum, she couldn’t help her needy moan.

“If you’re a good girl I’ll come inside your mouth. If you’re a bad girl and you move I’ll jerk off into my hand. Understood?”

She nodded and clenched her fingers together, willing herself to not move, to not grab his hips and force him to give her his cock. Slowly, ever so slowly he slid the bloated crest of his dick into her mouth and she moaned in protest when she couldn’t close her lips and form a proper seal around him. Instead she tried to rub the thick ridge on the underside of his erection with her tongue, the need to bring him pleasure, to make up for the pain she’d caused him driving her to an almost frantic state to make him come.

Wyatt’s hold on her hair gentled, but he began to slide in and out of her mouth, each thrust taking him deeper into her throat until she was gagging.

“Open up for me, Michelle,” he said with a soft groan. “I’m going to fuck your throat.”