Long Slow Tease: Penance Part 16

The deep command in Wyatt's voice sent chills through her even as she wanted to be the one to order him on the wedge with his a.s.s in the air. The thought of being able to touch his perfect b.u.t.t, to spank it, to make him come with his rear end burning from her smacks sent a chill racing down her spine that settled in her dripping wet p.u.s.s.y. Embarra.s.sment heated her cheeks as she realized the position would expose her aroused state to Wyatt and she bit her lip as she carefully leaned over the wedge, the downward angle enough to send a rush of blood to her face but not extreme enough to make her pa.s.s out if she laid there for an extended period of time.

As she waited for him to move, to do something, anything, she wondered if he would spank her. The thought just seemed...wrong to her. Not because she didn't deserve it, h.e.l.l she deserved to be paddled until she couldn't walk and would embrace the pain, but because she worried that it would hurt Wyatt. No matter how much training he'd had, no matter what Petrov tried to teach him, Wyatt couldn't stand hurting a woman, and she feared what it would do to his soul to cause her pain like that.

The thought of Wyatt hurting himself on such a fundamental level was unacceptable to her. She pushed off the wedge and turned, looking up at him. "Wyatt, please, you don't have to do this."

To her surprise he gave her an amused look. "I don't have to do what, baby?"

"Spank me. I don't...if it hurts you, I don't want you to do it. Please."

Shaking his head, he turned her around and pushed her back into position by pressing his hand between her shoulder blades. "Mich.e.l.le, you need to trust me. Now shut the f.u.c.k up and take your punishment."

At the open menace in his tone her body tightened in fear. He didn't sound unsure, if anything he sounded...smug. What the h.e.l.l had Petrov done to her man that he would so easily spank her when before her betrayal he'd been disgusted by the thought of hurting her? Had she broken something in Wyatt that could never be fixed? Had she damaged him so much that his view of the world had shifted on a fundamental level? Shame filled her that she'd taken this gentle, yet incredibly strong man and made him capable of an action that at one time would have sickened him.

He ran his rough hand over the curve of her a.s.s, making a pleased sound. "I won't be spanking you, Mich.e.l.le, or caning you, or whipping you. What I have in mind is going to be much, much worse. By the time I'm done with you I promise you'll be begging me for mercy, but I want you to suffer for your lack of faith in me, in yourself, in what we have."

Thousands of different punishments ran through her mind, from electroplay to clothespins, leaving her off kilter as she tried to figure out what he was going to do.

To her shock Wyatt slipped his fingers between the soaked lips of her s.e.x, making a soft, rumbling sound of approval that had her bucking back against his hand.

"So little self-control. I see I'm going to have to strap you down."

Before she could take a breath he was pulling stretchy cloth bands with Velcro on either end over her torso, pinning her to the wedge. She gave an experimental wiggle and tried to hide her grimace at the fact that she couldn't move. Then he placed another strap over the backs of her thighs, securing it to the wedge as well so she was pinned. A little nibble of panic began to invade her thoughts and demand she unstrap herself, that she retake control of the situation, but she pushed it away. She was strong enough to endure this, and she trusted Wyatt enough to take care of her.

Still, when he moved out of her line of sight she squirmed, trying to see him.

A moment later he returned. "Close your eyes. Let's see if you have the self-control to not look, to trust me."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax, to submit, but it was so f.u.c.king hard. This wasn't her, this wasn't who she was or what she wanted. If it had been anyone but Wyatt asking her to do this she would have told them to go f.u.c.k themselves, but it was Wyatt and she would try for him a even if it killed her.

At the first caress of his fingers against her p.u.s.s.y she moaned and arched back as much as she could, starved for his touch. G.o.d, he knew how to caress her just right, how to pet her c.l.i.t with his thumb, how to ma.s.sage her outer l.a.b.i.a and draw more blood to that area, arousing her until she was panting.

He leaned over her body so his denim-clad crotch pushed against her bottom, the clear bulge of his erection driving her crazy. When his bare touched her back she shuddered, craving the skin to skin contact, wishing he was naked. Soft cloth brushed her face and when she inhaled she realized it was Wyatt's shirt. He moved it so it was next to her face and she drew in greedy inhalations of his scent. G.o.d, she never wanted him to move, would die if he didn't f.u.c.k her, would die if he did.

She'd never wanted anyone as much as she wanted Wyatt and she almost came when he began to grind his crotch against her p.u.s.s.y.

"Oh, sweetheart, you're so close, aren't you?"

Nodding in agreement, she tried to squirm against him, but he lifted away from her. The air seemed cold after his heat against her skin and she moaned in protest. He laughed, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, and returned to stroking her p.u.s.s.y with a light touch.

Something hard and cold pressed against her s.e.x and she moaned again, grateful for whatever it was he wanted to put inside of her. The object was wide, and when he began to press it into her s.e.x she shuddered, thrusting back as much as she could. Antic.i.p.ation sang through her blood, but once the object was around three inches into her s.e.x he stopped pushing and she tried to understand the strange sensations coming from the thing spreading her throbbing sheath open. It didn't feel like a d.i.l.d.o, instead she had the oddest sensation of cool air filling her.

Then Wyatt returned to stroking her c.l.i.t, working her up to the point of o.r.g.a.s.m, then backing off.

She let out a long, keening moan of despair as she realized what he was doing to her.

f.u.c.king o.r.g.a.s.m denial.

She hated, loathed, o.r.g.a.s.m denial, at least when it was being used on her.

Wyatt laughed and she growled at him.

"Put my shirt in your mouth and bite down on it. I don't want to hear one f.u.c.king word from you. This is your punishment and you'll take it until I'm satisfied."

Oh how she wished he'd just spank her, whip her, beat her and get it over with. This long, drawn out torture was so much worse. Her body ached, and her p.u.s.s.y throbbed like it was bruised from her intense arousal. The urge to scream at Wyatt, to demand he f.u.c.k her, to order him to make her come tore at her self-control and she shoved his shirt into her mouth, biting down and wishing it was his skin she was sinking her teeth into.

For hours...maybe even days he tormented her, taking her almost to her peak over and over again until she began to cry from the pain. He made a little hushing noise and removed his hand. She had no idea how much time had pa.s.sed but when something cold slid over her swollen s.e.x she screamed and bucked against his touch.

"No, Mich.e.l.le, no mercy. You'll take this pain, suffer for what you did to us, suffer for your lack of faith in me. Do you know what really f.u.c.king kills me? That you didn't think I was strong enough to give you everything you need. I promise you, baby, that by the time I'm done with you, you will never make that mistake again."

m.u.f.fled by his shirt, she screamed at him that she was sorry now, that she had no idea he could be such a ruthless b.a.s.t.a.r.d, that she f.u.c.king hurt with the need to o.r.g.a.s.m.

He removed the ice and somehow slid his finger inside of her, and she realized the device he'd put into her p.u.s.s.y was a chast.i.ty plug, a small, hollow circle that kept her s.e.x spread open but offered no relief.

"You are so d.a.m.n wet, so f.u.c.king hot. I'd love to sink my c.o.c.k into you, to f.u.c.k you like this, to make you scream as you climaxed. I bet this soaked little p.u.s.s.y would suck the c.u.m right out of me."

She frantically nodded, begged him to take her, to put her out of her misery.

His deep, s.a.d.i.s.tic chuckle had her wanting to pull her hair out with frustration. "You know what I'm doing right now, Mich.e.l.le? I'm opening my jeans and taking my c.o.c.k out. Seeing you like this, looking at your pretty c.u.n.t so swollen its red, makes me so f.u.c.king hard."

She fought her restraints, trying to see him, but he kept out of her line of sight, denying her the glimpse of his c.o.c.k that she needed almost as desperately as she needed him inside of her.

"Such a pretty a.s.s. It killed me to think of the bruises Petrov left there. I watched him cane a woman one night at the club, saw the damage he could do. Made me f.u.c.king sick to know you allowed him to hurt you like that." He gripped her a.s.s with both hands and slid his c.o.c.k between her b.u.t.t cheeks, making her arch and moan with despair. "I promised myself that when I had you at my mercy I'd make you suffer, make you hurt, make you pay for the sin of damaging such a beautiful body."

Tears fell from her eyes, mixing with the sweat now dripping off her body. Never, ever, had she been so aroused and it hurt, maybe even more than the caning. At least when she was taking her punishment from Petrov she had her own version of subs.p.a.ce to sink into, a fuzzing of her nerves that left her feeling almost removed from her body. With the o.r.g.a.s.m denial Wyatt was putting her through she didn't have that disconnect. Instead, she was almost hyperaware of her body, sensitized to the point where all she could do was endure.

The caress of his c.o.c.k against her a.s.s, the feeling of his b.a.l.l.s gently slapping against her throbbing s.e.x, the scent of his musk from his shirt surrounding her, all these things had her fighting the restraints, trying to move, straining to get off, but he was so f.u.c.king strong that he kept her held in place like a b.u.t.terfly with a pin through its body.

He gave a long, deep groan that was like shards of gla.s.s sc.r.a.ping her skin. "I'm going to come all over you, Mich.e.l.le, I'm going to mark you, spread my seed all over you."

Whimpering for him to do just that, she clawed at the carpet, trying to buck into him, dying for the feeling of his c.u.m. His harsh breaths tore through her, making her near insane with the need to climax. With a long, low groan he began to o.r.g.a.s.m and at the hot splash of his seed hitting her back she sobbed and begged, pleaded with him to give her release, to let her come, to end the torment.

Instead of touching her like she needed so d.a.m.n bad he moved off of her entirely and she cried out at the loss, his shirt now soaked with her spit, sweat, and tears. Her p.u.s.s.y felt as if it had been beaten with a paddle, so swollen she couldn't bear the chast.i.ty device in her, even the press of her thighs too much. She hurt, oh G.o.d she hurt and when Wyatt wiped down her back with what she a.s.sumed was a wet washcloth she could only shudder.

She had no idea how long he was gone, only that by the time he began to unbind her, the level of her arousal had receded enough so that when he helped her stand she didn't o.r.g.a.s.m when she pressed her thighs together. At some point, he'd put on a clean shirt, and when he pulled her to his chest and held her, she collapsed against him, crying and clinging to his warm, hard body. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bathroom before setting her down on the floor.

"I'm going to leave for a moment. Use the bathroom then knock on the wall when you're done."

She did as he asked, then slid down the wall when he came back into the room, her legs too weak to hold her. Staring up at him, she marveled that she'd ever thought him too gentle to hurt her, because this s.e.xual torture was worse than anything she'd ever had to endure. He was a f.u.c.king s.a.d.i.s.t. After turning on the shower he looked down at her with a mixture of love, frustration, and anger that only made her cry harder.

"Get in the shower and wash yourself. You are forbidden to o.r.g.a.s.m, do you understand me? If you do, I promise you that you will regret it and I will be very disappointed in you."

Miserable, she managed to push herself from the floor, the pressure against her aching s.e.x from just walking into the tub almost too much to bear. He closed the clear vinyl curtain between them and she looked away, unable to face his scrutiny while she quickly washed herself, the salt of her sweat and tears flavoring her lips as she raised her face to the warm spray. She didn't even dare touch her p.u.s.s.y, instead washing her inner thighs and avoiding the f.u.c.king chast.i.ty plug that tormented her. It was almost like being filled by a c.o.c.k, yet left achingly empty at the same time.

As soon as she was done he pulled the curtain open then turned off the water.

"Out you go."

His hands were gentle as he dried her and she swayed, so overwhelmed by emotion and the extended torture of o.r.g.a.s.m denial that she felt...fuzzy...buzzed. Almost like the feeling she got during a punishment beating but not as overwhelming. Instead she was bone deep tired and her emotions were so raw that she hovered on the edge of tears. Wyatt wrapped the towel around her, then cupped her face with his hands and stared into her eyes. She whimpered and swayed against him, the strength in his gaze overwhelming her. To her surprise, he leaned forward and placed a gentle, soft, exquisite kiss on her lips that destroyed her.

This was the first time he'd kissed her since Chicago and she trembled at the soft brush of his lips, yearning for more but not daring to try to take it any further.

"You did so good," he whispered against her lips. "I know this wasn't easy for you. I'm so proud of you."

Just when she thought she'd run out of tears, he proved her wrong, his words warming her from within until the pain of her body became secondary to the mental bliss of having pleased him. She'd never really understood a submissive's joy in pleasing their Dom, only that it was something beautiful to behold. Now, with Wyatt's words of praise still burning against her lips, she could finally connect with why a submissive would crave this feeling. It was like all the approval she'd ever wanted, all the recognition she'd ever craved, and all the love she'd ever needed had been given to her with those words.

Unable to resist she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back, trying to put her love for him into her kiss. He sighed against her mouth and when his tongue traced along the seam of her lips she eagerly opened for him, moaning in delight as the taste of him filled her while he leisurely stroked her tongue with his own. She'd forgotten how good he kissed, how well he knew her so that he seemed to antic.i.p.ate what she needed before she was even aware of it. The burn in her s.e.x started to ramp up again and she squirmed against him, all but dry humping him in mindless need for her relief.

He broke their kiss and took a step back, his chest heaving. When she reached for him he caught her hands and held her back. "Come on, time for bed."

She wanted to throw him to the ground and tie him up, to rip the f.u.c.king chast.i.ty plug out of herself and sink down on his c.o.c.k, but before she could, he swept up into her arms and carried her through the now-dark living room up to the loft. As he took the stairs she nuzzled her lips against his t-shirt, nibbling at the b.u.mp of his nipple ring. The memory of seeing his piercings for the first time and the fierce pride she felt at knowing he'd gotten them for her, swept through her and she struggled to process her dueling feelings of dominance and submission.

On the rare occasions she'd let Owen top her, she'd still been a Mistress choosing to submit, but tonight with Wyatt, she'd come as close as she could to actually giving up control to another person. It had taken an enormous amount of trust on her part to give in to Wyatt's demands, to give him such power over her, and a small part of her mind was still unable to grasp the concept that he hadn't hurt her. Well, he'd hurt her, but he'd never abused her.

She gave a ragged laugh at that thought and Wyatt paused on his way towards the bed to look down at her. "You okay?"

Wetting her lips, she cleared her throat then said, "Thank you."

The tense lines around his mouth softened and to her surprise he didn't set her on the pad on the floor, but instead on the bed. "You've earned the right to sleep next to me, but I expect you to be a good girl and not molest me in my sleep."

The softness of the mattress, the scent of him on the pillows, and the silken caress of the sheets over her skin were sensory overload to her stressed out mind and body. She watched with drowsy interest as Wyatt took off his jeans, leaving his boxers and t-shirt on as he slid into bed next to her. While she'd hoped he would sleep nude with her, she really didn't think she could resist the temptation of touching him if he had.

"Spread your legs."

He lifted the sheet and slowly caressed his way down her stomach, pausing to run his fingers through the damp curls between her legs before gently removing the plug. She couldn't help the shudder of pleasure and pain as her body clenched down, missing the feeling of being stretched at the same time as relief at the cessation of the constant pressure filled her. He leaned over her to set the plug on the side table and to her shock bent to press one gentle, slow, achingly exquisite lick against her p.u.s.s.y.

Without thinking she plunged her hands into his hair and tried to force his mouth to her once again aching s.e.x, but he grasped her wrists and removed her hands from his head.

"Please, Wyatt, please!"

"Shhhh." He gathered her into his arms and began to stroke her hip. "Easy, sweetheart. Breathe through it. You can do it, and I promise you that I'll take care of you."

"Now?" she whispered in a hopeful voice.

The vibrations of his laughter moved through her body and seemed to settle into her p.u.s.s.y, which was once again soaking wet. "Not now. It all depends on you, on how long it takes you to earn my forgiveness. I told you this wasn't going to be easy, Mich.e.l.le, and I meant it."

"Wyatt, I'm so sorry."

He gently placed his hand over her mouth. "We're not at that stage yet, got me? I don't want to hear any apologies from you yet. Talk is cheap, baby. If you really want to prove how sorry you are I expect you to do what I tell you, when I tell you."

She placed a kiss on his palm then turned in his arms so he was spooning her. "Can I say I missed you?"

"You don't need to say it. I can feel it every time you touch me, every time you look at me, but no matter how much you missed me, I missed you twice as much." He began to gently rub her belly, an oddly soothing touch that relaxed her further. "Now hush, you're going to need your rest for what I have planned for you tomorrow."

Drowsy enough that her words came out slightly slurred, she said, "Running?"

"Yep, among other things."

She groaned and sank into his embrace, his laughter the last thing she heard before sleep claimed her.

Chapter 14.

While Wyatt loved the hungry looks Mich.e.l.le kept giving him as they ran, he didn't like the accompanying hard-on. Running with a stiff d.i.c.k just wasn't fun, no matter how tight his underwear was. The warm sun beat down on his sweat soaked t-shirt and he longed to take it off, but he wasn't ready to show Mich.e.l.le his surprise yet, and she certainly wasn't ready to see it, not with her jealousy issues.

It chapped his a.s.s that she constantly questioned if he'd been with other women while they were apart, but he tried to see it from her point of view. It must have done a number on her to not only have to deal with her own cheating issues with Owen, but to find out that her father had an affair around the same time. Petrov had filled in a lot of the blanks about Mich.e.l.le's past for Wyatt, and he was more determined than ever to make Mich.e.l.le understand that she was special, that she was worthy of his love. h.e.l.l, if anyone was unworthy here it was Wyatt, but he was trying like a motherf.u.c.ker to get his s.h.i.t in gear.

For the last two weeks, he'd been working to get this place ready for Mich.e.l.le and set up a life for her down here away from all the bulls.h.i.t. While he'd had to move his schedule up due to her breakdown, he managed to get everything in place. Now, he just needed to get Mich.e.l.le to embrace the opportunities he was going to offer her because he knew without a doubt they would make her stronger from the inside out. She needed to feel needed, and he was going to help her realize just how much she had to offer the world a not because of her beauty, or her connections, or her money, but because of her mind and her generous spirit.

Right now, his Mistress was lying flat on her back on the sun-bleached wood of the boardwalk that led to the house, her arms flung out on either side. Every once in a while she'd mutter something about killing him, or slicing his tendons, or flogging him so he figured if she was okay enough to b.i.t.c.h he didn't have to worry about her having a heart attack anytime soon. He'd pushed her harder today, made her run farther then had her doing mountain climbers in the surf. Now he got to reward her for her hard work and he couldn't wait.

"Come on, Sapphire, get your a.s.s up. You need to wash up then it's time for some grub. If you can make it up the stairs on your own I'll make cinnamon rolls for you. From scratch."

He couldn't help his laughter when she raised her hands and gave him the double bird. Taking pity on her, he helped her stand and gave her sweaty forehead a kiss. "It's not a good idea to flip off your Dom."

She snorted, but walked on unsteady legs to the outdoor shower.

"No, you get to take a shower inside today."

The look she gave him before she grunted and began to slowly climb the stairs had him laughing again. Her glare was one hundred percent p.i.s.sed off Mistress, and it did his heart good to see that fire beginning to burn in her again. Once she was inside he took a quick shower in the frosty cold water after making sure the beach around them was deserted. Last thing a man wanted was a stranger getting an eyeful when he was experiencing shrinkage from the icy water.

By the time he'd made it upstairs, dressed, and finished making breakfast, Mich.e.l.le finally came out of the shower. She was nude with her wet hair piled on top of her head and held in place with a clip. When he saw that she'd shaved her s.e.x bare he almost dropped the plate of cinnamon rolls he was holding. She giggled and proceeded to do that s.e.xy f.u.c.king slink of hers as she closed the distance between them. f.u.c.k, without the curls guarding her mound he could see the smooth lips of her s.e.x, and he wanted to lick her with a desperation that bordered on madness.

She took the plate from him and set it on the counter, then wound her arms around his neck and looked up at him expectantly.

His voice came out rough as he said, "You want a kiss, don't you?"

She smiled, all sin and seduction, then nodded.

"You are nothing but trouble."

When she had the gall to give him an innocent look, he grinned. "Bet I know where you want me to kiss you."

He leaned down and rubbed his lips along the smooth column of her throat, enjoying the faint scent of the vanilla soap he'd bought for her. She made a soft mewling sound and pressed her body against his. Without a doubt, the o.r.g.a.s.m denial the previous night had left her needy, but he didn't plan on giving her relief quite yet. Besides, she was trying to bend him to her will by tempting him with her now-bare s.e.x, and if he gave in to her she would continue to try to manipulate him.

Time to show his Mistress that he was still the boss. Even though he wanted to give in and give her what she wanted, it was more important now to give her what she needed.

She was going to f.u.c.king kill him.

He moved the plate over then picked her up and set her on the counter, her little gasp of surprise stroking over him like a caress.

"Hmmm, nope. This isn't where you want me to kiss you. How about here?"